#He's still just a lost little soul with too much Determination and the ability to use it to his own ends - and he's bored. And he's Tired

[sysig]

It’s hard to put on a bright face, in spite of everything (Patreon)

#Doodles #Flowey #UT #Underfell #Just regular Underfell this time! His interactions with Fellplates!Gaster are fun but it was also a great springboard of thinking of Just He #I've never really considered Underfell!Flowey - I love that he's duplicitous and tragic and terrible <3 So a happy Flowey was just kinda #Fine I guess? Kinda missing his depth tho isn't he? #That's what I thought initially anyway hehe ♪ I think he could definitely hold some lies in his belly still ♫ #I think no matter what version you end up with - no matter what stimuli you introduce to him - you're going to end up with Flowey™ #He's still just a lost little soul with too much Determination and the ability to use it to his own ends - and he's bored. And he's Tired #Especially of getting killed all the time - that whole Kill or Be Killed thing got old Fast - faster than it did in Undertale anyhow #He's still just a fearful little dust-coward in there <3 And when he loses his ability to come back? Oh I think that'd scare him silly #I don't believe for a second that he'd be any more merciful to the player if he didn't think he'd get something from it #Protection - new things to see or feel - maybe he'd even have something of a capacity to be appreciative that'd be nice #And I do think he'd be genuinely helpful! But I think it'd have a Lot of the same undercurrents as what happens to him in the Genocide run #Depends a lot on the player as well - maybe the kinder you are to other monsters the better he'd behave #But would it be out of fear or cockiness of still surviving haha ♪ I just love when he's the worst! He's my favourite when he's the worst! #I think the big question would be Omega Flowey - I mean. Even someone kind-hearted like Asriel became what he did #And Asgore was willing to give himself up to become a True Monster as well - I just :| I don't think he'd fare well lol #Maybe the rules are different in Underfell I dunno but if the rules are the same- #But then again ♪ I also like it when he has the opportunity to be terrible and then doesn't. For whatever reason - selfish - selfless #He's just my favourite :) And it's fun to imagine him acting differently from the same source/different reasons hehe

[hhnguyen]

aren’t you just precious

Everything medical related was a google search, so those in the medical field please don’t come for me - I was a literature major for a reason 😭

♢ Pairing: Parents!Jake & Neytiri x Oldest daughter!Reader

♢ Word count: 2k 

♢ Genre: suspense, action, angst, slight humor - Warnings: explicit description of injuries, blood, cursing, reader is a lil crazy

⌲ Description: Your iknimaya goes a little south. Aka introducing the ‘demon ikran.’

M A S T E R L I S T

Jake Sully, a marine veteran at the age of twenty-two had gone through absolute hell on earth before ever setting his disabled ass on Pandora. 

He thought he had seen the worse - comrades shot down right in front of his eyes, the blood covering their skin, blank dead eyes staring into his soul. Sometimes there were those who were actually blown to bits by bombs and grenades, screaming not even five feet away from him as they clutched their missing limbs, begging a nonexistent God for mercy.

Then there was his own injury. The pain he hardly remembered, because he had gotten to the point of delusion when they finally managed to drag him out of the war zone, half dead, and to the VA hospital.  

The incoherent words he had heard after waking up from his surgery despite his hazy vision and buzzing hearing at that time, yet the truth coming out of the doctor’s mouth had still hit him in the face like the largest ‘fuck you and your life’ to exist. 

“...ave severe spinal injury...fixable...expensive, marine.”

A severe spinal injury that was fixable but too expensive for a marine like him to afford. 

For an active man as he had been in the past, the thought of being paralyzed from the waist had been his worst nightmare to the point of being ready to waste away his life. 

Though even after all that shit, Jake Sully felt like he wanted to throw up as he stared at his oldest baby girl at the fresh age of fourteen laying there in front of him; delirious as he had once been in the same position, bleeding and bruised. 

He could only thank Eywa that your heart was still beating and your body intact. 

Well, mostly. 

The almost nauseous angle of your left wrist certainly did not look natural. And their bones were fortified, stronger than anything else to human knowledge. Yet it had managed to snap as easily as that. 

Neytiri - his beautiful, poor mate. She was distraught, one would say more so than him. Sitting only inches away from your fevering form in one of Hell’s Gate treating rooms for avatars, muttering prayers with dried tears upon her face. 

Your injuries had been so severe that not even the abilities of your grandmother, the Tsahik, could heal you solely through the spiritual power of Eywa. These kinds of injuries needed the advanced surgery of human technology. 

His other children were barred from coming inside, having been firmly ordered to remain in their village as he and Neytiri made sure that you would be okay. None of them wanted to keep them away, but neither did they want them to be traumatized by seeing your bloodied and broken form. 

A stark contrast from the smiling and proud sister that they knew. 

And yet, you had still managed to complete your iknimaya. 

Jake watched with a bated breath from the air upon Bob, his own faithful ikran through the years, as he saw the slight encouraging push Neytiri had given you on the edge of the nesting place. Your, oh so small form, looked firm and stubborn as you steadily stalked forward in a crouched form, the band for the beak held in your grasp with determination. 

He watched as one ikran flew away. Then another. And another. A third one. Fourth. Fifth. Sixth. 

He had lost count after the eleventh. 

You were getting frustrated, he could see that. Neytiri was still there, calling out for you to calm down. To be patient as he moved Bob a little bit closer, but not too much to distract you if you were to see him hovering. 

And there he was. 

Jake had seen it before you did. The vicious screech even reached him high up in the clouds and echoed above all the other ikrans. 

He felt his blood run cold as the midnight blue beast, nearly black in color with its yellow and green detailing jumped down from the highest point of the rocks and landed behind you as you whirled around with snarl of your own. 

But then as fleeting as it had been, you had grinned, taking in the magnificent animal despite its bloodthirsty aggressiveness. 

“Aren’t you just precious?” Neytiri had told him of your words in the aftermath. 

His mate hollered in encouragement, and he could hardly stop the prideful tug of his own lips. 

Rather than you leaping on the beast, Jake straightened up as he saw the ikran run at you as well. Both were only inches away from crashing, as you last minute decided to slide beneath its belly - slight enough to fit as you rolled away on the other side and then slung the catcher around its mouth swiftly before throwing yourself on its back. 

His expectations had been hopeful from that moment. Positive. But wrong, oh so wrong. 

Rather than trying to snap at you by turning, he watched in horror as the ikran seemed to have a human mind as it slammed against a stone wall, you hitting it first. 

Neytiri had screamed, already half leaping forward but stopping herself as she saw you still clinging to the beast. 

Both had thought that had been the worst of it until the ikran tried it again. This time deliberately falling backward to land on its back with a rumble, where you were hung on. 

“LET GO MA ‘ITE! LET GO!” Neytiri was yelling. Or begging. He couldn’t be sure in his own fear. 

But both of them underestimate you, as a growl mixed with what Jake had assumed to be a painful yell from yourself erupted. Legs manage to wrap around the animal’s neck despite being crushed underneath its weight. 

He saw belatedly you were only holding on to the banshee catcher with one hand as you pulled at its head hard enough to make the animal let out another vicious muted screech. 

And then you truly proved you were his daughter. 

“C’MON YOU MOTHERFUCKER. GRANDPA BOB WAS BETTER THAN THIS!”

The ikran had gotten angrier, trashing before suddenly rolling like a fucking bowling pin on the stone-covered ground. 

Towards the edge of the cliff. 

Neytiri ran, and Jake dove, both reaching out and screaming your name as you and the ikran fell off the edge. 

As his mate leaned almost desperately over the edge, Jake forced himself to draw Bob back up, only for a few seconds - not to interfere with the rite. But it was in those few seconds he felt like his heart had stopped beating. 

There was that familiar screech again. 

Then you were soaring. 

Up in a straight line, past Neytiri and him. Tsaheylu clearly made as the ikran listened to your orders. 

There was a blinding grin on your face as you soared, clearly looking for him and letting out a whoop. 

The moment your eyes caught his, Jake felt his grin slip. 

Your eyes, open just moments before suddenly rolled back. Your whole body went slack as you fell over the side, your newly bonded ikran screeching at the sudden weightless feeling as the bond broke and your body went straight down. 

Jake hadn’t heard his desperate yell, this time diving down without stopping. 

He thought you were dead when he managed to catch you and flew back up, only to have Neytiri meet him in the air on her own mount, an expression so clearly in distress. Without a word, they both made haste back to the village, your newly bonded ikran following closely behind. 

“How is she?” His voice sounded like it had gone over fifty years of smoking with no water. It felt like his whole body was weighed down with stones. 

“She’s alive,” that’s all that Max could offer with a grim expression. “She will need surgery. The momentum of her slamming repeatedly against stones with the ikran’s weight on top has managed to collapse a lung.”

Jake had never wanted to sob like a newborn baby until now. But he needed to remain calm, or at least sane. For Neytiri’s sake, and your siblings.

“Usually surgeries like these lead to long-term conditions in life, but we’re certain that with the Na’vi biology she will heal just fine without complications. But it’s the healing that will take time.”

He was nodding along, but it felt like he was far away. Only hearing a slight inconsistent sound in his ears as he watched through the see-through glass into the room where you were all connected up to tubes and an oxygen mask. 

It was so human, the whole situation of you being in a hospital bed for avatars - Jake wanted to laugh. Not in humor, but maybe in slight delusion at the situation. 

“Okay, okay…” he swallowed. “Anything else?”

His human friend was taking pity on him, Jake knew. 

Max has been there since the beginning. Seeing Jake growing his own family and now being placed in this position. “Besides the broken wrist and strained ankle, it’s mostly cuts and bruises. So she will have to wear a brace as well as remain seated for the next week or so. And check-ups every three days.“

“Yeah, we can do that,” Jake croaked. “When’s the surgery?”

“As soon as possible.”

Another nod. “Thanks, man.”

“Of course.”

He had to nearly pry Netytiri away from you as she snarled protectively. But he had to explain that she couldn’t join in on the surgery due to contamination concerns. The whole room had to be fixed to match that of a Na’vi body, the surgeons wearing oxygen masks as the space was filled with Pandora’s toxic air for your sake. 

It was an open lung surgery, Jake had been told. A risky procedure even on earth. It had taken four hours. Four hours full of anxiety and fear. 

But you had pulled through, Max said, Norm closely behind with a relieved teary smile himself. The man was like another uncle to the kids despite his avatar form. He had watched their ceremonies, rites and connections to Eywa. So to Norm, this was just like a family member to him. 

You had slept for a full day and a half after the surgery, still confined to the avatar hospital room before your eyes had fluttered open with difficulty. A cough erupted followed by your painful whine at the action.

Netytiri had hushed you gently, crouching down and stroking your hair back. Fresh tears fell at seeing you conscious again after so long, sobs breaking out as you flashed a sleepy smile at her. 

Neytiri had felt like Eywa had pulled the entirety of Pandora away from underneath her feet during the hours of your examination and surgery. Clutching Jake to her and never wanting to let go as her oldest baby was at the mercy of nature and your own will to live through. 

But she knew. 

You were strong. You always had been. And you had fought. 

Neytiri had never imagined a day when one of her biggest nightmares nearly came to pass. 

To lose one of her children. 

She would rather throw herself off the highest point on Ayram alusìng than lose one of her precious babies before their time. She believed in Eywa with her whole heart and soul and knew their beings were only borrowed and one day had to be returned. 

But Eywa would not take her children away from her until Neytiri herself agreed. 

Until that time, she would do anything to protect them. But to have it happen during one of their most treasured rites in life had prevented her from doing many things. 

Interfering for once. Because you had said so before as if knowing how horribly wrong it could go. 

“Do not stop me, mama. I can do this on my own.”

Of course, you could. And you did. 

Despite having to brush the doors to Eywa’s home yourself to succeed. 

And as your parents carefully helped you back home to the village after five days of observation at Hell’s Gate after your surgery, you couldn’t help but snicker despite the stabs of pain.  

Your mom had admonished you gently to not aggravate your wounds. Whereas your dad held back the roll of his eyes with amusement tickling the sides of his mouth. 

“Why are you laughing, flower?”

Your grin was shit-eating as you looked up at him.

“My iknimaya was so much cooler than Toruk Makto’s.”

“You little skxawng.”

I feel like I lowkey pulled this one out of my ass, but oh well. 

taglist: @nao-cchi @eywas-heir @ssc7514 @spicycloudsalad @calums-betch @httpjiikook @ricecakeslove @fanboyluvr @iwaslikeblah   @the-wandering-pan-ace @avatarloversblog @eternallyvenus @enchantinggoateefox @arianapntn @heydemonsitsme @slyvixen1029​ @promiseofeywa @love13tter @directioner5life @bambisposts-blogs​ @melllinaa​  @sugarmummystuff6​ @lovekeeho​ @hai-kbai​

#avatar #avatar imagine #avatar the way of water #sully family #sully family x reader #jake sully x reader #dad jake sully #jake sully imagine #jake sully x daughter #mom neytiri #neytiri x you #neytiri x daughter!reader #sully reader #sully daughter

[ego-meliorem-esse]

Questions He Can't Answer

1880s, London

In the serene atmosphere of Arthur's private library, Matthew found solace among the rows of rare and treasured books that adorned the shelves. Bathed in the soft glow of gas lamps, he was nestled in an ornate, much too large armchair, surrounded by a collection of books that held secrets in their aged pages.

In the dimly lit library, Matt sat engrossed in the pages of a weathered medical tome. The leather-bound book lay open on his lap, its delicate pages filled with intricate illustrations and detailed descriptions of ailments and their remedies. The book itself was even older than he himself was. His fingers traced the words, absorbing the knowledge that lay within.

Around him, the shelves stood tall, bearing witness to a vast collection of books that spanned various subjects and eras. History, philosophy, poetry, and literature mingled together, creating an intellectual tapestry that mirrored the breadth of human knowledge. The scent of aged paper and worn leather filled the air, a comforting aroma that always seemed to put Matthew at ease.

As his eyes scanned the pages, his mind delved into a world of medical theories and practices. The tome spoke of ailments, treatments, and the delicate art of healing. Matthew found solace in these pages, finding comfort in the tangible knowledge they held.

Lost in thought, Matt's focus shifted momentarily from the book to the surrounding shelves. His eyes wandered over the titles, the eclectic collection reflecting Arthur's insatiable thirst for knowledge as well as his need to collect. Mostly pshysical valuables. He marveled at the diversity, the wealth of human ideas and experiences captured in the rows upon rows of books.

But amidst the philosophical musings and historical accounts, there was one section that stood out to Matthew—the shelves dedicated to art. A wide array of gathered paintings, drawings, and sketches shoved into an old leather binder adorned the shelves. Matt's gaze lingered on a particular piece of paper that had slipped out of the carefully gathered pile of papers and stuck out from the rest, if only slightly. Enough to see that the sketch was done some time ago and certainly not by Arthur himself.

It was in the realm of art Matthew used to find peace. In those days, sketching was his solace, his sanctuary where he could pour out his emotions and express the depths of his soul. As a quiet child, this was one of his favorite hobbies. It was a language he understood.

But as the years went by and his life took unexpected turns, Matthew's artistic pursuits became neglected. There was little room left for creative expression. The once vibrant palette of colors faded, replaced by the weight of duty and the burdens of history.

A sigh escaped his lips, tinged with a hint of regret. He wondered if he still possessed that same artistic spark, however limited the ability may be, to capture beauty on canvas. Doubt crept into his thoughts, whispering that perhaps he had lost that part of himself some time ago.

Shaking his head, Matthew banished those doubts and refocused his attention on the open tome before him. With renewed determination and interest, he continued reading the medical tome, absorbing the knowledge within its pages. For now, he set aside the canvas and the paintbrush.

Just as he was about to turn the page, the library door swung open, and in rushed Jack, his still-growing, energetic footsteps echoing through the room.

"Matt!"

Startled, he snapped the tome shut and looked up, his heart pounding in his chest. Jack's voice echoed through the library, calling for him with a mix of excitement and curiosity.

