#I think my brain is just trying to protect me from the returning sense of hopelessness re: transition | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

goldenlikedayl1ght · 2 months

Text

enter sandman - m. murdock

a/n: see me personally? never seeing the pearly gates. never ever. not after this one . enjoy. feedback always appreciated ! <3 warnings: guys... where do i fucking start. SMUT. SMUT!!!! GRAPHIC PORN!!!! no plot!!!! degradation!!! dumbification!!!! praise!!!! oral!!! (m recieving) cursing!!!! nicknames!!!! reader is female and has female parts and she/her pronouns!!!!! matt is cocky, mean!dom!matt, the ending is kind of cute, lots of inappropriate use of matts senses, uhhh guys let me know if i missed any because... wow. word count: 4.2k summary: you have a hard time sleeping. the devil has a few games in mind to tire you out. pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader now playing: enter sandman - metallica "exit light/enter night/take my hand/we're off to never-never land"

You have a horrible habit. Okay, you wouldn’t really consider it to be a habit per say, but you’re not proud of it. You will for it to end.

You can never seem to fall asleep. Staying asleep is easy, but getting there is a problem. Your mind is always racing, which causes you to spiral into a whirlpool of anxieties. You’re too busy thinking about your job, or what you’ll eat tomorrow, or when you’ll be doing your next load of laundry.

But most of all, what keeps you up at night is worrying about the devil. And not in the sense that you’re a holy catholic who wants to repent for her sins, either. Your worry for the devil comes because you’re hopelessly in love with him.

And you worry that one day he will come home damaged beyond repair. Maybe one day he will not come home at all, and you’ll have to hear about it on the news the next morning. It’s a hellish existence, loving the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, but you make do.

Like tonight—You had baked brownies earlier in the night, and then read your book for the better part of the night. You won’t allow yourself to fall asleep because the possibility of seeing him overwhelms you. But as the hours pass, you begin to lose hope.

And just as you you’re beginning to accept that he won’t be coming to see you and you’re really letting yourself drift, you feel a warm hand on your neck. He’s taken his gloves off tonight. You consider yourself blessed.

“Hi,” You mumble softly, your brain going all fuzzy with even just that bit of contact. You’ve missed him. “Was beginning to think you’d never show.”

But your devil is in no mood for simple pleasantries tonight.

“What have I told you about waiting up for me?”

“Not to?”

“I said,” His hand moves from its gentle place against your neck to grip your chin, “As long as you leave the window open I’ll know to just come in and take what I need.”

Your face flushes, and he grins, because he can tell that he’s making you flustered.

“Stop laughing at me.”

“No one’s laughing at you, sweetheart.” He hums.

“You are.” He shrugs gently. He’s wearing his black suit tonight, and it’s making you feel… a lot of things.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Damn him.

“Nothing!”

He leans forward and kisses you softly, and you lean up to try and kiss him further, but he pulls away, his grip returning to your chin, to keep you just centimeters away. The devil is an expert at reading you, despite his lack of sight. He has developed the habit of studying you, and knows that as of late, you’re not allowing yourself the pleasure of sleeping. He knows it’s because you’re so anxious and worried about every little thing, so tonight.. He intends to fix it. Or at least, maybe come up with a temporary solution.

“Liar.” He whispers and moves away further. “I’m not going to touch you until you tell me.”

Your devil is many things, but he does not bluff. He has this will of steel.

“I prefer it when you wear the black suit,” You tell him, “It’s not very protective, I know. But you look good in it.”

He makes a noise of realization, before moving his hand to slip under the hem of your shirt, resting his hand on your stomach. You shiver a bit, his hand warm against your skin. That’s what you get for wearing a tee shirt and shorts to bed every night, he’d tell you.

“That’s my smart girl.” Your heart flutters. “Mm, you really like that huh?”

“You’re awful.” You always pretend to hate how he reads you, but secretly, although you suspect he knows it, you love that someone knows you so well. He grins and his hands move again, this time picking you up into his arms and carrying you to the bedroom. “Hey! Not cool, we talked about picking up when we have no warning—” You cut yourself off with a grunt when he tosses you onto the bed.

“Shut up.”

He hears no objections.

Just as quickly as you’re thrown on the bed, he is above you, mask still on, kissing your neck.

“Wanna play a game, sweetheart?” He asks, hands on your hips, his fingers creeping up the hem of your shirt. You shiver again, and he just grins “You can answer.”

“Sure. I like games.” Your voice is meek, too busy enjoying all the contact with him. He hums softly.

“I know you do, and you’re just so good at them.” You grin against his skin as he kisses your cheek. “See that? That’s what I want to know.” You’re a bit lost.

“Know what?”

“I want to know what turns you on more— praising you or degrading you.”

What a fun game to play with a human lie detector.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay, let’s play.” You confirm. He kisses you quickly.

“Good girl.” You hum softly, but it isn’t quite what he’s looking for. It’s good, don’t get him wrong, but he’s after more. “Tell me about your day, baby.” He continues to plant kisses along your skin. You know this isn’t a request but rather a requirement of the game.

“Well, I had work today, then I had to stop at the grocery store. I made dinner and—” You’re cut off by a kiss to a sensitive spot on your neck, because you can’t help but let out a gasp of pleasure.

“What? A few kisses and you’re already turning dumb for me?” You shudder softly, your heartbeat steadily increasing. The deep cadence of his voice paired with his words make you want to just melt. “Oh, there she is..”

He lets go of your arms for just a moment to slip your shirt off. Then, your hands are back above your head, held down by his grip. He moves on from your neck and begins to kiss down.

“I like this game.” You manage out, and he chuckles.

“I know you do. You know how?”

You think about it for a moment before you answer. You want to be right.

“You can hear my heartbeat?”

“And I can smell you. You like this a lot. More than you like me?” He continues to kiss down your torso.

You don’t answer for a second. He bites your skin gently, prompting you to answer.

“No.” You answer, “No, I don’t like anything.. anyone more than you.”

He kisses the spot where he bit softly.

“Even smart girls need to be reminded sometimes.” Is all he says before he continues to kiss you. You try to hide it, try to hide your reaction to the words, but he grins against your skin.

“Matt..” you groan out softly because his kisses have stopped.

“What?”

“Why’d you stop?” You whined.

“You’re my smart girl, why don’t you tell me?” You pause, biting your lip. “Is it because you can’t? Do you like being dumb for me, smart girl?” You want to defend yourself, but he bites your skin again.

“Yes!” you respond, and he does the same thing he did before—He kisses where he bit.

“Good girl.” He responds. “I like making you dumb just from a few kisses anyways.” He tells you, finally reaching your stomach with his kisses. “I love my dumb little smart girl.” The cadence he has to his voice makes you whine again. He knows every part of you, even the parts you never wanted to tell him about. He’s just too observant. “I love that despite how well behaved and good you are, you’re dumb enough to be talked down to like this, by some strange man who just crawled through your window.”

You answer before you can think about it. You’re smart enough to know that he’s at least half right.

“You’re not just anyone, you’re my Matt.”

“Your Matt?” He hums. “Your Matt, My ditzy smart girl.” He grins, before placing one last kiss right above the waistline of your shorts.

He moves so he can kiss your lips again, kissing you quick before pulling off his mask so you can see his face. He has a cut on his forehead and a bruise forming on his cheek. It’s clear he had a good night though, or else this wouldn’t be happening.

“Your face..” You frown, concern in your voice.

“Observant and smart?” He teases, kissing your forehead. “What happened to wanting to be dumb for me?”

You’re almost embarrassed of it now.

“You’re being mean.” You say quietly.

“Mean? Me? To my best girl?” He kisses you quickly again. “Never.” He hums. One of his hands goes down to your thigh, his fingertips inching up.

“Never.” You echo.

“What do you say, smart girl?” He asks, “Wanna play a few more games? See just how desperate I can make you?”

You huff at his words, your brain short circuiting to the point where you speak before you can really think.

“I just want you to fuck me!”

He stops just as he’s about to pull off your shorts and slithers back up so the pair of you are face to face.

“First of all,” he places a kiss to your lips gently, “You are not in a position to be making demands, pretty girl. Second,” He kisses you again, “Such a foul mouth for such a dumb baby,” You let off a soft whine, and he has the audacity to mock your whine, “I know, it’s not much of a lecture when you like when I talk to you like this,” He hums. “And third, I know you’re smarter than to be a brat.” He says gently, kissing you again.

“I’m not a brat.” You whine, and again, he mocks you before devolving into a deep chuckle, leaning in to kiss you.