The abruptness of Jack's intrusion caught Matt off guard, his mind still processing the wealth of knowledge he had just absorbed.

"Hey, Matt!" Jack exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "What are you reading there? Anything interesting?"

Matthew's eyes meet Jack's. There was a brief pause as he considered his response, his words cautious and measured. "It's a book on medicine," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. He looked at the book, turning it around in his hands and tracing along the title on the cover with his finger. "Old book. Older than you by at least by a few decades."

"Why do you speak French?" Jack blurted out, his eyes wide with anticipation. Completely ignoring the previous answer to his questions. Matthew got used to that by that point.

Matthew's lips parted, his voice quiet and measured. "I learned it... growing up."

Confusion knitted Jack's brow. "But why? We're English!"

A flicker of sadness danced in Matthew's eyes, but he masked it well. "I'm not English. Neither are you. "

"Father says we are."

"I suppose there's no debate then." Matthew had no fight left in him to continue this fruitless discourse.

"Why do you speak French?" Jack tried again. The hope that his question will be answered this time very much present in his big, green eyes.

"There are reasons... I suppose it's my mother tongue."

Jack's curiosity only grew stronger. "Then why don't you have a French accent?"

Matthew's response was curt, his tone guarded, yet slightly amused. "Accents can change... depending on where one stays for a long period of time."

Jack thought about it for longer than Matthew deemed necessary, but he didn't comment. The boy's gaze shifted to the shelves of books surrounding them. "Why does Father think Francis is a bad person?" Jack was eyeing the books, absentmindedly asking questions he didn't know the weight of.

Matthew hesitated, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "There are... complicated history and personal reasons I think."

A furrow formed between Jack's brows, a contast to his young face. "What do you think of Francis?"

The amusement left Matthew instantly.

Matthew's silence was deafening, his emotions tangled in a web of unspoken words. He shook his head, avoiding Jack's gaze. "I can't answer that, Jack."

The frustration tinged Jack's voice as he pressed on. "Why not? Is he really a bad person?"

Matthew's eyes darted away, his voice barely a whisper. "He... he is complicated, Jack. It's not as simple."

Jack's eagerness began to wane, replaced by a mixture of frustration and confusion. "I don't understand... Why won't you tell me?"

A wave of panic crashed over Matthew, his chest tightening with unspoken fears. He fought to maintain composure, his voice strained. "It's... it's complicated, Jack. I can't explain it all."

Jack's frustration reached a boiling point, his voice escalating into a frustrated yell. "Why won't you ever talk about yourself, Matt? You know everything about me. About Zee. But I can't know anything about you? It's not fair!"

Matthew winced at the intensity in Jack's voice, his eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and resignation. He took a step back, his hands trembling slightly. "Jack, please try to understand... It's not...I am not..."

Slight tears welled up in Jack's eyes. The same tears that had Arthur allowing his son to bring a new wild animal into the house, knowing fully well he'd have to replace the ottoman a week after due to unfortunate fabric ripping or nonwashable stains. "But why, Matt? We're supposed to be like brothers! I've trusted you with everything, and you won't give me anything in return!"

Jack's curiosity and frustration burned bright in his eyes as he leaned closer to Matthew. "Matt, what happened? Why doesn't anyone tell me anything? I'm not stupid!"

Matthew's gaze flickered, a shadow of discomfort crossing his face. He hesitated for a moment, his voice filled with evasion. "Jack, it's complicated. And of course you're not stupid! Just... There are things in our past that are not pleasant, things best left unsaid."

Jack's brows furrowed with determination as he leaned in even closer, his voice growing more insistent. " I can handle it. Tell me, what happened?" Jack insisted with a burning fervor.

A wave of overwhelm washed over Matthew, his breath catching in his throat. His gaze darted around the room, searching for an escape, but finding none.

His voice trembled slightly as he spoke, each word weighed down by the weight of his past. "Francis... is best when he's by himself, Jack."

Jack's eyes widened, a mix of shock and disbelief washing over his face. "Why? Did he really leave you like father says?"

Matthew's voice cracked with vulnerability as he continued, his gaze fixed on an unseen horizon. "Jack, it's really not important. "

Matt sat back down to regain his composure. He hoped Jack wouldn't notice his disconcertment.

Jack wouldn't have it. Matt never avoided his questions like this. It didn't seem right. He refused to let the topic rest, his voice filling with determination. "Did you do something to make him upset?"

Matthew shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze shifting away from Jack's piercing eyes. He was taken aback by this question. It wasn't one he was anticipating or expecting. "I don't know." He said honestly, for the first time in this suffocating conversation.

"Trust me, it's better if we don't dwell on it." Matt tried again. He always tried with Jack.

Jack's frustration grew with each dodge, his voice growing more insistent. "No! I won't let it go!"

Matthew's breath caught in his throat, his voice strained as he tried to find the right words. "I am his son. He is my father. But...politics... They change, Jack. People tend to find what's best for them, what suits them better. Like I said, it's best to look forward in life."

Jack's voice trembled with a mix of anger and hurt. "Why won't you answer me, Matt? Don't you trust me? Am I not important enough to know?"

Matthew's eyes filled with tears, his voice barely a whisper. "Of course you're important to me, Jack. It's just... I can't open that door again." The tears didn't shed this time. Not from Matthew. He had enough of those in the past decades. If he was going to be even the slightest bit honest, he would do it in a composed state.

Undeterred, yet still aware of the shift in the room's aura, Jack's voice grew softer, tinged with vulnerability. "Do you want Francis to come back? Do you miss him?"

A heavy silence hung in the air as Matthew's eyes locked with Jack's. The weight of the question was unbearable, pushing him to his breaking point. They locked eyes for a long moment until finally, Jack opened his mouth to add something else. Abruptly, Matthew's composure shattered. Overwhelmed by a tidal wave of emotions, he felt his heart race and his breath quicken. A silent panic attack consumed him, the weight of his secrets and unanswered questions suffocating him.

Without another word, Matthew rushed out of the library, leaving Jack standing there, bewildered and filled with unanswered inquiries. The air in the room grew still, the books on the shelves standing as silent witnesses to the unspoken complexities that shaped their lives. They were taunting him as he walked out. A silent reminder of the history and recognition that he could never have.

In the wake of Matthew's departure, Jack was left with a burning curiosity, a hunger for understanding that gnawed at his core. The questions remained unanswered, the mystery surrounding Matthew and his past deepening with every passing moment.

And as the library fell into a hushed silence, it held the weight of untold stories. As if waiting along with Jack for Matthew to return. As Matthew always did.

.

Soo uhhhh

I'm sorry again, but I truly do love me some angsty Matt. He had a tough childhood and I shan't let him rest :)

Maybe a part 2 if I decide it's worth continuing. idk if people like it I will continue this angst lol

Anw, Francis ain't shit and you have my written and verbal consent to run him over in any motor vehicle model of your personal choosing.

#ohhhhh and matt is emotionaly constipated bless his french canadian soul #we all want a jack in our live amirite #meli writes #new tag alert weewoooweewooo #hws canada #hws australia #hetalia #hetali fanfiction #historical hetalia #matthew williams #jack kirkland

[123clarizavilma]

A little note:

Okay, so my creator just had this AU in their head and they want to share this with you so here meet:

SANSCELIA (If Sans Has a mother)

(Sanscelia's magic ability was telekinesis. And She was able to break the reset button when confronting a human with a determined soul and a desire to pursue the genocide playthrough. With her strong determination backing her up, she was able to reset everything without the human getting involved. Thus, the humans who were killed during this route remained dead and would not be revived. Sanscelia's abilities made her the second powerful being after Chara to have this power in the Underground)

The story of Sanscelia:

Before the battle between monsters and humans, Sanscelia was a human before, and she's the part of the wizard, she was being called by everyone that she is soft hearted and gentle wizard...

But everything went worse than she expected. A thief who stole the magic spell book, wanting to have magic of their own, Sanscelia was trying to take the thief down using her magic, but it didn't work. In fact, Sanscelia doesn't have enough powers to stop that thief.

And unexpectedly, rumors spread fast, saying that Sanscelia was the one who stole the magic spell book. In fact, the thief had given false information to Sanscelia, taking the blame off of themselves and onto her.

Frustrating the wizards, they punished Sanscelia by making her pay for something she didn't do and for stealing the Magic spell book, even though it was neither her fault nor the one who stole it. She wanted to explain everything but they refused to listen, calling her a liar instead

From now on, the wizards placed a curse upon Sanscelia, turning her into a monster, causing her to lose her skin and hair...She was now turning into a skeleton.

As a result of her punishment, Sanscelia was terrified of what had happened to her. She didn't know what to do to reverse the spell...

She wanted to explain to everyone that she wasn't the one who stole the Magic spell book, but what everyone saw was what she had turned into, they started laughing and saying "that's what happens if you commit a crime." The embarrassment and hurt Sanscelia felt were too much for her to handle, and she couldn't help but cry.

She hid herself in the woods, hoping that no one would find her. She kept crying and crying, having lost all hope of resolving the mess created by the false information that the thief had spread to everyone, including the wizards.

Apparently, someone heard the cries and followed where they came from. Sanscelia wasn't expecting this: a tall skeleton man handed her a tissue to wipe away her tears. And She thanked him

He introduced himself as Wingdings Gaster, the Royal Scientist of monsters. Sanscelia also introduced herself to him, and she explained that she was an "Ex Wizard" of humans, and that they had punished her for stealing a Magic spell book even though she hadn't committed the crime

Gaster couldn't help but feel empathy for Sanscelia's backstory. He felt sorry for her after what happened and the curse the wizards had placed on her

Knowing that Sanscelia was forbidden to stay at her house or the village, Gaster suggested that she could stay at his place where it would be warm and comfortable for her

As the Royal Scientist of Monsters, Gaster wanted to test Sanscelia's condition after she had turned into a skeleton. However, he didn't expect this: although she had become a skeleton, but her human organs were still inside her body

Sanscelia felt puzzled by this discovery. A human organ still inside her body? She was surprised by this unexpected discovery

One day, the war broke out between humans and monsters. Gaster protected Sanscelia from the fighting, as she was too weak to fight alongside the humans, having been a human herself not long ago

After a long battle, the humans were victorious, and they sealed the monsters underground with a magic spell. Sanscelia was also sealed there, along with the other monsters, when the spell was cast

Since Sanscelia was now known as part of the monsters, having been sealed with them underground, she couldn't help but feel upset. As she had been a wizard before, she could no longer feel the magic she once wielded, cursed as she was.

From now on, Sanscelia was now a monster, a skeleton lady with human organs inside her, allowing her to live longer than humans

As many years passed, Sanscelia became a popular figure among the monsters, being now considered the underworld's first superstar. She was known for her singing, dancing, and pun-making skills

This popularity arose happened after the separation between Toriel and Asgore, the queen and king of the monsters, as well as the loss of their children

As well as her popularity, Wingding Gaster and Sanscelia fell in love and decided to wedded

Even though Sanscelia had become a skeleton, she still had human organs inside her body that allowed her to bear children and become pregnant

Nine months passed, and her son was finally born. She named him Sans after her own name

Her son was also a skeleton, lacking human organs inside his body

However, when Sanscelia gave birth, her son was unresponsive

Sanscelia was in a state of panic due to her son being unresponsive, as was Gaster

Gaster ran tests and examined their son to find out the reason for his unresponsive state, yet he was shocked to discover that the boy had no soul

Gaster tried to find a way to create a new soul for their son, but he found out that there is no way to create a new soul

At this point, Sanscelia decided to sacrifice herself by giving her soul to her unresponsive son for the sake of creating a new soul. Despite Gaster's best efforts, he was unable to create a new soul, as he understood there was no use. Hence, Sanscelia, despite her hesitation, was determined to sacrifice herself, and decided to give her soul to her unresponsive son

Now that Sanscelia was willingly giving her soul to her son, Gaster managed to capture her soul to transfer it to their child. However, despite everything working as intended, Gaster still couldn't keep himself from feeling profound sadness upon witnessing the death of his one and only love

Everyone in the underground heard the tragic news that Sanscelia had passed. They all felt a great sense of sadness and grief over her sudden loss, including the Ex Queen of the underground. They all understood that she had sacrificed herself to grant life to her child.

And as time went on, the story of Sanscelia's life and eventual death was forgotten by almost everyone in the underground...

(If you have questions when you confuse about this story, just ask and I will answer it directly)

#undertale fandom #undertale au #undertale

[moonjxsung]

ugh your response just ugggghhhhhh speaks to my soul. giggling and kicking my feet at how much u fit the minho agenda

i haven’t really been in too many relationships, but the ones that I have been in have been so terrible for my sexual identity. let’s get into it.

I’m extremely introverted, (but very open and bubbly around my friends/fam/inner circle ykwim?), but most of the time super shy and anxious ESP in public places that involve advocating for myself with ordering food or asking someone else for anything etc. I HATE IT I JUST WANT TO RUN AND HIDE AND RAHHHHHH

haven’t always been like this, i was a super extroverted kid, but i think as I’ve grown up and gone through a number of experiences in which I’ve lost that confidence and ignorant bliss that i used to have, my personality evolved as a result.

anywaysssss, my most recent ex was very extroverted but also very controlling, (which i ignored for way too long to not be affected by) however he lacked the ability to give me that safe feeling that i need in a relationship—i need a dom partner who uses that power dynamic in a loving and affirming way towards me, if that makes sense? like i get a lot of comfort from affirming words from the person im with in that dom position.

( the ex was a fucking waste of human . When i tried testing the waters to come out to him, he told me that if i was “gay”(meaning anything but straight) he would immediately break up with me and would have never dated me, he never made me cum even one time, and cheated on me :D )

anyways.

I’m such a sub but tbh would maybe be open to versing IF my partner was into that? yeah i feel like that was an even more submissive thing to say than saying I’m a sub goodbye🧍🏽‍♀️

had to add the babygirl princess himself

Thank u for adding babygirl hanji he cleansed the palate after listening to your shitty ex story good LORDDDDD….. the part about you trying to come out to him????? Sheesh what a fucking loser

I totally get what you mean about someone needing to establish a safe environment for you to be in that sort of dynamic. I definitely feel the same way in that I need to feel safety and security before literally anything else in a relationship and because I’m usually the one who prefers to be in control, I try my best to keep things as safe as possible, like opening the door for clear communication, making sure we’re both on the same page about what we want, establishing clear boundaries, etc. It sounds like your ex never valued any of that and that’s why it wasn’t the fit for you. I think it’s very easy to get caught up in that mindset of feeling like you have more control over someone outside of a romantic or sexual sense when you’re the one wearing the pants in a relationship, so I definitely just advocate for very clear communication and being able to express what we both want out of something. And I usually expect it back (though I always somehow get stuck talking to women who like to reap the benefits of a woman w inherently masculine traits without wanting to date an actual woman and it sucks lmao) but yeah, in short I just like to sort of be the person initiating everything and taking care of another person and establishing a safe space for both of us to just be comfortable and safe with each other. That’s another reason I’m really attracted to introverts and shy people because I can sorta facilitate those conversations and check in w them to make sure they’re comfortable and the dynamic is just…. something I’m very attracted to lmao

You’ll definitely have your share of SHITTY fucking people and you’ll have to sort of learn what you want out of a relationship but I have no doubt you’re going to find someone who treats you like the absolute angel you are 🫶 don’t ever settle for less than you deserve and know that your scummy ex doesn’t determine what’s still out there for you. You deserve to be safe and loved and taken care of and your ex deserves to rot in hell

Sending u all my love little angel xoxoxoxo 💞💞💖💗💝💞💕💓👼🫶

#ask

[osatokun]

I'd love to know more about Glinda and her relationship with Gale!

she is a character,an npc from the vampire the masquerade ttrpg I'm playing. Lover (and now wife) of my OC. I just love her so much, a perfect woman. So I took her and started to play BG as Glinda. I'm lucky too meet another Glinda near Baldur's Gate, this name doesn't sound that weird when there are another Glindas around..