“I love you.” He says, with a grin on his face.

He’s gentle with you for a few moments, softer. You decide that now is your chance, and if you don’t act now, you’ll spend the rest of your night under his thumb. So, you flip over and have him under you, as you sit on his lower stomach. His hands come up to the back of your thighs.

“I’ve got you now, Devil.” You grin, leaning in to kiss him. But before you can, he’s flipping you back over, keeping you pinned by your legs.

“Brat.” he accuses, leaning in to kiss you again. You huff. “Easy, pretty girl, your attitude is getting the best of you.”

You frown and turn your head when he goes to kiss you.

“Tell me I’m not a brat and I’ll kiss you.” You demand, and he grins, but this time it isn’t soft. It’s almost wicked. He grabs your chin roughly and tilts your head towards him, before kissing you roughly.

“What did I tell you?” he asks. “Come on, smart girl, I know you remember.”

“That I was in no position to make demands?”

“That’s right.” He coos, “Now, baby, do you want to hear what I had planned for you tonight?”

You must admit, you’re very curious.

“Sure, Matty.” His grin widens.

“Well, I was planning on playing this little game with you, then eating you out until your thighs are shaking,” You let out a whine, but he just shushes you softly, “Sh, sh, sh… You wanted to hear, so listen.” He hums. “Then, I was going to fuck you until you were full of my cum.” He tells you.

Then, he lets out a disappointed sigh.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“That was what I was planning on, but because you decided to be a brat, I have a new plan.”

“I liked that plan so much though..”

“I know, Sweetheart, me too.. But you’re the one who ruined it.” He reminded, leaning in, and biting your jaw between his fingers. His hand positioning is not exactly choking, but the grip is tight enough to leave marks. He feels you grind your hips up a bit, and chuckles again. “Smart girl, already figuring out what’s next.”

You tilt your head in confusion, but before you know it, he’s repositioning you so you’re in his lap at the edge of the bed. He pats your thigh gently.

“Get up for me, Honey. Then you got to take your shorts off for me.” You do as you’re told, no longer interested in fucking up his plans. Then, he pulls you back onto his lap, and he hums gently. You decide to take a risk and bring your hands up to his jaw, and then up towards his mask.

“Please?” You ask gently. “Wanna see you..” He nods softly, letting you pull off his mask, as his head tilts to the side to kiss your palm.

“You remember who’s in charge, right, sweetheart?”

“You, devil.”

“That’s right, angel.” He praises, “And that’s why you’re going to ride my thigh.” You let out a soft whine, and he shakes his head, “No, no whining from you, sweet girl. You wanted to be a brat, so you gotta reap what you sew.”

He holds your hips as you begin to grind against his thigh, and Matt focuses on the way your breathing hitches as you rub against his thigh. Your hands grip his shoulders as he begins to kiss your neck again.

Your skin burns with need, and your hips roll faster as your breath speeds up, and slowly, minute by minute, you’re edging closer to your release. But he knows you’re close to coming undone not only because of how your skin is hot, and your breath is airy, but because you’re making such a mess.

You’re definitely staining his pant leg with your wetness, because after his insatiable teasing, you’re just desperate for him, and oh so sensitive. The speed of your grinding increases, and then, because he wants to see you break, he starts to bounce his leg up so that in addition to your grinding, it’s overwhelming you.

“Matt,” you say, breathlessly. “Matt, please..”

“Please what, smart girl? What do you want?” He’s really going to make you ask for it. This is all part of his game.

“Please..” You start, resting your head on his shoulder. “Please, can I come?”

“What was that, baby? I didn’t hear you.”

Oh, now he’s being a fucking dick. You know he can hear you, with his damned super senses. Nonetheless, you pick your head up and manage to get it out.

“Please let me come,” You beg, and he laughs.

“You know what’s funny, baby?” You let out a whine. “You’re so smart, always holding the world on your shoulders, and yet.. A little bit of teasing and riding my thigh, and you can barely get a sentence out.. You’re being so good for me, baby. So good at following orders,” He bites your neck. “So, go ahead and come for me, sweet girl.”

As soon as those words leave his lips, you’re letting go, the tight knot in your stomach finally snapping. You moan into his ear, his hands on your side to keep you stable as you come undone. He keeps bouncing his leg to have you ride out your high as your legs begin to shake. You’re making all of these pretty noises for him, and the smell of your juices are overwhelming for him.

“Such a good girl for me,” he hums, kissing you softly. He’s back to being rather gentle with you. But his cock is incredibly hard against his pants, and he needs to feel you clench around him. “Can my pretty baby ride my cock?” You’re shaking but you nod gently.

He knows you’re verging on the edge of being unable to do much else, but he wants to see how far he can push you. So, he pats your leg again and you stand up. His hands come up to undo your bra and pull off your panties.

He holds them in his hands for a moment, breathing in deeply as your scent continues to overwhelm him. He wastes no more time, pulling off his shirt and then starting to unbuckle his black pants. On instinct, you’re on your knees, with this.. primal desire to suck him off.

He takes a deep breath, his hand going to your hair and pushing your hair from your face. You lean into his touch, smiling softly up at him. He knows how much you like just thoughtless sex—You value long, intimate nights too, but after a long week, you need to shut off your brain and he needs to take control.

“Wanna suck my cock first, baby? You’re so good for me..” He says softly, slipping down his boxers.

“Just wanna be good for you,” You hum, eying his glistening hardness. You can’t deny that he looks truly crafted by the hands of God—Most of his body is glistening with sweat, cock glistening with precum. He is heavenly and the only thing you’ll ever want to worship.

“You’re so good for me. My dumb little smart girl.” The name form earlier makes you weak, as you lean in and begin to lick his tip. His hand grips your hair as he inhales sharply. “Careful, sweetheart.” He tells you, beginning to guide you in sucking him dry.

His hand guides you as your head bobs against his cock, the taste of him turning your brain further into mush. He makes sure to guide you at a steady pace, moaning out praise, and occasionally degradation.

“So fucking good for me,” He gasps out, “My good little girl.. Sucking my cock so good—Ah, fuck..” He gasps as you quicken your pace. “Sucking me like the little slut you are..” You moan against cock at that, and he gasps, before it devolves into a low chuckle. “And you like it, too.. Being called my little slut.. Good little slut, just for me.. Got you trained so well..” He holds on for a few more moments before he comes into your mouth, panting softly.

His cum dribbles down your chin as you swallow most of it, so his hand comes up to your chin to gently wipe the dribble off before he slips his thumb into your mouth.

“Every last drop for me, angel.” He requests. You happily suck on his thumb for a few moments while he recovers. Then, he leans down and picks you up, resting you on the bed again. “Now you’re gonna ride me, right, pretty?”

“Mhm..” You smile, and as soon as he lays back on the bed, you’re on top of him. His cock slides against your folds and you whine a bit, just desperate for the feeling of him filling you up. “You know how badly I want your cock..” He grins at this.

“You have it, angel. Just gotta ride me, okay?” You hum in response. You slowly lower yourself down onto his cock, taking a few minutes to adjust to the size of him. But your slow pace is not quick enough for Matt, whose hands find your hips (for the millionth time tonight) and quickly slides his entire length into you.

You moan loudly, a feeling of pain and pleasure blurring together as he hits just the right spot to make you see stars.

“Matt, fuck,” You whine, wanting to take a second to catch your breath.

“Color?” It’s a safe word system—He knows he might have taken it a tad too far, pushing into you like that.

“Green,” You promise.

“Okay, good.” He leans up and kisses your forehead gently, a sign of the gentleness that resides in his demeanor despite just how into his dominate behavior you are. He begins to roll his hips, and revels in the sound of the pretty screams coming out of your mouth as he begins to pound into you. “I’ve got you fucked dumb, baby? Can’t even ride my cock properly?” He asks, pulling you in to kiss your skin.

“No,” You protest, “I can do it,” It comes out whinier than you wanted it to—Much whinier, but you can’t deny that he’s wrong about that first part. Your brain is blurry in the best way. He hums in approval before gently pushing you away from his lips.

“Prove it, then.” He demands, and his hips are no longer bucking into you. Instead, you shakily begin to bounce against his cock, using his moans and gasps as guidance. His hands grip your thighs as you ride him. “There you go, angel. It’s not too much for you, right?” He hums.

“No!” You protest again, “No, Sir, I can take it,” He grins at the slip of the title. He swats the side of your thigh, rubbing it softly after you yelp, but it quickens your pace. His brain is beginning to fog too, so he knows he wants to get a few more comments out.