Gale is very, very similar to my OC in character ( but much younger) so naturally Glinda the tiefling fell for him. Just her type, a soft loving soul yearning for comfort.

Glinda-Sophia Dequir, the tiefling, has a very silly lore, because..why not,she's gonna be a saviour of the Baldur's Gate. She is a strong sorcerer with..not a food ability to control her powers, wild magic is making wild stuff. She was born near Baldur's gate in a small village for sure. Her parents died when she was maybe 11 or so, and she almost burned down the entire village unable to control her emotions, probably accidently summoned a fire creature of some sorts. Elemental or even a young tiny dragon (silly, yes, I'm bad at dnd lore.but her original vtm lore connected to the dragon, thats where she got her big scar on the chest originally. Plus I only played in Chult campaign and I have absolutely bo idea what's happening here on that sword coast)

Anyway,she ran away, but Elminster found her and, well, raised her. I told you I have stupid story?I do, yes. He mostly taught her how to control her emotions better, her magic better, how to look deeper in things and seek for the truth. Most of the time he had no idea who he is, he was jurs El, a funny old man, cheese lover. She knows a lot about cheese, yes. In the end, he is so freakin old, he could have a few spare years to raise a wild kid. But the most important thing, he helped her to steel her will. She is a determined iron villing disaster now.

Having this story in mind, I find it satisfying to be grumpy to Elminster. She is like, wtf dad, Mystra hurts people, all the time , and she wants to hurt the man I love, Im gonna fight her with my bare fists.

At the time she was stolen by ilithids she ..probably had a little business of her own, a tiny potions shop or something, having pretty calm life.

What else can I get from my vision of the character.

She has zero shame, she is still very curious, sometimes its for the bad. She is studying necromancy (a bit..necromancy of Thay was very calling for her) . When Gale is trying to catch the whole picture, see all the situation, she points to the smaller things. Sometimes it helps her not to get lost, sometimes it helps him.

She is extremely monogamous, and not ready to share her love and bed with strangers, she need to trust person frist to get them into her life. But she fell very quick for Gale because ..well, in the horrors they all were dropped in, first thing he promised is to make a good meal. In the very beginning. Local man falls from the sky and offers you a home made food? He is my husband now.

Plus he differs a lot from other companions. All of them used to the fights, even she herself fought creatures in the local woods. And he is just a wizard in distress, wanting to go back to his cat and cozy tower. A lot of knowledge in his head, not that much blood on his hands. He brought her some comfort she needed to stay strong and believe in finding a way to cure.

For the relationships they have.. mostly comforting and loving? that's pretty generic, he is a very comforting character after all. She keeps him closer to the earth, becoming a God sounds like a destruction of one already so perfect adorkable human being. I picture him as a person who keeps his personal encounters very private, doesn't like to show even too much skin to the others and generally liking to share time alone with his lover, be it a talk or a date. Better go to the Weave and talk to eachother without anyone's hearing, or more x) it's hard to get personal space while traveling..

Glinda on other hand is absolutely fine with disturbing personal spaces, but she is doing her best to hold herself in her hands. She is..imagine a person who acts like a cat sometimes. I'm sure even her tail is twitching and wagging when she's angry. But she is being very respective for his comfort. Thats why Im happy they got to Baldurs gate and finally got a room for themselves x.x

What else can I say.. hm..

She is 30 something years old,maybe 34 or so. Likes stupid books a bit too much. Oh she laughed so hard when they found "Elminster library" and the erotic books about Volo,El and faeries.

she adores his level of awkwardness just as he adores hers. And she'll punch in the face everyone who hurts her man (respectfully acknowledging aloud that he can take care of himself, but she also want to take care herself.)

She probably has fur on tips of her ears and loves head scratches. Not the inside ones tho..

#Ask #Glinda #But the other Glinda #The tiefling #Bf3 #Thank you for the ask!!! #I love all versions of Glinda so much

[djcarnationsblog]

OC Ramble: Andrez

Hi, yes hello, Time to do an oc ramble of my first bsd oc

Andrez is an AMAB bigender mafioso, going by either he/him or she/her. He comes from a long line of Mafia men and women, everyone in his family tree was apart of the Mafia at some point in their lives. He was born and raised to be a Mafioso.

However, his profession doesn’t align with his personality. Andrez is an empathetic and calm person, very down to earth and even a little sarcastic at times, but he’s good natured. Because of said personality, people would forget the fact that he’s ever even dangerous to begin with, let alone a mafia member.

Andrez is also one of the few black people apart of the Port Mafia, a mix of Mexican (Mother’s side) and black (Father’s side). Andrez is also a very well-respected figure in the mafia, but not because of her ranking, just below executive level, but because of her unofficial title of the ‘Big Sibling’ of the pm.

A nice fun fact about her is that when she was a bit younger, she had a dream of being a college teacher, and still does as a matter of fact. She’s not too active in the Mafia because of this, taking online college courses to earn a teaching degree, and using the things she learned to help other, much younger members who hadn’t gotten the chance to go to school at all.

Even better, as she currently also has a job as a part time model, using the more corrupted side of the industry, like their media, to siphon information when such is needed. Overall, Andrez is a very productive person, and that shows in many ways.

Now, this next bit can and can’t be seen as a backstory!

Andrez was at least two when she lost her eyesight to an eye disease, her vision almost completely unsalvageable. It was also around the time in which her ability first developed, The Promised Islands.

Andrez’ family was rightfully devastated, which spurred on the actions of seeking out someone by any means necessary, specifically an ability user, who could somehow help fix their child’s sight. It took at least until Andrez was seven for them to find someone.

This ability user, a man who could create almost anything that’s not impossible to make, had created a special pair of glasses for Andrez, giving her the ability to see as long as she wore them. It was a huge relief for the family.

But with this, came some complications.

The more that Andrez aged, the more that the limits of his ability became prominent. He could only use it if he was blind, which meant removing the glasses and subjecting Andrez to that emptiness. Andrez, however, wasn’t afraid of this, and honed his ability with diligence and determination, a patience that doesn’t run in the family at all.

Andrez was able to summon and command the spirits on the other side, in whichever afterlife there is, Hell’s Realm, Neutral Space and Heaven’s Gates. Through these spirits, Andrez went on to become the only person in the world who knew what awaited humanity in the afterlife, and hasn’t told a single soul of what it looked like.

Andrez became an official member of the pm at the age of fourteen, working under the manager of the Weaponry and Ammunition department for several years, later on becoming the assistant manager as seventeen. He was a hardworking individual, and much more mature for his age, a thing that happened to all the children in his family.

At the age of fifteen, Andrez lost his leg in a combat mission, resulting in the metal leg you’ll see in his reference sheet. He’s not too fond of how it happened, so nobody really knows how, they simply speculate and gossip rumors.

And, at the age of seventeen is when he met the danger duo; Sokouku.

Actually, it was of Mori’s order that led to their meeting, as at the time, the two had just met at fifteen, and working together was still a new thing for them, so missions tended to get messy really fast.

Andrez worked in the shadows as damage control, as he was best suited for handling the damage of such large properties, so property damage was surprisingly kept to a minimum, at least until Corruption was used. Andrez still hasn’t been able to handle damage control when it came to missions in which Corruption was necessary.

Like Hirotsu, Andrez was there to witness the progression, then subsequent downfall of Sokouku and their relationship, he even took it upon himself to tutor Chuuya and the Akutagawas. Dazai himself didn’t need tutoring, thanks to his intelligence, but Andrez still insisted to at least attempt to give him something close to the mundane experience of schooling.

Even to this day, when their adults and all, Andrez gives Chuuya and the Akutagawas college level education, especially so after graduating from college himself.

Another thing to mention would be the relationship between Andrez and one Sakunosuke Oda.

She and Sakunosuke were good friends, and one could often see them together at Bar Lupin, after Dazai and Ango would vacate. Other than that, there have been multiple times where they’d been to each other’s houses, and Sakunosuke even introduced her to the kids as well. They had a calm and very close friendship between them, although never as close as Dazai and Sakunosuke, not that Andrez minded.

After particularly hard missions, Andrez would be at Bar Lupin, explaining her rough day as Sakunosuke would patch her up. She even felt safe enough around him to remove her glasses, allowing Sakunosuke around her whilst blind.

Of course, no good thing lasts forever, and the Mimic Incident occurred.

Rightfully, Andrez was devastated, but not so much as one may think, especially because of her privilege. She always felt selfish for it, but it was necessary that Dazai never knew.

Her ability saved her grief.

They were still with her, the children as spirits of Heaven’s Gates, and Sakunosuke from Neutral Space. She had Sakunosuke promise to keep tabs on Dazai, as long as she promised in return to not tell him anything of their meetings until the time was right.

Dazai needed to remain ignorant to fulfill the promise he made to Sakunosuke, because as close as he was to the man, there was no garuntee he’d be inclined to leave the mafia, what Sakunosuke knew would be best for him, if he could simply communicate through Andrez’ ability. So of course, everything remained as it was.

And now, for a special little guest!

Chitter!!!

This is Chitter, and there’s one thing that’s most important to know about it!

Nobody knows what the fuck it is.

Not even I know what Chitter’s supposed to be, it’s just some kind of unidentifiable creature that has some sort of tie to the cycle of the afterlife, and as a result, connects to Andrez’ ability in a wacky way.

Because of its odd, indescribable tie with the afterlife, Andrez can in fact summon it as normal. The thing is, Chitter can come and go as much as it wants, can practically do anything without the jurisdiction of Andrez. It’s been her companion for as long as she can remember, a circus inspired creature that’s unknown to the world.

Chitter goes by any and all pronouns, as it literally is incapable of caring about what gender it’s perceived as, if people see it with a gender at all. Andrez usually calls it by either it/its or they/them.

The reason why it’s named Chitter, is because that thing can’t stop talking to save its life. It has to make a conscious effort to shut up, or it won’t, and it’s completely normal for Chitter. The only problem? To Andrez, it’s perfect fucking japanese.

To everyone else? Static clown laughter.

It’s chatter actually has the ability to drown out a person’s thoughts, make it completely incapable to think as long as one can hear Chitter chattering. Chitter, because of it’s odd nature, is also the only spirit-like creature Andrez has ever seen from her ability, as her ability obviously requires her blindness, and Chitter doesn’t need that incentive to be summoned.

The only person other than Andrez who can think clearly around Chitter, is surprisingly and unsurprisingly, Chuuya.

It’s mostly because instead of drowning out his thoughts, Chitter drowns out Arahabaki’s voice since it’s the most prominent sound in Chuuya’s brain, and because of that, Chuuya has this weird fondness towards the critter, as Chitter has an oddly strong like for Chuuya.

You can often see Chitter tucked under Chuuya’s hat, too. Chattering away. Additionally, whenever Chitter chatters, it vibrates, almost like a bobblehead, just twenty times more extreme. So Chuuya’s hat vibrates when Chitter’s hangin’ out inside it.

Suffice to say though, Dazai hates Chitter. For obvious reasons.

And Chitter likes Dazai anyways. For not so obvious reasons.

Anyways! Onto Funfacts!

> Andrez is a coffee-addict, as it takes quite a lot of energy to summon spirits, especially much bigger and more dangerous ones.

>Andrez is Bigender and Aromantic, but likes giving platonic kisses to his friends.

> Andrez is 6′8, making him taller than Dazai, and MUCH taller than Chuuya.

>Andrez’ mother miscarried who would have been his baby brother, and wears the choker daily to honor him.

>Andrez nicknamed Dazai ‘The Suicidian’ or simply ‘Suicider’.

>Andrez sometimes sparred with Chuuya when he was fifteen, but Chuuya only really started winning the fights at seventeen.

>Chuuya and Andrez have a very close brother/sibling and student/teacher relationship.

>Akutagawa will sometimes accompany Andrez whilst he does his work, only ever when he needs some form of comfort and won’t admit it. Andrez simply rubs his back his entire stay.

>Lil thing from me, if I hadn’t made Andrez Aromantic and completely uninterested in romance for himself, I would’ve shipped him with Sakunosuke.

>When Dazai left, Andrez would often find his way into Chuuya’s office to subtly check up on his mental condition, then at Bar Lupin would check with Sakunosuke to see how Dazai is holding up.

>Andrez, along with Kouyou, was the one to help teach Chuuya to read, as he was illiterate when he first joined the Port Mafia.

>Andrez finds it funny how Chitter would hop from his shoulder and wiggle their way into Chuuya’s hat when they cross paths.

>Chitter has clung themself to Dazai before, and he almost went mad trying to get the creature off him so he could think properly. Chitter shows no signs of regret.

Aaaand that’s about it for my buddy Andrez! If you have any questions about Andrez or Chitter, feel free to ask!

#DJC Rambles #Oc Rambles #Andrez bsd #Chitter bsd #Bungou Stray Dogs

[forever-rogue]

Hiya! For the 101 ways to say I love you, is it okay to ask for din djarin with 73, 83, and 84? Love you, hope you're having a good week so far!

AN | Hello, my love, I hope you enjoy and thank you for being patient!

Pairing | Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Depiction of injury

Masterlist | The Mandalorian, Main

Prompts Used | 73. “You never let me down.” ; 83. “What happened to you?” ; 84. “Does it hurt?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Your lip trembled with effort as you tried to not cry out loud at the gash on your upper arm. It didn’t appear too deep, you hoped, but it had hurt, stinging and burning as the metal scraped your arm. Once you’d gotten the bleeding to stop, you pulled out your emergency medical supplies and cleaned it up, along with the scrapes on your leg and hip, hoping the initial shock and pain would wear off and you’d be fine. You felt pathetic as you wiped away the tears that had pearled up and rolled down your cheeks as you wrapped up your injury.

There would be no way that you could hide this from your Mandalorian companion. Even if you were able to conceal the actual wounds, he would be able to see right through you and know that something was wrong. A heavy sigh escaped past your chapped lips as you slowly forced yourself up to your feet, gingerly swinging your pack over your shoulder. You’d spotted this abandoned compound in the middle of the forest when you’d first arrived on the seemingly uninhabited midland planet and had foolishly decided to explore it on your own. There was a part of you that needed a small break from your large silver and small green companions and a larger part of you just wanted to prove your own ability to scavenge and survive on your own.

That had turned out to be a complete cosmic joke; you could practically feel the universe laughing at you.

The worst part of it all - you hadn’t even been able to find anything, not even old scrap. There was nothing in there; it had been truly abandoned and left to decay with the passage of time. It was when you were leaving the structure, having lost your initial way that you were forced to squeeze through a small metal opening, which caused the current injuries you were dealing with. It wasn’t even like you could say something cool happened….you’d literally done this to yourself.

“Stupid fool,” you chided yourself as trudged back to the Crest, hoping you didn’t look worse for the wear. Each step caused a small surge of pain to shoot up your spine, but you were determined to make it back to ship without calling out for help from Din. That was the last time you were going to something this stupid...at least for a while.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was dark, late but not exceedingly so, by the time you’d made it back to the crest. You’d hoped for a sneaky entrance, praying to the maker that Din might be asleep or resting or something, but of course you wouldn’t be so lucky. Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked at him, the gaze of that black visor trained on you. For a single, fleeting moment, there was a bit of hope that bubbled that he might not question you or say anything, but it wouldn’t be today, “where have you been?”

“Umm…” you stared at him in silence for a few moments before shrugging lightly, “I told you earlier. Out, exploring...yeah.”

“By yourself? For hours?” He stood up from the fire he’d been stoking, the brilliant orange and red flames reflecting off his armor and causing him to appear even more intimidating. He took a step closer, and you stepped back in fear of him looking too closely, “that’s dangerous. You could have been hurt...or worse. Why wouldn’t you tell me? What if something had happened? There are all sorts of dangers out there that you don’t even know about or wouldn’t know to look for! If something had happened…”

“I just wanted to go out there and see if there was anything we could use-”

“It’s too dangerous!” he insisted, waggling a finger in your face as he often did when attempting to be serious with the little one, “it’s not safe. You could have asked me to come with you.”

“Fine, fine, fine, you’re right,” you threw your arms up in exasperation, attempting to walk away and back into the ship in order to find solace and some pain relief from a shower. But of course, the Mandalorian didn’t budge or move in the slightest, “look, I’m sorry - I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment that can’t do anything, and that I let you down again.”

“What?” he tilted his head to the side and you just knew that he was giving that look, “you never let me down, what are you talking about?”

“I just...I feel like you’re the one that always does everything - you keep us safe, fed, warm, all of it. I dunno...I feel like I never contribute anything and for once I wanted to,” you admitted, feeling more like a child in trouble than anything else, “when we were coming in, I noticed an abandoned encampment and I decided to explore and see if there was anything there that we could use…”

“And that’s still...you don’t know what could have happened, or if people were still around,” he sighed lightly and shook his head, “you don’t know what could have happened. Did you even find anything, silly girl?”

“N-no,” the confession sat heavily in the air between the two of you. You hung your head as you tried not to look at him, glad for the cover of the evening shielding the bits of the injuries you’d acquired, “I didn’t. Look, I know I should have told you, but I wanted to do something by myself for once. I wanted to show...I can do things too, you know? It doesn’t just have to be you all the time.”

“I know you’re more than capable of handling yourself,” he slowly, almost hesitantly, reached up and brushed his fingers over your cheek, “but I also want to keep you safe. I don’t know what I’d do if....just let me know next time you need help. I know you can do anything, but I can always come, if only to be a look if nothing else. Okay?”

“Okay,” your breath caught in your throat as you just watched each other in silence. There were so many things you wanted to say, to do, but they all seemed to be lost in time. When you’d finally mustered up the courage to say something else, Din grabbed your wrist and slowly lifted up your arm, almost immediately honing in on the makeshift bandage on your upper arm. Swallowing thickly, you tried to pull out of his touch, but he was not about to let you go, “Din…”

“What happened here? Does it hurt? Who did this?” he ran a gloved hand over your bandaged gash as you hissed at the pressure. Shaking your head, you tried to calm down what you were sure were a flurry of wild thoughts.

“No one,” you admitted sheepishly, “I...umm...I did this to myself. I was trying to get out through a small opening and it didn’t work out so well. I didn’t see a single soul out there.”

“You...hurt yourself?” his voice was pitched and you wondered if he was trying to hold back a laugh. You were notoriously clumsy and it honestly wasn’t too much of a stretch to imagine you had done this to yourself, “how bad is it?”

“Just, ugh, some scratches on my leg and side, and the arm,” he reached up and slowly started to unravel your handiwork, “the arm’s the worst, but I think it’s okay.”

“Let me just take a look,” he said under his breath as you gritted your teeth at the feeling of the evening air hitting the wound. He made a small sound in the back of throat as he assessed the damage, “this needs to be closed up. Lucky for you I’m just an expert at this.”

“I-it’s fine,” you insisted, trying to pull away from him, “I can just clean and I think it’ll heal on its own.”

“I don’t think so,” he insisted softly, “I’ve had enough injuries to know that this is going to need more than just cleaning. You want to leave it - there’s a high chance it could get infected and then worst case, you could lose the arm. You really want to risk it? Or will you let me take care of you?”

“Din, you don’t need to…” it was a soft, little plea, and you didn’t want to force him to do anything he didn’t want to, “I can handle it or find some help...somewhere.”

“I want to,” he promised, taking your hand in his and slowly tugging you towards the inside of the crest, “let me take care of you. Please.”

“Yes,” you finally gave in, taking a deep, nervous breath as you chanced a small smile. Although you couldn’t see underneath the helmet, you just knew that he was returning that same look at you, “thank you.”

“Anything for you, silly girl.”

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x fem!reader #the mandalorian #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #star wars

[buckyownsmylife]

For headcanons: Loki trying to get you to admit to him your kinks and you being all shy but turned on talking about it.

I can’t believe I lost the whole fucking thing I was writing, it was so good 😭 But anyway, here’s what I can remember of it (I’m so fucking sad, y’all)

if you’re reading this and want me to write something, feel free to send me some headcanons ideas! I’ll be writing those all day!

It all started in one of those mandatory Avengers parties

Someone suggested a game of truth or dare, and even though he didn’t exactly understand the point of it, Loki would never skip an opportunity to know more about you

No one knew just how close you two had gotten ever since he arrived on the tower, nor about how you chose to spend your time together

But even though Loki felt like every night he spent with you, a new layer of his soul was unveiled even to himself

He still didn’t really know you, didn’t see just how the way you two connected was reverberating in your being, the way it was happening in his

And that never became clearer than when Natasha answered that you were the kinkiest person on the tower when asked about it

His eyebrows rose up to his hairline

That wasn’t how he was used to seeing you when the two of you were together

And the thought of not knowing all of you, not actually be entitled to each and every piece of you, including the corners of your mind you were too embarrassed to share...

Let’s just say Loki did not like that for one bit

He started to bug you about it all the damn time, whenever he was able to get you alone

You can even say he got a bit obsessive about it

But you were still too nervous to admit your true nature to him

So he had to find other ways to get you to speak...

The most efficient one was when he had you right on the brink of pleasure, about to come around his fingers, tongue, or cock

He’d stop all of his ministrations them, keeping only the bare minimum to keep you right there, on the edge, until you confessed something, anything

“Tell me, little one...” and can you just imagine his voice when he was staring up at you from between your legs?

“Tell me what you think about at night, when I’m not here to keep you satisfied. I want to know everything that makes you wet and delicious, so ready for me.”

You’d try to keep it in, hold the sheets underneath you between your fingers like that would hold the words back inside your mind, but he was determined to make it impossible for you

“Tell me and I might make it come true...”

You didn’t doubt his ability to make your wildest, filthiest fantasy an overwhelming reality even for a second, and now you were forgetting why you were afraid to share them

“I can make you so happy, little one... We can have so much fun together...”

“I can spoil you beyond your dirtiest dreams... All you have to do is tell me what you want.”

And there it was. The point of no return.

Only instead of outright saying it, you decided to show him what it was that made you aroused out of your mind - little by little.

“What if I don’t?” 

He froze then, only for a second, immediately understanding what you were doing, what you were sharing

And then a beautiful, dangerous smile spread over his face, taking over his features, making him look every bit the enticing man you’d fallen for despite everyone’s warnings

“If you don’t share your fantasies with me... I might have to keep you right here, right on the edge, until you start spilling all of those beautiful secrets you seem so keen on keeping from me”

“And what if I like that?” You immediately countered, making him once again raise his gaze to meet your eyes, finding a smile just as sinful dominating the face he’d come to know so well

“I’m gonna take you so hard you’ll be sorry you didn’t open up to me sooner.”

“Ah, now that I know I will like.”

Loki would raise up to kiss you, sharing the intimate taste of you between your tongues as he savored this newfound trust and more intimate connection that had started to grow between the two of you

“We’re gonna have so much fun, little one.”

Okay, so this is almost completely different from what I had originally written, but I don’t hate it 😯 Thank you so much for requesting something, darling - especially a Loki headcanon!

#loki #smut #my headcanons #my requests #loki requests #loki headcanon #loki headcanons #loki imagine #loki imagines #loki x reader #loki x you #loki reader fanfiction #loki reader smut #loki reader insert #loki reader inserts

[thatfanficstuff]

Her Three Kings - 24

A Volturi Kings x ofc story

Warnings: a touch of angst

A/N: eh. it's almost Sunday.

divider by firefly-graphics

Two days later found them sitting in the garden. Alice was teaching Liliana to weave flower crowns while Jasper laid a short distance away chewing on a long stem of grass. His eyes were closed and he grinned as he listened to the sisters chatter. He’d missed this. Missed having his two girls together where he could keep an eye on both of them.

Technically it wasn’t his job to keep an eye on Lily anymore. That was now the job of her mates but he didn’t think he’d ever be fully comfortable with someone else doing it. He’d taken on that responsibility for too long. When he heard another party enter the garden, he inhaled deeply. Not recognizing the scent, he sat up abruptly. “Lils?”

She glanced over then followed his gaze. “It’s okay, Jazz. That’s Sebastian. He’s one of my guards.”

Jasper gave a nod and laid back down, arms behind his head. But his eyes never left the intruder on their peaceful afternoon. He didn’t trust anyone until they’d proven themselves. Especially not around his little sister and his mate.

Lily smiled up at her guard, shielding her eyes from the harsh glare of the sun. “You don’t have to be here. The kings determined a guard wasn’t necessary as long as I was with Jasper. I thought they told you.”

He shrugged and sat in the grass far too close to Liliana for Jasper’s liking. “They did. I didn’t have anything better to do. Thought I’d see what you were up to.”

Alice laughed and held up the crown she was making.

“We’re partaking in serious business here, Guard. How dare you distract us.” The corner of Jasper’s lips curled in a smile. Lily’s fake haughty tone was, frankly, hilarious.

To be honest, until he’d seen the way she handled Bella, there had been a part of him that still wondered about her ability to be fully queen. Afterall, she was one of the kindest spirits he knew. He was worried her soul was too gentle for the job. He’d never been prouder of her than when he saw her in action in the throne room. And her mates had just leaned back and let her rule the room. As much as he hated to admit it, she belonged here. But gods, he missed her. Her absence was a physical ache at times and he had a feeling it would be worse if Lily didn’t block some of it on her end. People that were soulbound weren’t meant to be as far apart as the two of them were.

A deep laugh drew his attention back to the present and his gaze flicked from his sister to the guard. Jasper didn’t like the look in the other man’s eyes as he watched Lily. It wasn’t a look of lust or wanting. No, this was more like he was waiting for something to happen and he was afraid he’d miss it if he didn’t pay attention.

A brief thought of mentioning his worries to the kings crossed his mind but he wouldn’t. Not yet. They were likely to kill the man with no further proof than his suspicions. Besides, Lily seemed comfortable around him. And unlike the last time they were here, he hadn’t seen much of the other Volturi. They didn’t come to speak with her or spend time with her like they had before. Jasper hoped she hadn’t lost that connection she seemed to have with them. She needed that more than she probably realized herself.

Her siblings stayed for a total of five days before heading for home on one of the Volturi jets. Lily had sent them off with the information for the coven in Brazil after extracting a promise that they would visit again soon. She’d even offered the use of one of the jets to ensure it happened sooner rather than later.

After they left, Lily’s isolation became more glaring than ever. Previously, the change had been so gradual, it was easy for her to overlook it. Become used to it. But suddenly not having her cowboy or her pixie to brighten her day brought her solitude into stark relief. Even her personal guard had quit finding time to spend with her outside of their scheduled rotation. Her only company was her mates and she found herself needing it more than ever when her siblings left.

She’d spent the morning dancing and was now seeking out one of her mates. Sebastian had brought her a bag of her favorite cherry suckers the last time he’d been on duty and she happily had one in her mouth while she searched. When she reached Aro’s office, she walked in without knocking and found him behind his desk. His brow was furrowed as he scribbled on a piece of parchment.

Not wanting to interrupt his work, she sat in one of the chairs in front of his desk to wait. She pulled her feet up and tucked them underneath her. Several minutes passed before he looked up with a scowl on his face. His eyes flicked over her from top to bottom. Suddenly getting the feeling he didn’t like what he saw, Lily fidgeted in her seat.

“Did you need something?” he finally asked.

She shook her head as she bit at her lip. “I was just wanting to spend some time with you is all.”

“Yes, well, as you can see, I’m busy. Perhaps later.” And he turned back to his work without another glance in her direction. She watched him for a moment longer and he paused only to pinch the bridge of his nose.

She swallowed down her tears as she left. It was ridiculous to get so upset. He was obviously having a bad day. Normally, she would try to get him past it by paying extra attention to him but that clearly wouldn’t be welcome at the moment.

She found her blond mate in his studio making angry brush strokes on a large canvas. Fantastic. Hopefully, he’d at least be more receptive to her company. “Hello, my love.”

A grunt was his only response. She sat on a stool at the side of the room so she was out of the way and just watched him work. That lasted about ten minutes before he tossed a brush down in frustration. “Don’t you have something you can do besides stare at me?”

Her brows shot up. “Nothing as enjoyable, I assure you.”

He rolled his eyes and she was proud of herself for biting back the comment she wished to make. “Isn’t there some work you should be doing? I believe you’re behind in your correspondence.”

She hopped to her feet. “The three of you told me in no uncertain terms to take today off, so I did. You don’t get to be pissy about it now.” She stormed out without waiting to see if he had anything else to say. It was better for him if he didn’t.

She paused in the common area wondering if she dare risk getting the same reaction from Marcus. Having all of them irritated with her at the same time wasn’t something she looked forward to. Of course, the alternative was for her to spend her afternoon alone. With a sigh, she made way to Marcus’ office. She opened the door without knocking and found him reclining on the sofa reading a book.

Hearing her enter, he looked up and smiled when he saw it was her. “Mia regina, how lovely it is to see you.”

Lily’s shoulders immediately relaxed as the tension left them. “Thank god.” She moved to him and he set the book aside so she could curl up in his lap.

His arms wrapped around her as he pressed a kiss to her head and rubbed her back with a hand. “What is the matter? Are you alright?”

She nodded against his chest. “Yeah. Aro and Caius are just in a mood. I was worried you would be too.”

He kissed her temple and hummed. “They should not be like that with you. If anything, your presence should have brought them comfort and eased any irritation. You haven’t argued with either of them, have you?”

“Nope,” she answered, popping the p. “They’re just being dicks.”

Marcus chuckled. “Well, they have been known to be that on occasion. Now, tell me what you’ve been up to since I saw you last.”

Lily pushed herself off his chest to frown at him. “It’s been like seven hours.”

He nuzzled his nose along her temple. “Exactly. So much could have happened.”

Marcus and Lily remained in his rooms for the rest of the day until they were due to appear for an early morning trial. She chose one of the dresses that had found its way to his closet. When she emerged wearing it, he stopped and stared at her. She fidgeted uncertainly until he licked his lips and said, “You look beautiful, dolcezza.”

That earned him a genuine smile and when she moved across the room to kiss him, he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to deepen it. He smiled against her lips as he backed her up to the bed. As it turned out, they were rather late for the trial and when they arrived, Aro swept her away from his brother and into his own arms. Once she’d settled on his lap, he buried his nose in her neck and pleaded for forgiveness as he tried to remember why he’d been so irritated with her to begin with.

#volturi kings fanfiction #marcus volturi fanfiction #caius volturi fanfiction #aro volturi fanfiction #volturi kings x ofc #aro volturi x ofc #caius volturi x ofc #marcus volturi x ofc #twilight fanfiction #series #her three kings

[fanmoose12]

nothing but my aching soul

Levi and Hange's first time happens when both of them are far from being young.

(or a ridiculously fluffy fic about Levi being a nervous wreck).

nsfw under the cut!

It was ridiculous, foolish and absurd.

He used to be a soldier who dealt with giant, human eating monsters with precise efficiency and zero fear. He survived a goddamn war, he made it out of the bloody apocalypse. There was no reason for him to be nervous about anything, especially not about this.

After all, it was just Hange, weird, quirky Hange who knew him inside out, far better than he knew himself.

And after the awful war and years of yearning for each other, after Hange had whispered a confession to him during one of the many nights she spent in hospital with him, after she confirmed that yes, she loved him, his feelings were very much reciprocated, they always were, taking their relationship to a next stage was only natural, wasn't it?

Besides, it wasn't like he hadn't think about it, he dreamed about it, albeit briefly, in the rare times when their lives weren't in mortal danger and the fate of the whole world wasn't resting on their shoulders.

And he thought about it - about Hange and things he wished they were allowed to do - a lot, a truly embarrassing amount of time, actually.