“Fucking liar,” he laughs, “Even when your.. fuck..” He gasps, the feeling of you clenching around him overwhelming him. “When you’re bouncing on my cock and moaning for me, you’re still lying..” His one hand travels to play with your clit, rubbing small circles into it. “So,” He takes a deep breath, leaning forward to rest his forehead on your shoulder, before picking his head back up. “I’ll ask you again.. Is it too much for you, my ditzy girl?”

Tears prick your eyes, as you will your brain to come up with a comprehensive answer.

“Yes!” You admit, “it’s too much,” You pant, but because you don’t say ‘red’ he keeps going.

“Aw, I know, honey,” He plants a soft kiss to your lips, the hand that isn’t rubbing circles into your clit coming up to brush sweaty hair from your face. “But you can take it. Come on, sweet thing, I know..” He hums. “Come for me, baby..”

And you do—You come hard, your vision going white for a fraction of a second as you let out these angelic noises. He doesn’t give a damn about noise complaints right now, all he can focus on is the smell of your sweat, your cum, and your pretty little noises.

You continue to rock your hips, wanting to feel his cum fill you up. And after a few more minutes, your wish comes true, as he grips your hip tightly with one hand as he comes deep inside you, as you roll your hips just a few more times, riding the last waves of a euphoric high.

His chest is heaving as you slump down against his chest. The pair of you are sweating, but he still looks so beautiful like this. His cock still fills you, his cum deep within you. His hand gently runs up and down your back,

“How’s my sweet girl doing..?” He’s afraid he went too far with you, hoping his words didn’t push you into a bad headspace. It’s happened before, where you just needed time to come back to reality. But tonight, you’re exhausted in a whole new way. You’re happy that you’ll actually be able to sleep.

“I’m good,” You promise. You’re sweaty, out of breath and completely fucked out of your mind.

He takes your jaw in his hand and tilts your head up so you’re looking in his general direction.

“You know I don’t really think you’re dumb, right?” He just needs to make sure.

“I know,” You giggle, “But it’s pretty hot in the moment. Besides, you took care of me.”

He grins and kisses your forehead.

“I’ll always take care of you.” He promises. You know he means it, too. Your Matty, always taking care of you. “You know you don’t need to worry about everything, right? You don’t have to hold the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

“I know,” You start, “But you’re always so busy with the firm, and being Daredevil, and—” He hushes you softly.

“I am never too busy for you.” He says gently. “I know I can’t do your job for you, but I can be more careful and help with dinner, you know.” He just wants you to be less stressed all the time, the hypocrite.

“Okay.” You say gently. “Thank you, Matt.” He holds you close and places a soft kiss to your head.

“You’re still shaking,” He says gently, “But you need to shower.” He says softly, moving now so that he can carry you to your bathroom. You whine at the feeling of emptiness you’re left with when he slides out of you, and he just laughs. “I know, Baby, I know.”

Matt is just a general fan of taking care of you. Even when you’re fucked out of your mind like you are right now. You love that about him.

You love that the devil is so devoted to you. It stirs something deep inside you that you can’t quite voice. Matt knows it, too.

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #daredevil fic #daredevil #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fluff #daredevil fanfiction #matt murdock smut #dom!matt murdock #marvel smut #rough kink #never seeing the pearly gates #no plot

613 notes · View notes

feralrabidcrow · 3 days

Text

I'm sure all of us are familiar with what happened to Heavy and Medic in the TF2 comics, particularly, comic #6.

They reunite after spending 6 months apart following the mercenaries being fired. Heavy has been living back in Russia with his family, and Medic has joined the TFC team, which has gone horribly.

Their reunion is in a less than ideal situation as Heavy is interrupting Cheavy from tearing Medic into pieces. Cheavy kills Medic, and Heavy completely loses his shit. He is determined to kill the man who killed his Doktor. To a degree that doesn't seem like avenging a friend, almost more like avenging a partner. Someone he loves deeply.

But then Medic comes back, and Heavy is just... weirdly casual about it. He goes from complete rage mode to "Ah Doktor it is good to have you back." No hug, no tears, just accepts that Medic is alive again. It almost feels like there is an awkwardness between them.

From a logical standpoint, this is just TF2 being TF2. The emotional moments in the comics are often quickly switched to a comedic tone.

But my Red Oktoberfest obsessed brain has latched onto this hard, and I have a headcanon that is now deeply ingrained into my worldview.

Heavy and Medic broke up when the team disbanded.

As much as I like the idea of Heavy and Medic keeping things going long distance and writing letters to each other, it doesn't make much sense to me logically.

This is something I've thought about a lot, to the point where I'm considering writing an angsty little one-shot about it.

I believe that when Gray Mann took control and fired the mercenaries, Heavy and Medic were left in a complicated situation where their interests no longer aligned. Heavy wanted to go back home to Russia and take care of his family. Medic wanted to look for a new job to continue his medical mad science endeavours. No matter what, if they were to stay together, someone would have ended up dissatisfied. After trying and failing to come up with a compromise, they decided the best thing was to go their separate ways.

But it didn't change the fact that they still loved each other. They went on to their new situations, with feelings of lingering regret and wondering what could have happened if they had stayed together.

When they reunite in the comics, this is the first time seeing each other since their painful break-up. They still care deeply for each other, hence Heavy instantly becoming protective of Medic when he sees him in danger. And when Medic dies, he snaps completely. He has thought about this man constantly since returning to Russia, silently hurting over the loss of the only real relationship he ever had. And now that man is dead. Of course he's going to lose it.

But when Medic comes back, he's confronted with the fact that Medic technically isn't his partner anymore, not at this point, anyways. In comes the awkwardness. He isn't sure how to approach this now. He and Medic have barely even spoken to each other at this point, much less talked about their feelings or their break-up.

I like to think shortly after the 6th comic ends, or sometime off-screen, they talk things out, resolve their issues, and maybe even share a lovely little reuniting kiss. But hey, that's just a theory! A game theory!

#tf2 #team fortress #team fortress 2 #tf2 comics #medic tf2 #heavy tf2 #tf2 heavy #tf2 medic #heavy x medic #medic x heavy #heavymedic #redoktoberfest #red oktoberfest #tf2 red oktoberfest #tf2 headcanons #tf2 fanfiction

293 notes · View notes

glow-worms-are-believers · 10 months

Text

Identity Theft (dp x dc)

Dan was furious.

Probably angrier than he’d been since his fight with his wimpy younger self, though that wasn’t hard since he’d spent most of the time since then in one of the Fenton Thermos. He had forgotten how tiny and cramped it was in there. He had hated it but Dan had figured he’d bide his time until an opportunity to escape arose when he could then exact his revenge upon his younger self along with his puny friends and Jasmine.

And the opportunity had indeed come, and much faster than he would have thought. Someone had actually released him voluntarily. Mentally celebrating, Dan had prepared to kill the poor fool in return when he’d felt something settle around him and suddenly he couldn’t move.

“I’ve got you!” said the man holding a glowing scepter. “Did you think I wouldn’t find you again, Phantom?”

Dan would have groaned if he could, because of course this was about the brat.

“I only had to follow your ecto-signature my dearest Lydia procured for me,” the stupid man continued on. “Did you think the Fenton thermos would protect you from me?”

There, the man laughed and Dan promised himself that he would kill the other man slowly and painfully as soon as he got out of this.

“Nevermind your cowardice, you’re mine now.” The man smiled and snapped his fingers, a red haze fell over his vision and Dan couldn’t think anymore.

He wasn’t quite sure how long he was lost to the haze and all his memories were half-formed things that made no sense. There was a circus tent, some people screaming and the never ending spiraling colors within the ringmaster’s scepter it could’ve been a few hours or a decade, Dan couldn’t have told you.

Next thing he remembered was blinking away the red as a shattering sound registered to his ears. Coming back to consciousness was like trying to get out of a ball pit, slow and tortuous.

“Are you alright?” Someone was saying.

Dan turned to look at a man who was all green and was wearing a cape for some reason.

“My name is Martian Manhunter, I am part of the Justice league. May I offer you some assistance?”

“I’m alright,” Dan said as his just-recovering brain took in all the other masked and costumed heroes talking to some of what Dan assumed were the ringmaster’s victims. As his eyes went over the superheroes, a wicked idea bloomed in his mind.

“My name is Phantom,” Dan started as he tried to make himself appear smaller. “I’m a vigilante, I guess you could say? I protect the living from ghosts trying to cause havoc.”