He thought, he dreamed, he fantasied about it, but now that he had an actual Hange in front of him, and not an image from one of his numerous wet dreams, he wasn't sure how to proceed.

"We don't have to do it, you know," Hange gently whispered in his ear. Damn her and her ability to read him like an open book. Levi did his best to school his expression into something neutral, to hide his nervousness from her. But, of course, he could never hide, not from Hange. "We can wait, or we can just forget it and never bring it up ever again."

Hange was already half-undressed and she was already laying on top of him. And yet, she was ready to backtrack, his comfort was, as always, her main priority.

However, Hange's comfort was his main priority too, and Levi wanted to make her feel good, not just with awkward words and cups of tea. He could see that Hange wanted to do it, to become incredibly close in more than just metaphorical sense, he wanted it to, he was determined to commit to it, but...

"Let's take it slowly, alright?" he murmured, moving his hands to her naked hips. He started rubbing them in circular motions, and Hange smiled, enjoying the gentle caress.

"Then..." she watched him closely, searching for any sign of discomfort. "Will it be okay if I kiss you?"

Levi gave a small nod, and Hange leaned in, pressing her lips against his. It was awkward at first, their noses nearly collided, but Hange tilted her head just so, and slowly deepened the kiss, turning it into something more than just a chaste touch.

"Is it okay?" she repeated, as her tongue licked at his lips.

Was it okay? Already, it was much better than simply okay. But Levi could just give Hange another nod. His right hand was still on her hip, but he moved his left hand, his healthy one, to her head, entangling it into her hair.

Now, it wasn't certainly better than simply okay, and out of sudden, Levi, who had survived war and apocalypse, who had lost people and had killed people, who had no childhood and had known little to none real happiness, who was already well in his forties, now he was feeling like a teenage boy, who was lucky enough to kiss his first love.

He was not a boy anymore, but Hange still was his first and she would be his last love, and the realization that he was kissing her, that they both survived, that now they could do anything they were denied by violence and duty, and the knowledge that the world didn't need them anymore, so they could stay like this forever, exchanging kisses like a couple of careless teenagers, was enough to make his heart clench and his chest fill with love and happiness.

He wanted to pull Hange even closer, until they were one, but as he tightened his hold on her, Hange gently disentangled herself from him.

"Hey..." her palms were on his cheeks, softly caressing his skin. "Are you alright? Did I do something wrong?"

And only then, when he saw the worry in her eye, Levi realized that his own eyes were wet.

Fuck.

He quickly wiped his eyes, blushing furiously. Hange just wanted to have a little bit of fun, wanted to make both of them feel good, and he started crying, like a damn emotional fool.

"It's fine, I'm fine," he assured Hange, keeping his face turned away from her. "Let's continue."

"Levi... if something bothers you, then just say so. I need to know if I did something to hurt you."

"You didn't hurt me," he gruffly protested. "You did nothing wrong, you..."

How could he say it? How could he tell Hange that she was making him so happy that he was ready to weep out of simple, unbrindled joy?

"It wasn't bad tears, four-eyes," he softly mumbled. "I was just..."

Too overwhelmed, too happy, far too in love.

"Oh Levi," as always, Hange seemed to understand him without actual words. She chuckled, looking at him with so much love and adoration that it made Levi wonder how in the world did he deserve all of this. "I love you so, so much," she confessed, before she left a kiss on his forehead.

"I love you," she repeated, this time pressing a kiss to right his eyelid.

"I love you," then to the left.

"I love you," this was accompanied by a kiss to the left cheek.

"I love you," and to the right.

"You're just doing this to make me cry again," he weakly protested.

Hange didn't deny it. She also didn't stop that extremely sweet torture, and pressed her lips against the curve of his nose. "I love you."

Next, she moved to the small dimple on his chin. "I love you."

"I love you," she finished, connecting their lips again.

As they pulled apart, Levi refused to let Hange move away from him. With his hand still in her hair, he made her lean closer again, until their lips were barely touching. He gazed straight in to her eyes, letting Hange see everything - his tear-streaked face, his numerous scars and his weary soul.

Then, with his voice barely above the whisper, he let out the truth that was hidden inside him for far too long.

"I love you too. More than anything."

This time, tears started to brim in the corner of Hange's only eye. She gave him a brief, weak nod, and then pressed her forehead against his, deeply inhaling his scent.

They stayed like that for a while, a long, peaceful while.

But then, when the silence stretched for far too long and Hange's loving gaze started to make him want to cry again, Levi softly nudged her, scoffing Impatiently.

"Can we continue? Before I make a complete embarrassment of myself again?"

"So impatient," Hange snickered.

She leaned back, her hands moving over his body. They traveled down his neck, across his chest, around his stomach, until...

"Oh," Hange's eye widened. "You are impatient. I didn't just make you cry, eh?"

God, was Hange on a quest to make him as red as humanly possible? Because she certainly excelled at it.

Levi quickly learnt that this wasn't the only thing Hange excelled at, and when she touched the noticeable bulge on his pants, Levi whined and backed up his hips.

Hange grinned, almost wolfishly. Levi gulped, feeling like he had just witnessed the creation of horrible, sex-addicted monster.

"Firstly, we have to take this off," she narrated, as she helped him out of his pants and underwear. Once his cock was freed, Hange wrapped her hand around it, moving it up and down his length in a quick, fluid motions.

When she leaned down, her lips hovering above his dick, Levi almost choked.

"No!" he pulled her away, his movement nearly panicked.

"No?" Hange raised her eyebrows, looking extremely confused. "I thought the men enjoy it..."

"We do, I do," Levi assured her quickly. "But..." there it was again, that damn embarrassment. "If you do this now, I'm not sure I'll be able to last for long."

"Oh..." Hange's face lightened up with understanding. "Alright, that's for another time then."

The backhand promise made heat gather deep in his stomach. Levi wetted his lips, his throat suddenly too dry.

"Hange..." he husked, lifting up his arm. "Since I'm already naked..."

"Of course," she smiled, and before he could finish his sentence, she already took off her bra. Almost immediately, she raised her hips to get rid of her panties, and Levi took a deep breath.

He thought he had seen everything this world had to offer - he had seen the vast blue sky, the bright sun, the glistening sea... But none of it, absolutely nothing, could compare to the beauty that was Hange.

Her tan skin, even with all the scars and burn marks, was perfect and soft. Her hair, although shorter than before, was still just as rich in color and shiny. Her eye held the infinite amount of warmth and intelligence. Her body was still that of a seasoned soldier, lean and muscled and strong.

Levi wanted to touch every part of her, to lavish it with love, to praise and worship it. Well, as Hange had said... that was for another time.

While he was so lost in watching her, Hange had already climbed on top of him again. Now, she took his dick in her hand and started to slowly lower herself on it. Her breath quickened and she was frowning slightly. Levi felt worry come alive inside him.

"Hange?" he carefully asked. "Can I... help with something?"

Her frown disappeared, taken over by a loving smile. She took his hand in hers, maneuvering it between her legs.

"You can touch me here," she said, pressing his fingers against her hardening clit. Levi did as Hange had told, and started to circle it, slowly at first, but growing bolder when he saw that Hange was enjoying it.

Deciding to take the initiative, Levi put his other hand on her breast, massaging her nipple softly. Hange gasped at the sudden contact and let out a little moan.

Encouraged, Levi continued his ministrations.

Finally, Hange fitted all of his length inside her.

"Good?" she asked in between pants.

Good? Hange was so warm, so wet and so tight, Levi didn't even know that something so simple could feel that fantastic. And then Hange started to move, simply lifted her hips to lower herself onto him once again, and Levi had to bite back a groan, a long, embarrassingly satisfied groan.

"Is it..." he huffed, as her next movement knocked all air out of him. "Is it just as good for you?"

"It's amazing," Hange answered, just as breathlessly. "You... you're amazing, Levi."

His strokes against her clit became more purposeful but Levi took his hand away from her chest. As soon as he did, Hange grabbed his palm, intertwining their fingers. Then, when Levi thought that it couldn't get any better, she leaned down on him and captured his lips in another sensuous kiss.

The heat in his stomach was growing and growing, nearly ready to spill.

"Hange, Hange," he puffed between the kisses. "Hange, I'm so-"

"I know," Hange swallowed all of his moans and whimpers. "I'm close too, Levi."

Another kiss and another circle around her clit, and Hange squeezed his hand almost painfully, tightening around him.

That was all it took for Levi to follow her over the edge.

Hange slipped off him and fell down next to him, burying her face into his shoulder.

"Fuck, Levi..." she softly laughed, pressing yet another kiss against his dump hair. "We should have done it sooner."

"Mm," he mumbled, too spent for anything more coherent.

"Let's stay like this," Hange pulled him closer, so his head was laying on her chest. The sound of her steady heartbeat instantly was lulling him to sleep. However, Levi couldn't allow himself to slumber just yet.

"Oi, four-eyes," he pinched her side, receiving a surprised yelp in response. "We need to shower, I feel disgusting."

Hange's eye twinkled, as she throw him a long, mischievous look. "You weren't hating it moments ago, though."

"Well, now I do," Levi started to raise up.

Hange huffed, but helped him to get up. "You never change, clean freak."

"Neither do you, four-eyes."

"A perfect couple, aren't we?" she teased.

"That we are," he agreed, grasping her hand tightly.

With Hange at his side, his heart was finally at peace.

#i'm procrastinating on writing something for my actual wips #so here have this <3 #levihan

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Ello can you do a Sky imagine where reader and him are a couple and Sky is the only one who knows that there a powerful fairy but then everyone finds out..

Part one - Intertwined 

Pairing: Sky x reader

===============================

Sky had loved every minute he spent with Y/N ever since they met. Her presence alone was enough to calm him and he had acted as a compass for her - whenever she got lost, he guided her back home - back to his arms.

They hardly put any labels on what they are, but Y/N means the world to Sky - he knows that much. And while their relationship blossomed, Sky couldn’t help but worry about her and the decisions she made concerning her powers. Not only did she choose never to divulge the true magnitude of her abilities to anyone but the headmistress and Sky, she also trained alone and it often brought dangers he couldn’t anticipate nor protect her from.

He knew the choices were hers to make but that wasn't how his brain worked. For him the man, the specialist, the soldier must always be protector, guardian, the one in the line of fire. For Y/N to be in any danger was killing him from the inside and all the while headmistress just kept saying her skills were better, he wasn't right for this job. He wanted a shot, a chance to get her out of harms way, but how can he save her from herself? 

And as the days ticked by his visions grew - blood dripping from his fingertips after each practice only to vanish into the cool autumn air. But that night wasn’t a drill he had to overcome in order to get a nod from Silva. This was real danger as the Burned Ones penetrated the barrier and threatened their security. Her security.

“That looks painful”, Y/N points to his raw hands as she leans on the wall beside Sky. “I could help a little”, she offers, her eyes on his tight lipped smile.

“You could help me by going back to the rest of the group.” Sky swallows thickly, continuing to avoid her gaze, unable to face her and show the fear and determination in his eyes. 

“That’s cold. I should know”, she alludes to her powers, forcing a small smile as she steps right in front of Sky. “If I ask you to stand down, you wouldn’t do it.”

Finally looking at her, Sky furrows his eyebrows, “Of course not.”

“Then why are you asking me to do that?” She takes his hand in hers, wetting her lips as she brings the back of his hand to her mouth. Blowing cool air, she relieves a little bit of his pain before slowly moving her eyes up to his only to find his worried hues upon her already.

“If something happens to you, I won’t make it.” Sky lowers his voice, breaking her heart as his voice wavers.

“And what exactly do you think would happen to me if something happens to you?” She raises an eyebrow, challenging him.

“I know we never said anything, but I can’t risk going into this night without you knowing.” Sky tries only to find her index finger pressed against his lips. It’s a gentle touch, not forceful as it seems to some.

“I know”, she whispers, “I feel the same way. It’s like I finally got what I always wanted and now it could be taken from me.” Swallowing thickly, she lets her finger fall, “Which is why I’m not going to be a useless fairy in hiding.”

“What do you need me to do?” Sky manages a smile, his hands intertwining with hers as he brings her closer. He bends ever so slightly, lips parted and it doesn’t take long for her to stand on her tiptoes, eliminating the distance between them as their lips meet. 

Their souls have mated long before they felt the hurricane of emotions that connected them to one another.

Parting, breathless, Y/N couldn’t suppress a smile as Sky rested his forehead on hers, their noses brushing, lips just a whisper apart.

“This is exactly what I needed.” Drawing a deep breath, she steps back with a loving smile on her lips, “Stay inside.”

“Wait”, Sky exclaims as she rushes after Bloom who nods her way and before he knows it, the girls vanish into thin air.

Gripping his head, Sky feels panic rise in his chest, breathing becoming a chore.

“SKY?!” Riven pulls him back by the elbow, “Focus! These things are about to break in!”

“I never got to tell her”, Sky breathes out. She said she knows, but he wanted to say it. He needed to say it.

“Tell her what?” Riven frowns, unsure what’s gotten Sky so rattled.

“That I love her.”

While Sky was trying to find a way to stay alive long enough to tell Y/N how he feels, she was far too busy trying to save everyone else.

“We will have to channel more magic that ever before”, Bloom warns her and Y/N nods. 

“I have no trouble channeling world destroying magic. That’s what scares me.” Glancing at Alfea, Y/N felt her heart sink with the thought of Sky being inside. “Are you sure those things are following you?”

Nodding, Bloom takes her hand, “We can do this.” But even Bloom didn’t know the true extent of Y/N’s power. No one did. Sky had an idea, but he had never seen the damage she could cause.

“They’re coming”, Stella warns and Y/N looks to her with understanding. 

“I can do this”, Bloom whispers as she tries to make a spark, but nothing happens.

“Where’s the fire, Bloom?” Y/N steps back, her voice panicky. She looks around only to see dark figures running at full speed toward them and Bloom still had not created so much as a simple flame.

“Bloom?!” Y/N calls out to her, beginning to shake.

“it’s not working!” Bloom shouts and that’s when Y/N realizes it’s up to her. It isn’t to save her own life, but the very important life inside the school. She can’t fail, not when the consequence would be so dire.

Drawing a deep breath, she closes her eyes. Her mouth is filled with the coppery tang of blood, and it feels like ice is rushing through her veins. She groans as her vision shifts and the world erupts with colors. At first, it hurts, but then she’s suddenly filled with confidence and power. The ice freezes her insides, the colors burn brighter as she curls her fingers up.

In seconds, the water fountain behind her had frozen into spikes. Exhaling, her breath visible in the sudden cold, Y/N felt herself rising along with the frozen spikes she moved to her side. The ice surrounds her, a blue-white light encasing her as her eyes glow ocean blue. 

Y/N grew her wings as waves of silk, effortlessly so, and she felt like she'd won her freedom, won the trust of mother nature. While the wings seem as soft as petals, Bloom soon realizes Y/N’s wings are a weapon as they direct the icy spikes toward the Burned Ones, making them fall one by one. 

It’s as if it isn’t Y/N anymore, but a vengeful angel possessed by the need to protect innocents from the demons that came looking for blood.

Each spike finds it’s mark, each of them laying on the frosty grass. And as the last one falls, Y/N’s glow intensifies. Her skin is pale, sparkling in the moonlight. her eyes are cold, still glowing as if she can’t turn it off and her wings, they flutter as if they could blow the arctic winds down upon the world.

“Holy shit”, Bloom gasps as she stumbles back. 

“It’s okay, Y/N!” Stella tries, “You can come down and rest now.”

“I can’t”, Y/N whispers under her breath. She tried, but it felt impossible to stop it. It’s as if the ice had frozen her heart over, the source of all that’s good - of control.

Looking at her softly glowing hands, she swallows thickly. She’s still above the ground, painfully aware she has wings - the very wings fairies aren’t supposed to have anymore. The brightly colorful world is just as intense, just as difficult to take as when it first appeared. 

“Princess?!”

And that’s when she hears the shaky, loving voice of the one she’s been trying to protect.

“Sky?” She croaks, tears brimming her eyes.

“Come back to me.” Sky holds up his arm, hand open for Y/N to take. He can see she’s lost, scared even. 

“I don’t know how”, she admits. He’s the light in her darkness, her compass, if he can’t help her, no one can.

“I believe in you.” Sky wets his quivering lips, “I love you, Y/N. I need you.”

Releasing a heavy sigh, Y/N nods, closing her eyes. She focuses on her heartbeat that’s like an echo, a distant reminder she is a living, breathing creature. 

When she opens her eyes, she finds her hand almost touching Sky’s. 

He reaches for her, bringing her down to his embrace and she shivers violently as the warm glow around her dies down instantly. 

“Hold onto me”, Sky whispers, running his hands up and down her back to warm her up. “Hold onto me, you’re all I have”, he repeats as he picks her up in his arms. 

She rests her head on his chest, curled up in the safety of his arms. No matter what, she knew she’d be safe with him. “I love you too”, she says softly before falling asleep from exhaustion the magic used caused. 

And while Sky and Y/N spent the night in each other’s arms, the rest of the school was finally made aware of all the secrets Y/N tried to hide - her royal status and the unimaginable power she yields.

It certainly looked like Solaria will soon be second strongest kingdom, because when Y/N takes the throne she’s entitled to - and with prince Sky by her side, their power, their union would be unmatched.

Part 3 

#sky x reader #sky imagine #sky fate winx saga #fate the winx saga #sky of eraklyon #winx sky #sky of eraklyon x reader

[robininthelabyrinth]

For prompts, I'd really like to see your take on Wei Wuxian being summoned back by Qin Su instead of Mo Xuanyu. It's an idea I've only seen done once very briefly, and I've wanted to see more of it since.

Untamed verse

Being summoned back to replace a woman was, while odd, not the biggest problem in Wei Wuxian’s life.

The women’s clothing he could deal with, thanks to some very specific dares in his youth due to hanging out with Nie Huaisang, that deviant; the make-up was something he had helped Jiang Yanli out with before; and the hair...

Whatever. His maids would live with his hair done up a little more casually than they might have expected.

No, the biggest problem was that he was masquerading as the wife of Lianfeng-zun, Chief Cultivator. And that actually wouldn’t be so much of a problem, except that said Chief Cultivator was apparently an absolute psychopath with a collection of grisly trophies that said wife had apparently found right before deciding to end her life in favor of revenge.

Revenge which Wei Wuxian was massively underqualified to undertake.

Demonic cultivation or not, he’d probably need an army to undertake it, she wanted him to kill the Chief Cultivator, but if he didn’t do it, his soul would be forfeit.

Great.

“I need help,” he decided.

Qin Su, as his summoner was apparently called, was very fond of veils, which Wei Wuxian now greatly appreciated as a fine trait in a woman, and had a low voice, which he also appreciated; no one questioned it when he asked for ink and paper for correspondence. Something he was allowed, apparently, unlike the ability to leave – that had been the first thing he’d tried, of course. 

Unfortunately, Qin Su had apparently lost a son (her husband had killed her son, to be clear, there’d been evidence aplenty in the treasure room Wei Wuxian had woken up in, and honestly the “summon an evil spirit for vengeance” thing would be totally understandable if she hadn’t chosen to summon him) and she’d taken it sufficient badly in public, or was said to have, that her husband had decided to restrict her to the inside of Koi Tower out of fear for her safety, and to enforce the restriction with guards.

Fucking psychopath. 

Wei Wuxian sat in front of the paper and stared at it.

The simple fact of the matter was, he had been dead for sixteen years.

Wen Ning, who’d been his right hand, had died before he had, and resentful energy, while still available (and how, that treasure room was reeking with it), was no substitute for a person. The cultivation world had turned against him, leaving him without friends or allies to call on...was there someone who he might try to write to? Someone who would  still answer his request if absolutely need be? And if so, who was it? 

The Jin sect belonged to Lianfeng-zun, who he was trying to escape, and he had no idea if Jin Ling had survived the man’s apparently bloody reign since there was neither hide nor hair of a fifteen year old anywhere he could see. The Nie sect had once been reliable, always determined to destroy evil and enact justice, but Nie Mingjue was dead (a fact Wei Wuxian became aware of once he found that his head was in the treasure room sans body) and who knew the state of the sect now - especially since if he remembered correctly, Nie Huaisang had been fairly close to Meng Yao before he became Jin Guangyao, and might be close to him still. No, asking him was too much of a risk.  

The Lan sect…  

Lan Wangji would believe him, he thought. Lan Wangji had believed in him back then, and tried to help him, even at the end of it all. But it was Lan Xichen who was the sect leader, not Lan Wangji, and Lianfeng-zun was Lan Xichen’s sworn brother. Who could tell which of the two Jades of Lan would receive his letter?

No.

There was only one option.

Wei Wuxian took a deep breath beneath his veil, closed his eyes for a moment to gather strength, and wrote –

Jiang Cheng, I need your help.

-

“Why are we rushing?” Jin Ling complained, though he looked more bemused than anything else. “Jiujiu, you don’t even like to go to Koi Tower, you never go to Koi Tower –”

“I go twice a year and you know it,” Jiang Cheng snapped, his fingers still tightly clutching the letter that had been delivered by urgent post.

“Yes, twice a year, the absolute bare minimum you have to visit,” Jin Ling said. He wasn’t wrong, either. “Who’s the letter from?”

“I already told you, it’s from Madame Jin.”

“I didn’t realize you were serious,” Jin Ling said. “I’ve never known you to be close to her. Just – tell me this isn’t like the Mo Xuanyu thing, okay? She’s pretty, sure, but she’s not that pretty…”

“Mo Xuanyu?” Jiang Cheng asked, only half paying attention. They were almost there. Soon, he’d know the truth, he’d know if – but how could it be anything but the truth? Who else would know to use those old codes, the ones they came up with as children, giggling together in their rooms at the Lotus Pier? No one yet living could know them, only him –

Soon.

“You know, my uncle, the weird one – turns out he was a pervert that became fixated on Madame Jin –”

“What does that have to do with me...” Jiang Cheng trailed off and turned to glare. “Don’t be absurd!”

Jin Ling didn’t have the courtesy to look abashed. “I was just checking –”

They walked in through the doors of the Fragrant Palace. Qin Su was seated in her normal place, delicate as a flower in a dress of pale rose and a dusty veil hung over her face with a diadem, matching earrings, everything a proper noble lady should be, and at first Jiang Cheng thought that he must have been mistaken, hallucinating, something –

And then she turns to look at him and above the veil he saw those eyes and he knew.

-

“I’ll write to Lan Wangji once we’re back at the Lotus Pier,” Jiang Cheng said.

“Good idea,” the carpet they were currently smuggling out of Lanling said. “Lan Zhan will definitely help! I just couldn’t guarantee he’d come for Qin Su, you understand…”

“It’s a good thing you didn’t,” Jin Ling said, kicking his heels. He’d had rather a nasty shock, finding out firstly that Wei Wuxian had been summoned back, secondly that it was his aunt that had done the summoning, thirdly that she’d done it to stop his little uncle, who was apparently evil, and lastly that his beloved jiujiu was responding to Wei Wuxian’s return by helping him rather than killing him – but he was young and recovered easily from shock, and by now he was more caught up in the drama and adventure of it all. “Hanguang-jun never comes to Lanling. Not once.”

“That’s true,” Jiang Cheng said. “Not even for discussion conferences. It would have been noticed.”

“Why? Does he know about Lianfeng-zun –”

“No, he would have said something, he’s stupidly righteous like that,” Jiang Cheng said. “It was because of you, you idiot.”

“…oh.”

“Why does no one ever tell me these things?” Jin Ling complained.

-

“Why did you come help me, Jiang Cheng?” Wei Wuxian asked much later. “You didn’t ask any questions, you didn’t doubt, you just – you hate me. For what I did at the Nightless City, to shijie, for abandoning you…I know you hate me. Why did you come?”

“You asked.”

#mdzs #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #jin ling #my fic #my fics #echodoctor

[yandere-romanticaa]

I'm shook that my Akame ga Kill! works got notes, especially the ones about Run... So, I'm gonna write for him again because I can! This is totally NOT self indulgent, nope, that does not exist here, noooope!

𝕋𝕠𝕠 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖, 𝕥𝕠𝕠 𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕖.

The bitter cold of the forest did nothing to deter the young man's determination to return to the capital safe and sound. Clutching a small ring box in his left hand Run couldn't help but to smile as he looked up at the night sky. He felt unstoppable at that moment, it felt as though the moon itself had just blessed him and that the stars were cheering him on, to finally pop the question. He was certain that his love would say yes, he was certain that the moment this horrid empire fell into ruin that he could finally find true happiness and peace.

And it would all start with the one who owned his heart. Through the day and even deeper into the night would his heart soar at the thought of his darling little dove waiting for him back home.

Home.

That word used to feel unfamiliar on his lips but once his they found their place on those of his love, only then did he feel his world stop. Only then, and only then, could he call himself a free man, free from his dark past, free from the vengeance he so desperately craved, free from the endless river of blood that was on his hands. Even with his imperial arms that granted him the ability to fly high up into the sky like a mighty hawk, he was still a predator. He would hunt and claw down his enemies, following the instructions of his commander like a good soldier ought to. Run was a good man, even with the blood of the world's greatest scum on his hands. That was precisely why he has to protect his love, that was why he had to fight so hard. He had to stay alive, if not for himself then for his love who waited for him to return. Who knows how many hours of sleep they had lost waiting for him to return, how much blood, sweat and tears they spilt just to see him in the palace. Run felt awful for putting his beloved through this kind of torture but it was all going to be so worth it in the end. The day in which they could finally be together was so close, he could feel it.

Soft footsteps rang quietly throughout the quiet street, starkly contrasting the furious pats that followed closely behind Run. With a cheerful smile on his face his golden eyes softened even more at the sight of his comrades approaching him. He had asked Wave and Kurome earlier to keep and eye out for (y/n) and to report back to him immediately when he came back from his mission. Thinking that was the case he called out to them as he raised his arm into the air in order to greet them properly. He just could not help himself anymore, the pure joy that was consuming his heart was too much to handle. It felt like sparks were going off in his chest, a whole new feeling of adoration was consuming him like the sweetest drug there ever was. As the pair came closer and closer towards him, Run began to notice a few odd details. The distressed look on Kurome's face, the angry tears that were flowing down Wave's face, his distressed and heavy breathing impossible ignore on this otherwise tranquil night. His choked sobs made Run's eyes go wild as he scanned them both, finally spotting the dry and crusty blood on their clothing. Finally face to face, the trio went deadly silent as Wave continued to shed tears like a heartbroken child.

"What's the matter Wave, what is going on? Where is everyone, why do you have blood on you?!" Run broke the short lived silence as he asked various questions that plauged him at the moment. Reaching out towards his friends shoulder, Run tried to comfort him. He was instead met with a harsh slap with Wave's hand, his gaze focused on the ground beneath him as he bit his lips in order to contain his screams of regret. Distressed, Run looked at Kurome's blank face but there was a glint of sorrow and sympathy in those ebony eyes of hers. In her left hand she held a small hair tie, a tie Run had given to his darling mere days ago before his trip. Said tie was covered from bottom to top with dried up blood, a few strands of hair still clinging desperately on it as the wind suddenly picked up the pace. Quiet apologies and choked out crie scould be heard from Wave as he continued to stare at his boots, the blood from his chewed up lips coating his skin like crimson paint. Taking a deep breath, Kurome finally explained the situation to Run in the calmest manner she possibly could at that moment.

There was a sudden breach in the palace, it was either Night Raid or some bandits they were searching for, they weren't quite sure. The scuffle soon turned out into a fullscale battle and there was a high number of casualties. She showed the hair tie into Run's hands, indicating everything.

His heart stopped beating but for all the wrong reasons this time.

The clear sky was now grey, the dark clouds murking his vision. He couldn't tell whether or not it was the rain itself or his own tears, he really couldn't. Growing weak in his knees, Run tried to hard to keep his composure and his pain at bay. It felt as though he was being covered in ice at that exact moment, the excruciating pain overflowing his soul as his lips silently quivered.

He broke his own promise.

The one person he needed the most in the world was gone, just like that.

He wondered if the gods themselves were mourning along with him at that exact moment. The harsh rain seemed to be proof of that. Closing his eyes, he had finally realized that he could never be happy. Such a thing was not possible for a man like him, a man who had done so much, and yet so little. He was going to keep one end of his promise though - he was going to live for his revenge. If he cannot have his love then so be it. He was going to do what he set out to do to begin with.

That stone cold determination did little to soothe his aching heart at that moment but it was his best possible option for him.

Live, love, die. That was the law of the land. It was a law that he despised with his very being. What a pity that the land did not care for his feelings at that moment. It took what it wanted, whenever it wanted. And as retaliation, he was going to steal fire back everything tine times stronger than before.

#i really love him okay.... #I can't explain why #yandere #yancore #yanderecore #yandere aesthetic #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #aesthetic #yandere akame ga kill #yandere akame ga kill x reader #akame ga kill x reader #akame ga kill #yandere run #akame ga kill run #yandere run x reader

[avenger09]

Dragon Prince/Marvel Mashup

Just a an idea I had about the characters from the Dragon Prince in the Marvel universe, and how the roles would change.

Callum Parker/Spider-Man

When Callum was bitten by a strange spider, he soon discovered he had gained the amazing abilities of a spider.

Remembering how he lost his mother at a young age and wanted to live up to her selfless example without endangering his remaining family, he donned a masked costume and gadgets fasioned from materials salvaged from around his stepdads company to help others. Little did he know his life was about to get even more complicated.

(I figured that since Callum already endured tragedy he would step into the role of Spider-Man much sooner then Peter did)

Ezran/Future Spider-Man

Though a wise and caring soul, the prestige of being the son of a important industialist like Harrow, made it hard for him to make friends beyond outside of his family and Dr. Virans children, Claudia and Soren, and the mounting pressures of knowing of the power he will one day have, make him long for a normal simple childhood but he understands none the less thanks to a lesson taught to his brother by their late mother, that with great power comes great responsibility, so he's determined to have it when that power comes. But it won't just be as a CEO.

(Since PS4 Spider-Man had both Miles and Peter working together, practically like brother, this just made sense)

Rayla/Moonshadow

Protégé of the infamous vigilante Runaan, the Moonknight who she had studied under for years. She was a savant when it came to agility and melee combat but when it came time to implement his kind of justice while infiltrating a company he suspected of illicit dealings she couldn't bring herself to kill a unfortunate security guard who happened upon them, blowing the mission.

Now on her own and somewhat lost about her direction in life, but still ingrained with a desire to fight injustice, she took upon a mission of her own to guard the city from the criminal underworld, eventually crossing paths with Spider-Man, who after a brief confrontation over methods, became fast friends, and in time realizing they both felt somthing more for the other.

(Think a more heroic Black Cat but with knives)

Viren/Grey Goblin

One of Katlolinustries greatest scientific minds with an unfortunate tendacy to cut corners, morality wise, to achive results to the dismay of his boss and best friend Harrow who felt his "creative solutions" causdd more problems than they solved. Desperate to prove to Harrow, and himself, the merits of his questionable research into a chemical performance enhancer, and beat out the companies competitors, he recklessly tested it on himself.

The result was a stronger and faster body but also a deranged split personality called; The Grey Goblin who equipped with corrupted innovations of his began targeting Katolindustires compition and Virans persoanl rivals and becoming the arch enemy of heroes everwhere.

(I was originally going to make him fulfill the role of the Lizard, being a teacher of Callums but then I remembered who else liked to talk to sinister people in mirrors)

Harrow/Iron Man

Head of Katolindustries and secretly the superhero Iron-Man.