“Ghosts?” asked a man wearing a dark costume with two ear-like things on his head

“Most the ringmaster’s prisoners are ghosts,” Dan explained.

“So you’ve fought him before?” asked the dark-cowled man.

“Yeah but he would never have gotten me if it hadn’t been for Danny,” Dan started as he let his shoulders slump, time to sell this. “He - he’s a clone created to destroy me and take my place and he did just that.”

“That’s awful,” said one of the heroes, a young man in black and blue.

“He stole my appearance and transformed me into this,” Dan said as he gestured to himself in mock-disgust. “My sister and friends have all been manipulated by him and believe him over me. I don’t know how to fix it, I just know he’ll stop at nothing to keep Amity Park under his thumb.”

The heroes looked at each other before the eared one spoke up. “The Justice League would be glad to offer assistance to a fellow hero, Phantom. How can we be of assistance?”

Dan had to stop a smirk from stretching on his face.

#Dan gets to the Justice League first and when Danny tries to warn them they assume he’s trying to manipulate them #Only the younger heroes seem to hear him out a little bit #dc x dp #dp x dc #roxpox #roxpoxwrote #dan phantom

878 notes · View notes

spacebarbarianweird · 3 months

Text

The Dragon Made of Threads

Synopsis: Astarion is making a gift for you.

Tags: fluff

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion’s mind doesn’t let him rest.

The reverie is supposed to be a blessing, the only way for the True People to remember their long lives. But his long life was nothing but misery until very recently and he keeps being dragged into the darkness.

Oh, Astarion was so naive to believe it could have been over by killing his master and having the “rebirth” experience on the grave.

His past haunts him.

“You are tired,” you touch his forehead as if trying to sense fever. “You need some rest.”

“My sweet, elves can survive without trance for a week. And I am undead. I am fine.”

“You don't look fine. You have dark circles and your eyelids are puffy again. You need to rest.”

“No, I don’t!” He tries to sound confident but instead his voice resembles a rebellious teenager.

You are right, of course. The elves can survive without reverie for a week, the same way non-elves can make it through one or two sleepless nights. Then, the body and mind collapse.

But entering the reverie… Reliving tortures and humiliation… Feeling the same sense of misery and horror and hopelessness… No, he can’t do that. Not now. Not ever.

You are ready to sleep - it’s the first time in a month that you sleep in the room, not in the tent - the thick curtains protect Astarion from the merciless sun.

“Please,” you yawn. “Meditate.”

“I will.”

“Don’t lie to me, please, I know when you are dishonest.”

Astarion grins. “Oh, my sweet, I am no liar. I am going to reverie once you fall asleep. I just like watching you when the dreams take over you.”

“Astarion, when you say the truth your eyes are wide open. When you smirk, you lie. Listen, maybe I can do something? Something to make you… think about something pleasant? It’s been a year! There are a lot of good memories to relive. Let’s just find a way to point your mind in the right direction!”

A year of good memories. Well, a little bit more. Four months of having a tadpole in his brain, experiencing freedom and sunlight, falling in love, learning how to feel again, and how to be alive. All these memories are precious, even the ones he is embarrassed about. For example, using you in his own favor. It doesn’t matter you’ve forgiven him - it still hurts.

Astarion sighs and lies beside you. Your arms immediately wrap around him. The familiar warmth is so tender that Astarion lets himself slip away into the reverie.

He is indeed tired.

He needs to rest.

But instead of grasping a good memory, a pleasant or at least bearable, his mind collapses into the abyss.

Chained to the wall. Bleeding. Hurting. He can’t scream anymore. It’s an old memory from when he was still hoping. He begs for mercy but no one listens. Hunger. Pain. Blood. Again, again.

The master is whistling, carving the symbols on Astarion’s back with a silver dagger. The cursed metal feels like melted lava.

Astarion doesn’t need to sleep, neither does the vampire lord.

This is your life, forever. You are doomed. No one will save you.

No! No! It’s not true! It will end! It will take two centuries, two long and miserable centuries, but it will come to an end!

Astarion screams in the past until his throat burns.

“Astarion! Astarion!”

He feels the warm hands shaking his shoulders. He returns to reality like a drowned man from the dark waters, numb and restless.

You don’t say anything and he collapses into your arms, crying like a lost child.

“I can’t… I can’t… I need to rest… But I can’t…”

His back… His back is still bleeding, he can feel it, but your fingers caress the scars. It’s all over. It’s been more than a year. He will never return to those dungeons. No one will ever mutilate him again.

You let him go and pick up the travel sack in the corner.

“I bought something at the potion merchant. I think it might help.”

“Please, I - I can… handle…”

You take out a bottle with a golden liquid.

Angelic sleep potion.

The only way to make an elf experience regular sleep.

“No.”

“Astarion, what choice do you have? One more day like this and you won’t be able to walk on your own. You need it.”

“No! I am not drinking this! My mind keeps bringing me real nightmares and I have heard all about the creepy dreams and nightmares the sleeping mind can weave!”

“But it won't be reality! Besides, when a non-elf is exhausted like you, they don’t see dreams.”

“But I won’t be able to escape it. With reverie at least I know it’s a memory!”

You sit beside Astarion and hug him. “Please. If you don’t want to do this for yourself, do this for me. I can’t see you suffering like this.”

Astarion sighs. “You are manipulative, you know?”

“Learned from a professional”.

Astarion adjusts himself back on the bed and opens the bottle. The potion smells intoxicating. “But I do this only for you.”

“And I am grateful for your sacrifice.”

Astarion drains the bottle and before he manages to acknowledge anything, sleep takes him.

He sees visions and images. Places and people. Some are familiar, and some are not. His mind weaves the dreams out of emotions, memories, and experiences.

Astarion dreams of a dragon.

It’s an ancient species of dragons, otherworldly. A majestic creature capable of carrying a dragon rider on its back.

Astarion rides this dragon above the Trackless Sea. There is nothing but the water and open blue skies.

And the sun.

It feels like cat fur on his skin, gentle and warm.

Astarion wakes up still dizzy with the unrealness of what he saw.

And he feels amazing.

His body is rested, and his mind is clear. The dream was so vivid that Astarion would believe he was once a dragon rider if he didn’t know about the weird fantasies of non-elven dreams.

He looks at you, sound asleep in the bed. His. You are his. And he is yours. What a sheer amount of luck made you meet each other? And how lucky he is you chose him.

It is still afternoon, hours before the sunset and he knows too well you won't wake up till evening.

Astarion needs to occupy himself with something. He gets up, stretches his arms, and then sees your traveling cape on the floor.

“Such a messy little thing”, he chuckles. Astarion picks up the cape and notices a hole in the fabric.

Astarion takes his sewing kit from the traveling sack. He loves repairing things for you - complaining all the way, of course - but he never lets you sew yourself.

And then the idea comes to his mind.

Instead of black threads, he picks the red ones. It takes him a few attempts to understand how to do that but then the stitches come naturally from his fingers.

A dragon soaring in the skies. A divine creature from other planes. A beast that came to him in his dreams.

Astarion carefully embroiders the body of the dragon, then the wings and a stream of fire from its mouth.

He still has a lot of threads left and he starts embroidering the other dragon on the opposite side of the cape.

Then he notices something has changed.

The curtain is wide open and the moonlight streams inside the room. You sit beside him, smiling at his work.

“Oh, sorry, my sweet. I’ve been carried away…”

“It’s all right. I like watching you sew. But it’s the first time I see you making something like this.”

“Do you like it?”

“Of course!” you touch the embroidered dragons. “So real! I didn’t know you could do such things!”

“I- I’ve seen them. In a dream.”

The tender fingers touch his curls. “You’ve rested, haven’t you?”

“Yes. I have,” Astarion hands you the cape. “If you want, I can add more. I just need more threads”.

You smile and kiss him. “Of course, I do. Thank you.”

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume @brainfullofhotsauce @coffeeanddonutscafe

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion romance #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion angst #astarion drabble #astarion short fic #spacebarbarian fics #astarion fluff #astarion comfort #baldur's gate post game #Valentine Day Fic Exchange

223 notes · View notes

bitterbeanren · 9 months

Text

I spent days writing this self-indulgent basically a self-insert/self-ship (but I made it second person with the hopes that others could enjoy it) fic because holy shit am I down bad. Story under the cut.

Jing Yuan x AFAB nonbinary reader. Slow burn. I tried to not mention skin tone either, skin just heats up, warms, etc. because THAT’S WHAT HAPPENS TO ME WHEN I GET EMBARRASSED!!!! Reader has boobs but size aint exactly specified. I think they’re only mentioned like once. Also, like, literally fam I wrote this for me and with my experience as enby in mind, which is gunna be different from other people’s.