After the tragic loss of his beloved wife Sarai, Harrow became obsessed with taken revenge on those who had taken her from him and their sons, having company make weapons to be used against them, but as ths years past he came to regret his vendetta as he saw his inventions fall into the wrong hands too often.

Determined to make amends he stopped all weapon research despite the protests of his friend Dr. Viran but feeling it wasnt enough after seeing the harm done first hand he secretly built a suit of advanced armour to combat the many villains in the world, equipped with the a helpful AI named the "Programmed Interactive Personality" or P.I.P.

Ironically he would not be the only member of his family to become a superhero.

(Honestly, who else could he be?)

---

Thats all I've got so far, but I definetly think Claudia would be their Scarlet Witch (Onyx Witch.) equivalent, Soren a cross between Flash Thompson and Harry Osborne, Lujanne the Sorceress Supreme, (making Aaravos the Baron Mordo) Nyx is the Vulture, Aanya would be their Cpt. America, (with Gren and Corvus as her Bucky and Falcon) and Janai would be the Gold Panther.

#the dragon prince #Marvel #crossover #Rayla #Callum #Viren #spider man #green goblin #Black Cat #Superheroes #Fantasy #King Harrow #iron man #Netflix

[skelanonymous]

Killermare/Nightkiller - Soul Mates

Hey! I finished the prompt person who made a request like a month ago! I literally do not want to even look at this anymore. I’ve been picking away at it all month between shifts and breaks and I’m beginning to hate it by virtue of seeing it too much. 

The beginning has been edited and now has some nsfw soul-mating and some after effect scenes!

Words: 6.1K

-

“Are you sure you want this? With me?” Nightmare wouldn’t meet Killer’s eyes. He stood in front of one of his room’s many arched windows, moonlight shimmering over his blackened form. His tentacles had curled in on him, arms crossed, an uncharacteristic sign of vulnerability that Killer had only seen inside of this room.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Killer, too, let his eternally present grin fall. This matter meant too much, and Nightmare’s insecurity fell heavily on him, on them. 

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“I have an idea, but I want to hear the specifics. ‘s important.” Killer crossed his own arms to match, to hold back the urge to touch his moon until he finished his thoughts.

“Soul mating is to share all that you are with another.” Nightmare turned to face out over the darkened wilds his castle oversaw. “It’s to be unified on every level and live as one until we cease to be. I am not afraid of being unified with you myself; I have centuries of existence and a power to shake the multiverse, and while I’m certain that I will be affected by you, as I am even now when we’re separate, I am also sure of my ability to handle it as I have everything else.”

“It’s me you don’t trust to deal.” Killer sighed, frown downturning further. Nightmare whirled around in an instant.

“I trust you with my life Killer.” He hurried across the room to hold his beloved’s face, a concerned eye looking into Killer’s, begging him to understand. “I would not humor this for anyone else, I would not want this with anyone else. To be joined with you is a dream I wish for. But…” His thumbs wiped away the streaks of liquid hate on Killer’s face. “To be joined to me is my namesake. You will know misery on a level you have never known.”

Killer reached up to hold Nightmare’s hands. He smiled with a short laugh.

“I think I’ve known some pretty deep fucking misery Night.” Killer let go to reach out for Nightmare’s jacket, pulling him closer. “I’m not fragile. You worry too much. ‘Sleeping near me might give you nightmares’ and ‘if I lose control during sex, I could hurt you’ and, my favorite, ‘I am the guardian of negativity, I cannot love you back.’ Yet we’re here.” He took a nice deep breath, sinking into the comfort that was Nightmare pressed to his chest. Nightmare’s fingers clutched at his back.

“Not like this Killer, never like this.” Cyan tears welled up, hands vice gripped onto his hoodie. “I am not minimizing your suffering, I have felt it firsthand, but mine is long and continuous. It bores into your soul and lives there. You mention that I have always worried and you have overcome, but yet, I still worry. Negativity is at the root of me.”

His tentacles reached out like more arms. The fear was palpable, flavoring the air and thick on their tongues. Nightmare could never forsake what he was. He could not undo what had been done.

“And to join you with that? I’m afraid of what this could do to you. Will you gain my corruption? Will I lose you like I lost myself for all those years? How much of you must be traded for us to experience this pinnacle of connection?” Night’s words flooded from his mouth, crying bitterly at the thought of turning Killer away, all for his sake. “Every single thing others can have, I must first pay a cost. To just exist without punishment cost my life, my home, my family. And even then, I did not escape punishment, I merely gained the ability to fight back!”

“Nightlight…look at me.” And he listened. Killer tapped his teeth to his.

“Killer…” Nightmare tapped back, kissing him deeply with wet cheeks. The tension of the room could be cut with a knife, Killer could feel it in the line of Night’s back, and he knew how to work that out. When they broke apart, Killer didn’t move back an inch.

“Remember when you confessed?” His voice rough and heavy against Night’s teeth, Killer’s eyes went half lidded. “You looked so shocked, like you couldn’t believe it.”

“I still don’t.” Nightmare’s voice dropped low, shaky but wanting.

“Moon, are you happy, being with me?” Night’s tentacles clutched him tight, Nightmare pressing up tight to him with another kiss, their faces still millimeters apart.

“Of course. Idiot...” His eye glanced wistfully at the bookshelves on the wall, expression serious and hesitant. Killer chuckled softly at the worry. He wiped his god’s tears away.

“Then why couldn’t I be happy joined with you?” Night’s body sparked with magic underneath his fingertips. “If even the god of negativity can be happy with the one he loves, why couldn’t I do the same with a piece of him living in my soul?” Killer licked his teeth, tongue touching his moon’s at this distance, groaning at the catch in Nightmare’s breath.

“You could.”

Killer crushed Night up against him, the smaller hands fisting in the loose blue hoodie in their passion. Kissing Nightmare always got his motor running. His dark tentacles sought out every surface to lavish attention on Killer’s body, three times the stimulation of any other partner and a hell of a lot more interesting.

“Let me have ya then.” His pointer finger slid down the black cheek, catching softly on his jaw, over his sensitive throat, and leaving a hot trail of need down his sternum before halting. Right over Night’s soul. “Mate with me Moon.”

Night reached out slowly for Killer’s soul, always within reach but rarely so bright, tapping the surface with a fond smile. Killer felt the weight of his words resonate across his being.

“Promise I won’t lose you?” Killer grinned widely.

“Promise.” The tenseness dropped from Night’s back, arms slung around Killer’s shoulders with a more confident look.

“Then take me Killer.”

Killer had a slight height advantage, but Night made up for it with vigor. The black fingers pulled at the hoodie, growling when Killer laughed at him for its slow removal.

“My soul’s not inside my ribcage Moonlight. Did ya forget?” He chuckled until Nightmare pulled their faces together again, groaning into Night’s mouth, tasting and teasing the cyan tongue until he felt Night’s fingers loosen. He took the opportunity to run a phalange up from Night’s back to his sternum, tracing a rib. Night broke off to shiver.

“Are you trying to rush?” Nightmare traced the outer edge of the target shaped soul. It snapped into a heart shape for the second go around. “There you are.”

“I just like when ya touch me.” Killer winked, grinding up against Night’s pelvis. Night bucked against the bulge in front of him. He kept rubbing the tiny heart in his hands while Killer nuzzled into his throat to nip and lick at the sensitive vertebrae there. “Fucking delicious. Can’t wait to have ya.” Killer took a deep breath in, lost in the scent of Nightmare. 

Night didn’t respond, only kissed the soul in his hands, trying to impart what he couldn’t say. I’m the lucky one. That you want me, it matters more than anything else. 

Killer’s mouth licked haphazardly. The warm buzz of emotion from Night seeped into his body, unfurling the little anxieties building in the peripheral of their relationship. Killer put on a grandiose show, playing the part of the cocky bastard to his moon’s calm stoic, but Nightmare very rarely opened up this far. His moon cried less than Killer had fingers on one hand. He spoke seldomly about the past in anything but factual recounts. The fact he’d been so honest, that he could feel that pure emotion through the contact, put him in a drunken euphoria. 

“Moooooon, you’re wearing too many clothes.” He pushed the hoodie off Night’s shoulders, caught on his elbows. “Come to the bed.” Killer slid his hands up to hold Night’s hands, soul dropped and returned to its place.

Killer led him towards the bed, but let him go with a sly grin. He stripped off his shirt with a twirl, revealing his ribs with hungry eyes, dropping his shorts in the next moment to persuade his love to do the same.

“Eager, are you?” Nightmare’s voice betrayed nothing, but the slow shrug off of his sweater spoke volumes.

“Already missing that touch of yours.” He gestured to his soul. “I could get off from just that.”

A peace offering, a way to back out, to build to this piece by piece. Night stepped closer to his love leaned back on the bed.

With a determined eye, he skimmed over the bulge of Killer’s cock, meeting Killer’s captivated gaze with ferocity. He only broke it to remove his suffocating shirt.

“Ignoring my needs? What type of mate do you plan to be?” Killer’s eyelights popped into existence while Nightmare seated himself on his lap. “I thought you said you’d never disappoint me…” He almost fell off when Killer sat up to meet him, smashing their teeth together.

Killer dove in, not leaving room for Nightmare to fight back, overwhelming his small lover with how much he could explore with his eyes closed. They were both pantless by the time Nightmare’s senses returned, breathless but alive with energy.

“If you’re feeling needy, we’ll focus on you then.” Nightmare had no ecto formed yet, Killer instead reaching up into his chest for the dark apple soul he’d never been allowed to touch. His hand hesitated before tapping the blackened surface. “Last chance Nightmare.” And when all he got was silence, he took it out and held it up to his face.

Unlike his own soul, the black apple sat calmly in his hand. It had little give, the dark peel a thin barrier to protect it from the outside world, everlasting and unbroken until this very moment.

“Didn’t expect that.” Killer ran his thumbs over the surface, testing the limits of the shell and Night in one swoop. His moon sat unaffected except by a blush.

“I’m sorry it’s not what you expected.” He could read Night’s hesitation in his body language, but not from the soul seated in his hands, its aura as calm on the exterior as its owner. He wanted in. Killer gently bit down on the apple, not wanting to go clean through, but maybe create a little breach. When Night didn’t react, he bit down harder. His ectobody formed instantly, boosting him up on Killer’s lap.

“OooooooH!” He broke the skin, a small cut through the outer barrier. Night hadn’t ripped it away yet, so Killer turned it over until he could work his tongue into the hole.

“KiLLeR.” Night’s thighs tightened on his legs, hips bucking down wantonly while his cyan tongue lolled out of his mouth. Killer kept working and tasting, getting deeper and deeper into the soul. “STARS, Killer, please. Fuck me!”

Tentacles curled up every limb stroking and teasing. They sought out Killer like a moth to the flame, knowing who was pleasing their master, eager to return the favor. Killer appreciated their caress, but focused in on the torrent of emotion pouring into his mouth from the apple. Night’s composure seldom broke outside of the bedroom, and even here, he was not driven to utmost debauchery, often just more openly honest about his desires. Licking directly into his core, Killer could taste how much Night was holding back. He sucked out some of the wet flavor with a slurp.

“God ya want this so bad. Good, me too.” Killer worked two fingers into the break to Night’s wrecked gasps. “My soul can’t fit in here love. Gunna have to make room for me inside ya.” 

“I need you inside me, right now.” Night’s tentacles readjusted them quickly for his red cock to slide up and down Night’s already wet folds. “I love you, connect with me, I’ve got so much room for you…” Killer heard the wet squelch of Night stretching himself open with a tentacle in preparation, making his cock twitch in anticipation. He forced his tongue in around the three fingers he’d worked into Night’s soul. His reward was instantaneous. 

“AAH!” Night’s knees knocked on his waist, his eye wide and hazy, which Killer took advantage of by pulling Night further onto him and starting to sink into his soaked pussy along with the slicked tentacle still stuffed inside. 

“Oh FUCK!” Night’s cyan eye rolled into his skull, trembling apart at the seams. “T-they fit?”

“They sure do.” Killer pulled his soul up to the opening in Night’s. “You ready for the second squeeze?” He flexed his hips making Nightmare scream.

“Stuff me full Killer, hah, please!” 

With a gentle push, his soul tapped against the inside of Night’s, the opening worked large enough for the entire thing to fit along it on one side. He watched fascinated. Normal soulmating, you could hold two souls together and they’d combine, no work required but the desire to do so, but he had to try at getting his moon open enough to reach the savory core. They sat against each other for an instant, Killer anxious if he’d gone about it wrong and Night if he could even do this at all, before Killer’s entire soul slid directly inside, combining them in a flash of color.

The red apple hung between them pleasantly. Killer’s eyelights glowed bright as Night’s went deep purple.

“Moon?” The words echoed in his mind, though it felt like he spoke them. He didn’t need to say anything, Night was him and he was Night, but his sudden desire to hear Nightmare overrode logic.

“My darling soul.” Hands rested on his face. Night’s locked eyes with his, faces moving closer, but even an inch felt too far. It was slow deliberate love, that first kiss, the taste of their soulmate for the very first time.

But then Night shifted to get a little closer and the thickness inside him sparked the desire.

That spark quickly caught, burning through both of them with the intensity of sun, each thought echoing between their souls, escalating to a constant hum that drowned out the rest. Night slid forward to take Killer and his own appendage to the hilt. Killer moaned loudly before pulling Night up to his chest with a desperate kiss. He could barely get out any words.

“I love you.” It slurred from his teeth, feeling the tentacle inside of Night curl around his cock to make it stretch out Night wider. “You’ve got my soul inside yours, ya shouldn’t mind if I fill ya with my cum right?” He thrusted experimentally; Night wailed and slid down to meet his hips. His purple blush complimented the wrecked expression, staring into Killer’s eyes like a lifeline, before nodding with a broken moan. “Fuck you’re perfect.”

He started slow. Night winced at the end of the thrusts and Killer wasn’t so far gone as to not notice; to the contrary, he had never been more aware of his moon. The sound of his voice breaking on Killer’s name a symphony, the taste of his love’s tongue a banquet, all his senses awakened at the sight of his gorgeous soulmate. And through the bond, he could feel Night’s agreement.

“Please, please, please!” Oversensitive and at the emotional limit, Killer could feel his peak rapidly approaching, speeding up to slam into Night, clapping their ecto together between lewd pants and groans. He dropped his sweaty head against Night’s shoulder.

“God Night, come for me!” Night’s pussy clamped down tight with his orgasm. Killer rode it to his own finish.

“Fuck!” 

He slow thrusted through it, filling up Night with his red magic, sliding against each other with pleasant bonelessness. They fell back onto the bed in their embrace.

“Killer…”Night’s head rested on his chest, one hand rubbing over where he could see Killer’s cum inside himself. Killer felt tears drip onto his ribcage.

“Nightlight?” He cradled Night’s head. He held him tight, Night nuzzling his chest with the rarest of expressions.

“Thank you.” The genuine smile, soft and sweet, hit Killer right in their combined souls, overcome with their combined joy. He had it so bad. They readjusted to separate, sharing soft continuous kisses, settling into the blankets with unmatched contentment.

“We look pretty good together.” He stroked a finger over the red apple, both trembling with a soft sigh. “Can’t get rid of me now. No take-backs.”

“I can think of no better partner for eternity.” And that deep honesty flustered Killer. He hoped he’d get to see more of this side of his beloved moon now that they were one. Being one in all forms had unlocked more of himself than had existed before, parts he would adopt from Night starting to click in as extensions of his soul. Something dark ate at the back of Killer’s mind, but combined like this, it was held at bay effortlessly by Night’s calm thoughts and breathing.

“Let’s get some rest Nightlight. We have the rest of our lives tomorrow.” He pulled up a sheet to cover them, and placed one last kiss on Night’s teeth. 

“That we do.” With their combined souls hanging between them, they slipped in restful sleep. 

-

Killer woke up late. Looking around, he realized he’d been moved from Night’s bedroom to the study. He sat up (appropriately though not fully dressed) on the lounge that Nightmare had scooted closer to his desk.

“Good afternoon. How are you feeling?” Killer felt strangely apprehensive before realizing that the feeling wasn’t centered in his body. The immediacy lessoned the longer he thought about it, though the intensity of that wariness kept ratcheting up while he tried to speak.

“Is that you?” The sudden break in relief caused emotional whiplash and a spike of discomfort.

“Yes. My apologies, I wasn’t reigning in my reactions.” The normal calm came back, with a background fluttering of too many emotions to name. “It should be more manageable now.”

“Wow, I must be bothering the fuck outta you.” He laughed at the tinges of worry, indignation, and relief in turn. A glance at his own chest revealed only his own soul. They’d separated when sleeping it appeared.

“Always.” 

“Wow, this is what you’re actually feeling?” Each emotion felt so distinct and different, the deep fondness manifesting as a touch to the cheek and a soft smile, the yearning a waltz across a marble floor, remaining a respectable distance but waiting for a moment alone to close the distance. So caught in this tide, he didn’t notice the tentacle resting along his back.

“Yes. I hope you could see through the sarcasm beforehand. But focus for a moment.” The appendage slid up his spine, Killer shivering. “I’m syphoning my power out of you by force, but once I break contact, you will be hit with whatever my corruption has done to you.”

“Still worried?” Killer grinned with a tilt of his head, shit eating smile not calming Night in the slightest.

“I didn’t want you to wake up in whatever state this will put you in. There’s a difference from knowing it’s coming to waking up overwhelmed.” Killer rolled his shoulders to ready up, taking a few breaths before nodding confidently. 

“Hit me with it Nightlight.” 

The instant the words left his mouth, the weight of the corruption fell on his back. He gasped, choking on the weight of the atmosphere, hate spilling out of his eyes. His soul pulsed heavily, weighted and overwhelming, drowning in a pit of self-loathing and anger that he almost couldn’t see through. 

He fell off something. His hands scrambled along the floor, colliding with something that Killer clawed at until he was sat up again.

He trembled violently, bones clattering against his leverage. Sounded familiar though. Where had he heard it before? He focused on the sound to anchor himself in the moment, reflecting on it until the answer came to him suddenly. Nightmare’s desk, he’d had sex on enough times to remember the way wood sounded banging against bone.

Nightmare! He’d been with him before this.

Killer heaved in a few gulps of air. If he reached out with his magic, he could feel him, dark and powerful not too far away, and that helped get through the worst of the panic. The calm washed over him like soothing rain. It soaked into his joints until he laid back against the wood, completely still.

Amidst the black came a single bright ping of light. Hope lit in his chest like a lamp, illuminating his eyelights, finally able to see.

Feelings were too overwhelming to speak, but his staticky pupils stared at his moon’s face.

Nightmare forwent his usual propriety, his normally impassive face scrunched up in unease. His cyan pupil took in every movement, any motion or emotion he could see. Every tentacle hovered around him worriedly, barely restrained from touching Killer to sap the feeling away. He felt Night’s palms on his. He gripped them back with a tired grin.

He could see Nightmare trying to speak, but his ears hadn’t caught up to him yet, still roaring with the stress his body had gone through. He tugged on Nightmare’s arms, toppling the king to the ground into him. Pressed against his chest, he felt better already.

Oh look at his cute soulmate. God he loved him.

Night had been knocked down to kneeling over Killer’s collapsed form, sitting in his lap with flushed cyan cheeks, all right in reach of Killer. Night really should know who he was dealing with by now.

Killer kissed him fully, hands trailing to his shoulder joints to get his moon to huff and let him in. It felt incredible, their magic tongues sparking up pure passion between them through the bond. The fog from the shock of Night’s power was clearing, getting further and further away the more he touched his precious mate, measured in the volume of sounds finally reaching him. By the time they broke apart, Killer had his mind back enough to speak.

“I told you. You worry too much.” Killer grinned, eyes closed and amused. He nuzzled Night’s cheeks with his own. “If you think I was handsy before, you won’t be able to handle how much I want ya now.”

“You’re incorrigible.” Nightmare surged up into another kiss. The magical connection pulsed alive in their souls, swept away in the insatiable urge to be closer to each other. So enraptured that they only halted when they heard mumbling to the side.

“I’m not interrupting them Papyrus, they’ll take a break eventually…” Dust didn’t even flinch when their eyes snapped over to him.

“Didn’t take ya as a voyeur Dusty!” Killer laughed. Nightmare stood quickly, but didn’t move to take his place behind his desk.

“I suppose you’re reporting in on your latest assignment in Fellswap.” Night could compartmentalize like a pro, his face blank and unaffected in moments while Dust relayed his findings calmly. Killer had envied Night’s ability to sort away emotions and reject them, choosing to feel them instead of being overcome, but now that he had a direct link behind the facade, he found himself awed at his moon’s composure under enormous influence.

Calmed by the impromptu make out session, Killer searched inside himself for what was new.

The parts of the bond that came from Nightmare felt shiny, not like the pieces that had always been there. He could feel those rotting things from his own past had been broken in, worn to match the rest of him, unlike that which was added. Killer visualized Nightmare’s power like a tiny galaxy living in him. Dark and expansive, powerful and captivating, it crooked a finger at him to indulge in the negative in himself and in others around him. He could pull on it, indulge in the poisonous vapors, become more powerful in an instant. 

Tentacles slithered over his arms, lifting him carefully but pulling his back flush against Nightmare’s chest.

“Now where were we?” Night’s voice rumbled through the both of them. Killer stroked each appendage and licked the corner of Nightmare’s mouth.

“Almost to the good part.”

He was level 20. Right hand of the terror of the multiverse. Mated to the god of negativity. He’d killed plenty and taken what he wanted his entire life. 

Killer shut the power out of his mind. He’d take it in stride and learn to tame the damn thing. No need to throw away his sanity for more power than he already had, especially not at the cost of his moon. 

One stray hand to his pelvis and the thought was gone.

-

“How do ya deal with the cravings?” Killer’s hand clenched around his knife, breathing through his nose in metered breaths. Blood red magic ran from his mouth where he’d bitten his tongue at the last second.

“I indulge when it is safe to do so.” Night watched cautiously from the door to the training room.

“And when’s that?” Killer curled in on himself.

“Moments like right now.” 

He and Horror had been sparring, just like normal, taunting back and forth, when the corruption had reared its ugly head mid-sentence. 

“Can’t keep up? Maybe that’s why you couldn’t feed Pap-” Killer instantly ate his own words, teeth cutting clean through his tongue before Horror could do anything in retaliation. He didn’t even block the attack Horror had started. They weren’t fragile, god knows that they had tougher skin than most, but there were lines you did not cross, and Killer had sprinted straight past them without looking back. He hadn’t moved since.

“So you’re feeding off my fuckup? At least that’s something.” His shirt was wet against his sternum, stuck and soaked in the front, sticky and thick on his fingers tearing into the fabric.

Nightmare pulled down, sitting beside him on the floor. Every limb hovered over Killer’s form. Times like this, he almost detested Nightmare’s superior control, unable to see beyond that carefully neutral face and the wall Nightmare could pull between their bond with ease.

“I cannot help my nature. That doesn’t mean I wished for this.” Nightmare folded his hands in his lap, a picture of patience. “He has already forgiven you.”

“He fucking shouldn’t. I knew what the fuck saying that would do.” Killer sneered at the floor. Black dripped down to mix with the crimson staining his clothes. He was such a piece of shit, giving in like this was his first damn rodeo, like he’d never had to exert ANY fucking self control! He fell forward until his face met the floor.

“You’ve only had this power for a few weeks. It takes time.” Killer could feel his tentacles tentatively soothe him at the edges, pokes and pats soft enough to be shaken off should he decide to run. “I’m sorry.”

Killer’s eyelights flicked on at the tiny pulse of sadness. Night could hide a lot, but powerful swings couldn’t be hidden from your soulmate.

He turned over to stare at his moon. His face looked steady as always, but knowing the emotion beneath gave it away. Night met his gaze evenly, but his eye had gotten soft, rounded on the edges. If he looked closely, tension pulled Night’s arms taut, elbows pressed too hard into his lap, tiny tremors in the forearms from pushing his stress to a hidden place most wouldn’t notice. Really seeing it had Killer shuffling up to sit again.

“Moon, I don’t regret anything. I’m mad at myself but not at this.” He sought out Night’s folded hands, grasping them with his dirtied ones. “The only thing directed at you is that you still keep hiding from me.”

“It’s...a lot to handle. You already feel overwhelmed, so I…”

“I get to decide when it’s too much Nightlight. Tell me how ya really feel.” The revulsion from his actions faded away, patiently waiting for Night to let down the wall.

It dropped all at once, a dam cracked open over his psyche, Killer awash in a million emotions, many that didn’t have names but ate at him sharply. Another piece of him soaked it in, eating up all Night’s doubts and self-loathing with glee. Killer flinched.

“It feels weird as fuck to like when you’re upset.” Killer scrunched up his face. “I prefer you smilin’. Or moaning.” He gave Night a saucy wink. His reward, a light peal of laughter, lit his soul up like a glowstick. Night cupped his wet face with a soft smile.

“I’d like that too.” A chaste kiss melted the dark atmosphere away, Killer left besotted in the wave of fondness from his lovely moon. “I will always feed on the negative, but in this, I gain strength from our love too.” He hummed softly at Killer’s enamoured look. “In sickness and health, my soul.”

The kiss was warm, but not drawn out. They were still in the training room after all.

“I guess I should clean up and apologize to Horror. Even if he forgives me, don’t mean I don’t have to apologize.” Killer stretched back. With a swing of his torso, he landed on his feet. Night stood to join him, resisting the urge to take him elsewhere for soft reassurances. “See ya tonight light?” Killer stuck his tongue out.

“It isn’t optional.” Night pulled him forward with a single hand by the collar of his hoodie. “I’d hunt you down if you tried to stay away.” His seductive smile made Killer purr.

“Hunt me down then Moonbeam. I look forward to it.” The pleasant shimmer of emotion under it all warmed his bones as he walked to his room for a change of clothes. Killer caught a glimpse of the hall mirror, taking in his wrecked appearance with little concern. With each day, he owned more and more of this new darkness, and one day soon, he’d have eternity left with Night. He flexed his arms to rest them behind his head.

“Now where is Horror?”

-

“Take Horror and get the fuck out of here.” Killer swung his blade through an ink stream. It deflected off to the side, narrowly missing Dust, who had Horror up over his shoulder.

“You can’t take Ink and Cross alone idiot.” Dust had started to back towards the exit anyway. He’d save two skins over one any day.

“Don’t need to take ‘em. Boss’s on his way, just gotta run out the clock.” His grin widened as he turned back to his opponents. The liquid hate began to pour from his sockets, dripping onto the floor, starting to puddle into pitch black pools. He slid his knife under the waterfall to coat it in the black sludge. “And I’ve gotten better at taking my time.” When he stepped forward, Cross stepped back.

“What’s the matter? Don’t tell me you’re afraid.” 

“Not a bit.” Cross’s stance shifted to put his blade between them. He kept readjusting his grip on his weapon, anxiously preparing for whatever new tricks Killer had up his sleeve. “I’m not so easily shaken.” His white eye went gold.

“I don’t think that’ll make that much of a difference.” Killer flipped his knife with ease, taunting his favorite punching bag of the Stars. Internally, he checked his balance to dodge positivity arrows. “Whatcha gunna do? Stare at me?”

Cross swung confidently in a forward dash. Killer jumped out of the way.

“I’ve got positivity on my side.” Killer almost laughed, but a shot of ink missed his face by an inch. 

“And a little help!” Ink chuckled, setting himself up around the edges of Cross and Killer’s spar as inconvenient back up. Killer blocked a direct attack, focusing his energy to spread the corruption over to Cross’s blade at point of contact. The gold eyelight flickered until Cross whipped back.

“What the hell did he do to you?” Cross curved the sword to smash into the ground with a grimace. The sludge cracked and crumbled off.

“It’s better than the nothing Dream gave you.” Killer stuck out his tongue, enraging Cross into re-engaging. 

Cross hadn’t gotten much better. His stamina had increased, drastically so, but so had Killer’s, that wasn’t making the difference. Cross stepped into the sludge pool, sliding off balance. Killer pounced on the opening. The back up ink stream caught his shoulder. He growled at the shot of pain but poured that feeling into his spark, bouncing back before Cross could even react.

Even the help wasn’t making that much of a difference. Cross just wasn’t messing up as much as usual.

Cross had always left openings in his attacks, and Killer exploited them, which upset Cross, which made him fuck up more, which made him an easier target, ad naseum until he kicked his angry, self loathing ass. Looks like he’d gone and gotten with Dream to get over himself. Well mostly, because he was still fucking up, but each success powered the positivity and that weakened Killer now, even as his own worries ate at him. It was the world’s worst snowball effect. Too absorbed in his own head; he found himself backed into a wall.

“Look who’s cornered now?” Killer hated that smile on Cross. Well, he’d either have to take a scalding or a slice to get out of this. He leaned back to push out of the corner after the swing.

“Try not to get my face. Boss’ll have no eye candy at the castle.” 

“Well we can’t have that.” The sight of the tentacle gripping Cross’s knife made him swoon.

“W-what?” Cross’s eyesight dimmed back to white with Night’s touch. “How’d you get here so fast?!” Nightmare tilted his back towards Ink.

“Killer.”

“Yes Boss.” He took off towards the painter like a bolt, powered by the Night’s aura and the dread Cross eeked over the battlefield. He listened to Nightmare’s talk while easily keeping Ink busy.

“The better question, Cross, is why Dream has not come to save you. Are you just not worth saving?” He’d wrapped Cross in his tentacles, the spark of positivity being drowned out by the overwhelming panic, much tastier than normal loathing. “Did you think you could take him alone? Did you doubt that I’d come to defend what’s mine? Or is it...you can’t call him?”

“I can call him!” But no one came.

“Don’t forget who I am. I am not easily deceived.” Night’s satisfied smile drilled into Cross’s mind. “Such a pity. He mates with you but doesn’t tend to your spark. What a waste.” He tightened his hold on Cross, wincing at the tightening pressure. “Killer can call me from any corner of the world if he chooses. He can wield my gift. You were left with nothing but the promise of feeling better, while I raised my mate higher.” Night manipulated Cross to stare at him in the eyes. “Dream truly does not understand his own power, and, by extension, you.” Condescending and conceited in turns, though Killer could feel the pride beneath.

“You and Killer?” He’d barely gotten it out before his eyelights blanked.

“Not your concern.” He’d seeped most of Cross’s strength away before throwing him towards Ink disdainfully. He broke off his fight with Killer to look over at the limp offering. “I suggest you get him out of my sight. I will not spare him a second time.” Night turned away from the crumpled heap, wrecked traitor gone as soon as Ink grabbed him.

“If I said I wanted your body now, would ya hold it against me?” Killer held his arms wide open. Nightmare walked directly into them, not even waiting until Ink had fully portaled, kissing his mate fondly.

“Have I told you that you can be insufferable at times?” Killer laughed so hard he could hardly stand up straight.

“I know I’m your favorite. No need to say anything.” With a hand to guide Night on his chin, Killer angled into another kiss, soaking in the love and affection from his moon as easily as he had his worries and troubles. Nightmare rested easily between his arms, happier than Killer had ever seen and proud beyond measure of HIS soulmate.

“I love you. You are, indeed, my favorite.” He leaned into Killer’s chest. “Now, how about we go home for some preferential treatment?”

“Moon, you just read my mind.” Killer wrapped an arm around Night’s waist, sliding the other hand along his arm until he had Night’s clasped off to the side. A perfect dance pose, Night shaking his head with fake exasperation, straightening to press against him. The portal whirled open somewhere behind them. “Let’s waltz on outta here.” Night laughed.

“Lead the way Killer.”

He grinned and waltzed them right through the portal, to home.

-

Thank god, it POSTED.

#killermare #nightkiller #story time #soulmate AU