This is long. This is bad. This includes some of my favourite tropes. It’s for me, IT’S FOR ME!!! But I wanted to SHARE so yeah.

THERE MIGHT BE SPOILERS MAYBE SO READ AT YOUR OWN RISK I HAVE NOT GONE OVER THIS AT ALL I JUST WROTE AND WROTE AND WROTE—

Warnings: character deaths(?), loss of a parent figure, slightly possessive Jing Yuan, author being a bit feral, exactly three underscores being used for your name, and reader has hair on their head for plot reasons. JING YUAN IS TALLER THAN YOU(because he would easily be taller than me ;-;)!!!

Moments in Time

The first time Jing Yuan meets you is after he is taken in by Swordmaster Jingliu. It’s at his new mentor’s estate while he’s still getting used to living there instead of at home— you poke your head out from behind one of the courtyard veranda’s pillars with a grin. The two of you are around the same age, though you might be a bit younger.

Jing Yuan is practicing his strikes, 586, 587, 588… and you watch him with a spark of mischief in your eyes. “Hello!” You greet, he ignores you. 589, 590, 591–

You dart towards him and he stumbles back, keeping his sword in his hand but twirling it so you’re staring up at its flat edge. “Hey!” Jing Yuan snaps at you with a glare, “That’s dangerous, be more careful!”

“You weren’t going to hit me,” you state, poking the blade before returning your gaze to him, smiling. “You’re Jing Yuan, right? I’m Yingxing’s apprentice!”

Sheathing his sword, Jing Yuan quickly wracks his brain— Yingxing… Yingxing… ah, the furnace master of the Artisan Commission. Jingliu’s friend. He remembers the sandy-haired man and Imbibitor Lunae visiting for tea. “I didn’t realize that the furnace master had taken on an apprentice. Is he here as well?”

“Yes! He’s in a meeting with the swordmaster, so I decided to look for you.”

Jing Yuan frowns. “You… decided to look for me?”

“Yeah! Jingliu mentioned you were training, and I wanted to meet you!”

The white-haired boy places one of his hands on his hip, looking at you expectantly. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, apprentice swordsmith.”

“Oh, I guess I should have introduced myself better…” you let out a laugh. It’s cute. Then, you hold out your hand to him. “Nice to meet you, Jing Yuan. My name is ___.”

~*~

Whenever Yingxing comes to visit Jingliu, you come along to visit Jing Yuan. You remind the boy of a duckling— you follow behind Yingxing like one, eyes bright, and usually chattering cheerfully. It’s cute… you’re cute, Jing Yuan thinks. Especially when Yingxing ruffles your hair and you pout.

Jing Yuan starts ruffling your hair too, and you complain and scowl, but then you laugh and try to ruffle his unruly hair in response, and Jing Yuan compares you to a sun. Warm, cheerful… your smiles and laughter brightens any space you’re in.

“It’s people like that who we as Cloud Knights aspire to protect,” Jingliu tells him one day, the two of them watching as you animatedly tell Dan Feng a story while Yingxing looks at you and the Vidyadhara fondly. “They’re the ones who make what we’re doing worth it, Jing Yuan.”

The boy nods his head in agreement.

You’re the bright-eyed apprentice of the furnace master, and he’s the apprentice of the swordmaster. As your mentors are friends— along with the High Elder of the Vidyadhara— it makes sense that the two of you would become close as well. And Jing Yuan doesn’t mind.

Whenever you visit, he’s the first one you look for. Jing Yuan teaches you starchess, and you show him sketches of weapons you want to make. Some days you practice basic combat with him in the courtyard. Your mentors sometimes sit on the veranda and watch the two of you while chatting over tea, and once you’re both worn out from training you dart over to claim some snacks for yourselves.

The years pass and Jing Yuan is significantly taller than you now. It’s more difficult for you to ruffle his hair. So now, Jing Yuan mostly just pats the top of your head, only ruffling your hair when he feels particularly playful. Both of you are now in your early twenties: Jing Yuan is an apprentice Cloud Knight and you spend your days designing weapons and continuing your apprenticeship under Yingxing. On your days off, the two of you often sit together in the courtyard where you first met, relaxing under the pomegranate tree and enjoying the shade it provides. You lay on the ground, arms and legs splayed out, and let out a yawn.

“Tired, are you? I hope I’m not boring you, apprentice swordsmith,” Jing Yuan teases.

“Sorry,” you smile sheepishly. “Yingxing always scolds me when he catches me napping in the middle of the day, but I just feel so tired sometimes, you know?”

The white-haired apprentice Cloud Knight chuckles, shaking his head. “I’m sure that Master Yingxing is just concerned about you.”

“Yeah, I know. Ugh, it’s so embarrassing— I accidentally called him Dad the other day when he was scolding me,” you groan, covering your eyes with your arm. “He looked so taken aback, I didn’t know what to do.”

Jing Yuan lays down next to you, crossing his arms behind his head as a makeshift pillow. It’s comfortable. “Really? I assumed that the Furnace Master would be overjoyed to hear that from you. You’ve always acted like a kid around him, and he always struck me as the sort of man who would treat his apprentices like his own children.”

“I—“ you pause, removing your arm from your face. “I mean, you’re not wrong. It’s just… been a bit tough for me to face him lately. He has basically raised me since I became his apprentice over a decade ago, but… it’s a weird situation.”

“Ah…” Jing Yuan lets out a thoughtful hum. He knows you should just talk it out with Yingxing, but understands that it’s a tough thing for you to discuss. Unlike you, the furnace master is a short-lived species— you’ve obviously become attached, and though you’ve spent a good amount of your youth being trained by the man, you knew that he would be gone in the blink of an eye in comparison to you. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out, ___. You’re smart, after all.”

“I am smart, aren’t I?” You grin widely at the compliment, then look a bit sad. “I… won’t talk about it much more than this, Yuan, and we should talk about something else soon because I know thinking like this could get me in trouble, but… I wish Yingxing could be long-lived like us. I want him to be around for all my milestones, you know? It’s… selfish.”

“It’s not selfish for you to wish for,” Jing Yuan assures. “Sadly, it is not a wish that can be achieved.”

“I know, I know… let’s change topics now,” you sigh, then turn your head to smile at him. “You have an expedition coming up with Jingliu soon, right? Man, I can’t wait to hear all about it…! Do you think you’re gunna lose another sword?”

“That happened once, ___!”

The two of you banter back and forth for a bit before just enjoying the quiet and the artificial sunlight, and the next thing Jing Yuan knows he’s dozed off.

Later, when he wakes, you’re curled up against his side. Your head is laid on his arm, one of your legs is slung over his, your arm is loosely resting across his waist, and your chest—

Jing Yuan feels his face go hot. Your chest is pressed against his side and now it’s all he can think about. He’s a young man after all— and though you prefer to live as gender neutrally as possible, you have the body of a beautiful… person and it’s one that Jing Yuan is undoubtedly attracted to. Often it’s hard to remember due to your preference for unisex clothing and tops a bit too big for you, but you’ve matured.

“Aeons,” Jing Yuan curses under his breath. When he tries to carefully untangle himself from you, you whine, nuzzling against his arm in your sleep and the white-haired man knows he’s absolutely fucked.

With his other hand, the one attached to the arm you aren’t currently resting on, he runs it down his face, covering his mouth and willing his heart to slow down.

He shouldn’t be attracted to his best friend, but he is. You’re kind, funny, and dedicated— your smile is something that never fails to brighten his day. Everything about you, even your flaws, were things that Jing Yuan found endearing and cute and—

Oh. Oh no. He’s in love with you. You snicker a bit in your sleep as though you’re amused by his realization, then roll onto your back, allowing Jing Yuan to gently remove his arm from under your head.

You’re precious to him. You’ve been precious to him for years. For Aeons sake, he can’t figure out when the friendship shared between the two of you blossomed into something more for him.

Before the artificial sun sets, he shakes you awake with a lazy smile and lets you know that you wasted the day napping. You complain that if he was awake, he should have woken you up sooner.

Jing Yuan loves you, he realized it. But he isn’t going to tell you unless you realize it yourself. Instead, he teases you and thinks how he understands now why you’re wary of your attachment to Yingxing, even if his empathy comes from a different place.

After all, the idea of losing you in any way terrifies him.

~*~

You craft something that isn’t a weapon. A floral hair stick with a hair slide, both made of steel.

“And what is this for, Apprentice Swordsmith?” Jing Yuan asks you after you show him.

“It’s for Da—“ you cut yourself off, smiling sheepishly. Ah, you’re still doing that. Thinking of him as your father, but doing your best to use his name and title as if it’ll lessen your attachment. “For Master Yingxing. It’s a gift for his birthday tomorrow. I worked really hard on it— small things like this are much harder to make than weapons... I broke all my other attempts.” You look up into Jing Yuan’s golden eyes, your worries etched on your brow. “Do you think it’s good enough? Should I have crafted him a weapon instead?”

“He’ll love it,” Jing Yuan assures. At his words, you perk up, practically bouncing from foot to foot. “Am I to assume that Master Yingxing’s birthday is the reason why you invited both myself and Master Jingliu to his estate tomorrow night?”

“Yes! I also invited Baiheng and Dan Feng,” you tell your friend cheerfully. “Birthdays are important, after all.” The ‘for short-lived species’ goes unsaid.

“I’m impressed, though,” Jing Yuan picks up the hair stick and slide. “I never thought you of all people would make something so delicate.”

“Oh, shut up,” you laugh, snatching it back and placing it carefully into the box. “I wanted him to have something nice to put in his hair, but I couldn’t find one that I liked in the market… so I figured I could design one myself.”

“It’s well crafted.”

“I’m sure that Master Yingxing could make a better one. He’s so talented— I need to learn as much from him as I can. I mean, look at your guan dao. It’s a work of art— all of the weapons of the High Cloud Quintet are masterpieces.”

Jing Yuan has heard this before. “You should give yourself more credit, Apprentice Swordsmith. The weapons you make for the Cloud Knights—“

“Aren’t good enough,” you interrupt, shaking your head stubbornly. “Not yet.”

Though he doesn’t like it when you’re so hard on yourself, the determined glint in your eyes is more than enough to make his heart flutter. For years, Jing Yuan has allowed his feelings for you to grow, and now they simmer under the surface of every action, word, and thought towards you.

You tuck the box into your bag, then reach out and clasp Jing Yuan’s hand between yours, beaming up at him. Your smile is a sun and it’s all he can do to revolve around you. “I’ve gotta go and pick up supplies for the party tomorrow— see you then?”

“Of course,” Jing Yuan replies, grinning back down at you.

The next day, Jing Yuan arrives at the Yingxing estate with Jingliu, whose red eyes are cold but soften slightly when Yingxing waves at them from the courtyard. She’s close to them, but not with Jing Yuan. The spider lilies are in bloom in the garden, and the leaves of the courtyard’s maple tree almost match them. The aging man stands tall in his casual clothes as they approach, smiling brightly, his long, sandy hair blowing slightly in the breeze. “Jingliu! Jing Yuan! It’s good to see you both, are you well?”

“Yes,” Jingliu answers with a curt nod, a smile forming on her lips as she rests a hand on her hip. “Happy birthday, Yingxing. Have you enjoyed it thus far?”

“I have! Dan Feng arrived earlier and is currently helping ___ bring dinner into the sitting room. Baiheng is there, too,” Yingxing turns around, showing off hair accessories that Jing Yuan recognizes. “And look what my kid made me! Aren’t they beautiful?”

“Your kid?” Jingliu lets out a short laugh. “It’s… sweet how attached you are to your apprentice.”

“They called me dad, Liu. Let me be happy about it,” the furnace master chuckles. “We practically raise our apprentices, after all. And ___ will probably be my only one,” Yingxing adds. His expression changes slightly for a moment, sad, but then he grins and gestures towards the main house. “Let’s go join the others.”

“…Yeah,” Jing Yuan’s master nods. Her expression is more guarded, now, and she glances over her shoulder at Jing Yuan. “You better not be thinking of calling me Mom, Jing Yuan.”

Ah.

As Yingxing bursts into laughter, Jing Yuan understands. This is yet another difference between short-lived and long-lived species… and his master is trying to cheer her friend up. Jingliu is, at times, stubborn to a fault, but she quickly realized what she needed to do for her friend after unintentionally reminding him of his mortality.

Jing Yuan smiles, following after the woman he respects so much. “What, you won’t find it cute if I did?”

“Not at all. It would be much cuter coming from ___.”

“I’m hurt, Master.”

“I agree with Liu— ___ is far cuter than you in every way, Jing Yuan,” Yingxing teases. “But I’m sure you already knew that.”

“You’re correct,” Jing Yuan smiles. “___ is incredibly cute. I don’t think a cuter person exists.”

Yingxing shoots Jing Yuan a knowing look, and Jing Yuan grins back at him boyishly. Jingliu lets out a small sigh, and the three continue to walk towards the main house. “Are you ever going to tell them, Jing Yuan?”

“I’m waiting for them to realize it themself,” the white-haired knight replies. The three of them drop the conversation as they enter the building, seeing you balancing multiple plates while Baiheng and Dan Feng arrange the dishes on the table.

“Jing Yuan!” Your eyes lock onto his instantly, and a happy look spreads across your face. Then, you look at your mentor and his. “Welcome back, Dad! And hello, Jingliu!”

Jing Yuan smiles. You two must have finally talked it out.

“One would almost think that it’s your birthday today with how excited you are, little ___,” Jingliu comments, crossing her arms.

“I’m just really happy that everyone showed up to celebrate Dad’s birthday with him today!” You respond easily, and the sandy-haired man chuckles, ruffling your hair fondly.

Though you’re all adults, the other four members of the High Cloud Quintet sometimes treat you and Jing Yuan like you’re still kids at these events. The two of you sit together, pouring sweet wine for your elders and feeling happy. At the square table, only three sides are used. Baiheng sits next to Jingliu, Yingxing and Dan Feng sit together, and you sit at the corner between Dan Feng and Jing Yuan. You take pictures of everyone and pass food around and drink along with them, your smile never leaving your face even when it’s time to say goodnight.

Yingxing has an arm slung around your shoulders as you grin up at him in the courtyard with everyone under the maple tree. “Dad, Dad! Did you have a good birthday?” You ask the older man, who ruffles your hair with his other hand.

“Of course I did. I can’t wait for next year.”

Dan Feng watches the two of you with a fond expression, and Jing Yuan feels his heart clench as he realizes that the corners of Yingxing’s eyes didn’t used to crinkle like that when he smiled.

Every year, Yingxing looks a bit older than the rest of his friends.

~*~

Time takes away from you, again and again.

Dan Feng is going to be forced to reincarnate and lose all his memories. None of you are allowed to see him. Once his new incarnation comes of age, he’ll be banished. At the same time, Yingxing is being kept under close watch by you and the remaining members of the High Cloud Quintet.

You’re mad at both of them, but you still feel grateful. Your wish came true, but it’s at the cost of someone else that you cherish. You’re heartbroken, but Yingxing is your dad. He’s the one who taught you how to use the forge, the one who encouraged you, the one who would help bandage your burns, cuts, or scrapes.

For the next century you enjoy your borrowed time. He teaches you more and more and more. Then the mara strikes him— his sandy hair turns black. His eyes change, and he doesn’t recognize you anymore.

“…Dad?”

He doesn’t smile at you. Doesn’t call you his kid, something that always made you happy even though you weren’t a kid anymore. His arms are bound behind his back and he stares at you with empty eyes, now blood red.

“He’s gone, ___,” Jingliu tells you. She looks tired. “…To be struck with mara is to be a long-lived species. It just… happened sooner than we expected after what happened.”

It hurts more, this way. Before, you knew he would be gone before you, but after what Dan Feng and Yingxing had done you let yourself believe that maybe you would still have one of them around for a long time.

It hurts more, this way. Now Dan Feng is gone, and though physically Yingxing is here, he isn’t.

You’re led away by the Cloud Knights after you say your one-sided goodbyes. Time keeps on taking from you.

Jing Yuan comes to visit you. The spider lilies in the garden are blooming again, but now you sit under the maple tree alone, feeling empty. The Cloud Knight Lieutenant says your name, and you look up at him with tears in your eyes.

“…A momento,” Jing Yuan says softly, kneeling down in front of you and taking your hand in his. In it, he places a familiar hair slide and stick. “I’m so sorry, ___.”

Your lip quivers, and you throw your arms around your friend’s neck with a sob.

~*~

You are asked to take on an apprentice after Baiheng passes away, but you don’t take one on. Then, after Jingliu is struck with mara and Jing Yuan goes to confront her, you are offered the position of furnace master. You refuse.

You continue to live in and care for your adopted father’s estate, though you opt to live in the east wing rather than take the main house. Whenever Jing Yuan needs his weapons maintained or repaired, you are the one he goes to. He's an arbiter general now, and you’re proud of him. But now it’s more rare to see him, and now that there are guards stationed at his estate you don’t feel comfortable visiting him. Today, he’s visiting you, and you’ve set up tea in the courtyard under the maple tree.

“I heard you were offered the position of furnace master,” Jing Yuan mentions. You wince under his stare. “Care to explain your refusal?”

“I don’t want to deal with all the politics that you need to deal with now that you’re in a position of power,” you shrug. The man pouts. “Plus, I enjoy what I’m doing now. The forge here is all I need— I don’t need more.”

It’s true. The forge and workshop that Dad had created in the west wing has everything you need to do your work, alone, without strangers peering over your shoulder and commenting on what you should do. What you should make.

“I’ve also heard whispers that you’ve been refusing weapon commissions.”

With a sigh, you put down your teacup. “What is this, an interrogation?”

“Just curiosity. What have you been crafting instead?”

“Tools, armor, and other such things,” you lean your head against your hand. You’re tired of war. Of battle. You’re tired of losing the people you care about. “Your weapons are the only ones I’ll work with now.”

“Oh? I’m the exception then?” Jing Yuan gazes at you curiously, and you smile at him.

“Yes, you’re the exception,” you tell him genuinely. “See, I like making armor and tools more now. I don’t like fighting— I know that it’s necessary sometimes, but I want to help people create. I want to protect them in my own way… I know you’ll use your weapons to protect, so now the only weapons I create will be for you.”

Jing Yuan’s expression softens and he reaches out to place his hand on yours. “You want peace?”

“I do.”

“Then that is what I will aim for as well.”

~*~

Jing Yuan visits as you’re tending to the garden.

“Look, ___! A grimalkin! I’ve named it Mimi.”

You stare at the white fuzzball in your best friend’s arms, and can’t help but reach out to pet the little thing. “A grimalkin? It’s so cute! But aren’t you too busy to take care of a pet?”

Jing Yuan’s eyes hold a spark of mischief. “I’ve decided that Qingzu is going to be responsible for it while I’m busy with my duties.”

Your heart sinks for the Vidyadhara. “Yuan… it isn’t very nice of you to purchase a pet, then have your subordinate be the one to care for it.”

The man had the gall to look offended. “I will care for it. I already feel incredibly fond of Mimi, after all.”

Arms crossed, you give Jing Yuan an unimpressed look. “You know that isn’t what I meant, General.”

“Please, my dear friend, you know I prefer it when you call me by name.”

“Which I would be more than happy to use… were you not using your position to sic your responsibilities on others.”

“You wound me, ___.”

You let out a long-suffering sigh, then bury your hands in Mimi’s fur. “Your owner is awfully irresponsible, isn’t he Mimi? I would like to apologize on his behalf.”

The little grimalkin stares at you with big blue eyes. You feel your heart melt at the sight, and you lean forwards to press a kiss to the top of the pet’s head.

Jing Yuan watches you interact with Mimi and decides that the sight of you and the white-furred grimalkin together was worth every cent he paid to that merchant.

“If you’d like, please feel free to visit Mimi at the Seat of Divine Foresight,” Jing Yuan offers. Since he had taken up the position of Arbiter General, you hadn’t visited him at his home or workplace. If he wants to see you, which he always does, he has to visit your estate or chance to see you at the markets. “Or at my estate, should we not be there.”

You let out a small laugh. “And what reason would a lowly artisan have to even enter the Seat of Divine Foresight, General? I don’t think it would make sense for me to visit your workplace. Especially if I say it’s to play with your pet.”

“The guards at both my estate and the Seat of Divine Foresight know that if you ever come by, you’re to be allowed in regardless of reason, even if I am not there,” Jing Yuan tells you firmly. “And you aren’t a lowly artisan. You’re the only swordsmith who I will allow to handle my weapons as well as my dearest friend.”

You’re surprised by his words. Ever since Jing Yuan had become Arbiter General, you felt like you couldn’t visit him. To learn that the man had given his guards specific instructions to let you in was enough to make your cheeks warm in embarrassment.

“Yuan, you really didn’t need to go to all that trouble!”

Jing Yuan grins down at you. “I’d love for you to visit me personally, but if Mimi is the one you come to see, I completely understand.

“Yuan!”

~*~

After Jing Yuan introduces you to Mimi, you try to visit the adorable creature every few weeks when you have time. This continues up until early November, when you leave to spend a couple of months on another Alliance ship to deliver some non-Luofu commissions. When you return in mid-January, it is clear that Mimi is not a grimalkin. Mimi is, in fact, a lion. You have never felt worse for Qingzu. The Vidyadhara looks frazzled when you drop by the Seat of Divine Foresight to play with the not-grimalkin upon your return.

As soon as Mimi sees you, they rise from where they were laying down and pad over to you, brushing their head against you. You look around in alarm, burying your hands in familiar white fur, and soon spot an exhausted looking Qingzu approaching.

“Ah, ___,” Qingzu greets you with a bow. “It has been awhile. Are you here to play with Wave-Treading Snow Lion?”

“…Jing Yuan shouldn’t be allowed to name anything. When and why did he change their name?”

“A couple of days ago,” Qingzu smiles at you but her eyes look empty. “He decided that Mimi didn’t fit as a name anymore.”

“They were raised with the name Mimi. We shouldn’t confuse the poor thing,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair. “And I’m assuming he’s been making you the primary caretaker of a lion you didn’t ask for?” A nod. “I’m so sorry, Qingzu. Thank you so much— Mimi’s still so sweet and behaved thanks to your care… I’ll talk to the general about this, though. Is he here?”

The exhausted Vidyadhara gives you a thankful look. “Yes, he’s in his office.”

“I’m going to kill him. Ignore the screams.”

“Of course, ___.”

You move through the Seat of Divine Foresight with a mission. Mimi makes a sound akin to disappointment, padding after you. Despite you being away the last few months, it still isn’t unusual for you to visit. You get along well with most of the staff, even. Plus, you’re the only one that seems to be able to talk sense into the general. Some jokingly say that you’re the only one who can tame the man, which always earns an eye roll from you. You don’t even knock before you enter Jing Yuan’s office, and the white-haired general blinks at you sleepily, a lazy smile gracing his lips. You could throttle him, you’re sure of it.

“Ah, ___! You’ve returned. How was your trip?” Jing Yuan asks, and after Mimi has entered the office, you shut the door, storm up to Jing Yuan and place your hands down on his desk, leaning over it to glare at the man. “Ooh… you don’t look happy. What have I done this time?”

“Stop siccing your pet on others!” you snap. Mimi senses your fury and opts to head towards a large pet bed in the corner of Jing Yuan’s office. “And for goodness sake, Mimi is a perfectly fine name. Don’t go changing it on them!”

“But Qingzu does such a good job of feeding and watering Wave-Treading–” Your glare darkens, “Apologies, Mimi. And Qingzu hasn’t complained–”

“You are taking advantage of your position as arbiter general, Jing Yuan. How is she going to complain to you, her superior, about how her superior is taking advantage of his position to make her take care of his pet?! If the next time I visit, Qingzu looks as tired as they do today, I’m going to personally drag you to her by your ear and make you apologize.”

Jing Yuan begins grinning cheekily, as though the idea amuses him. “Well, that doesn’t sound so bad…”

“Oh, really?” you reply dryly, moving around the desk and reaching for Jing Yuan’s ear. The man dodges, easily catching your wrist in his hand and tugging you towards him. “I thought you said it didn’t sound so bad.”

“Mmm… But this isn’t the next time you’ve visited. You haven’t yet given me an opportunity to rectify my previous actions,” Jing Yuan pouts. You roll your eyes, moving to sit on the man’s desk. “Though, I don’t particularly mind the idea of your manhandling me.”

Your face heats up. “Don’t talk like that, Yuan!”

He seems to relish in your embarrassment, standing from his desk and leaning in close to you with a spark of mischief in his eyes. “Talk like what, ___?”

“You know what I mean, General,” you grumble, pushing his shoulder. You’re not unused to being physically close to the man— you grew up together, after all. But this feels… different than usual.

“I missed you while you were away,” Jing Yuan tells you genuinely. “Mimi missed you as well. It was incredibly cute how they followed you in here.”

“Don’t change the subject. You were the one that accidentally adopted a pet lion so—“

He leans in again. “Did you not miss me?”

You feel your heart speed up. “Why are you being so… clingy, Jing Yuan? This isn’t the first time we’ve been apart.”

“Normally you don’t leave the Luofu,” Jing Yuan sighs, resting his head on your shoulder and loosely wrapping his arms around you in a hug.

Your ears feel hot and you have no idea why. This wasn’t the first time Jing Yuan hugged you like this. Why did it feel different now? His unruly hair tickles your cheek, and you hesitantly hug him back. “You’re not going to avoid this conversation forever, you know.”

Jing Yuan hums, nuzzling you, then releases you from his hold with a relaxed expression. “Should I get Qingzu to bring tea—“

“No! I’ll make it myself,” you huff, hopping off the desk and heading towards the door. “I’ll be back in a few moments, and then we’re having a long talk about how you should be treating the ones who work under you.”

“So long as I also get to hear about your trip, then that sounds fine to me.”

~*~

Some of Jing Yuan’s employees had invited you out. They said it was to thank you for helping them deal with the General.

Since your return to the Luofu, the dozing general had stopped giving his subordinates Mimi-related tasks and was handling them himself (although Qingzu was given a raise to continue handling Mimi’s food and water when Jing Yuan was tending to business away from the Seat of Divine Foresight). You personally assisted Jing Yuan with the budget and planning of Mimi’s meals— Mimi did not need fancy cuts of meat and also did not get nearly as much exercise as a wild lion. Therefore, Mimi’s diet was adjusted to suit its lifestyle. Which was, thankfully, much more affordable for the man.

Jing Yuan’s sudden change in behavior in regards to his pet coinciding with your timely return had essentially made you a living legend to all who worked at the Seat of Divine Foresight. So, not seeing a reason to refuse, you joined them for food and drinks at a nearby establishment.

A few hours have passed since you joined them… and you have had far too much to drink. It wasn’t entirely your fault, though. Everyone was offering you drinks and you had trouble telling them no. When you stand to use the restroom, things feel a bit wobbly, and the edges of your vision blur a bit.

Qingzu steadies you. She looks a bit worried. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” you laugh. “Just had a bit too much to drink. Be right back.”

After your restroom visit, as you head back to your table where the others are, Jing Yuan enters the eatery. His hair is down, he’s dressed in gray pants and a dark red linen shirt, and the moment he sees you he smiles.

“Yuan!” You greet him cheerfully, taking his hands in yours and smiling up at him. “I didn’t realize you were coming!”

The general notes how you seem a bit off balance, how your eyes can’t seem to focus, and how unguarded your smile is. Ah. You’re drunk. “Qingzu mentioned it to me, so once I was finished with Mimi I came over.”

“Everyone’s been buying me drinks and stuff,” you tell him with a grin. “How much trouble did you put them through while I was away?”

Jing Yuan gazes down at you, feigning innocence. “Oh, I don’t think it was that much.”

“The amount of glasses I’ve been handed tells me otherwise.”

“They could be handing you drinks because of how cute you are,” Jing Yuan offers. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you like this. Perhaps I should thank everyone.”

“You look smaller without your armor.”

Jing Yuan nearly trips over his own feet, and the look of genuine surprise on his face at your unexpected comment causes you to laugh. “I… didn’t expect that.”

“I mean, you’re not a small person by any means, but it’s been awhile since I’ve seen you outside of your armor. I like it, you look cute,” you begin to ramble. “You’re always cute, though. Except you always seem tired now, so I feel bad wanting to spend time with you since I know you should rest. And you need to get your bangs trimmed, because it’s hard to see both your eyes. They’re very pretty, you know.”

Your best friend begins to laugh, placing his hands on your shoulders and moving to stand in front of you. He looks down at you with an amused, happy grin on his face. “My dear, if you keep talking like that, people are going to get the wrong idea. Come now, let’s return to the others and let them know we’re leaving… I am suddenly feeling awfully tired, and would rather spend my off-time with you privately.”

“But you just arrived! Shouldn’t you have a drink with everyone too?”

Jing Yuan leans down, his voice low. “Oh, I don’t think it would be wise for me to be drinking tonight.”

A shiver runs down your spine, and you agree with a hint of uncertainty. Jing Yuan keeps a hand on your back, guiding you towards the employees of the Seat of Divine Foresight, and thanks everyone for treating you and being so welcoming as you follow the general’s lead, being guided to his estate and led inside where Mimi greets you.

Yuan brings you water, and you rest on the floor, using the pet lion as a pillow while you sober up. Your best friend sets himself up next to you, also resting himself on Mimi lazily, and he gazes at you with a softness that makes you feel warm inside. You reach out with both hands and pet Jing Yuan’s hair with a cackle.

The man catches your wrists in one hand, chuckling, and you feel your chest tighten as you stare into his golden eyes and see his boyish grin.

Oh.

Oh no.

His free hand reaches down to ruffle your hair, and you take the opportunity to lower your head and hide your expression. Your face and ears feel hot, feeling mortified by how touchy you’ve been with him— has it just been you being friendly, or were you subconsciously gravitating towards him because you’re attracted to him? And you feel guilty. Because Jing Yuan has always been a good friend to you— your best friend. But maybe you haven’t been thinking of him as a friend— you’ve overstepped. You’ve hugely overstepped.

You ask for more water, your throat feeling even dryer, and Jing Yuan stands to go grab some for you. When he returns and you take the glass, the man gazes at you a bit worriedly and asks if you feel okay.

You don’t.

This realization has made you feel sick, and your head and your heart are starting to hurt because you have drunk way too much and you feel like you have taken advantage of your friendship with your best friend to be so close to him. And he’s sweet, he’s so sweet, rubbing your back as you place your head between your legs and try to sort out your thoughts and blame your nausea on all the alcohol and not your internal crisis.

He doesn’t want you heading home while you aren’t feeling well, even though you insist on it. So you end up sleeping in his guest room with Mimi.

You don’t get much sleep.

~*~

Jing Yuan can tell that you’re avoiding him.

After that night, you seem to only visit Mimi at the Seat of Divine Foresight when he has responsibilities elsewhere. If he sends you a text you respond much like normal, but attempts to call you go straight to voicemail. When he asks you to visit him, or if he can visit you, you’re always too busy, which might have been true… but you still seemed to have time to visit Mimi. Then, the last time he chanced to see you in the markets, you mysteriously disappeared, when before you would cheerfully greet him and chat for a bit.

The Arbiter General feels a tad neglected.

Not wanting this to go on any longer, he decides to drop by your estate unannounced. If you really are just busy, then he will apologize for his rudeness… but Jing Yuan feels that there is something wrong because this feels different.

At your estate, he sees you sitting in the garden under the maple tree with numerous envelopes surrounding you. As soon as you see him, your eyes widen and you stand. “General! What are you doing here?”

General.

Before, his title was only used to tease him. You are not currently teasing him. Still, he stays level headed and places a smile on his lips. “Am I not allowed to visit a friend?”

“I mean, you are… but I’m very busy, see?” You hold up one of the many envelopes surrounding you as Jing Yuan approaches. The General picks up one of the open documents, and you try to snatch it from his hands, horrified. “Don’t— those are personal!”

The General clenches his jaw as he reads over the letter. “These are courtship requests,” he states, voice flat.

You look down at your hands, feeling embarrassment coming off you in waves. “Yeah. I’m looking into them. They’ve been piling up since I returned— apparently I’ve caught the eye of many artisan families.”

The General crosses his arms. Jing Yuan feels… resentful. He isn’t surprised that you have received courtship requests— you’re hardworking, kind, and attractive. However, you have never shown an interest in dating before, happy with his friendship and building positive relationships with the staff at the Seat of Divine Foresight. And your business relationships were all going well from his understanding. Yet, suddenly you’ve taken an interest in more?

A possessive, primal part of him wants to tear up all the requests and make you only see him. After all, no one could care for, cherish, love you more than he has these past few centuries. But the other part of him is just hurt. “And these potential suitors… matter more than spending time with me?”

“No!” You shake your head frantically, reaching for his wrist, then faltering before you actually touch him.

This won’t do. Jing Yuan thinks, frowning. You had never held yourself back from touching him before. But now, you’re lowering your shaky hands down to your side, refusing to meet his gaze and staring down at the ground. “Dearest, what’s wrong?” He asks, concern lacing his words as he reaches out to hold your hand.

You step back, barely dodging him, holding your hands to your chest, and when your eyes lock onto his he can see it— fear. You’re scared and Jing Yuan has no idea why. The white-haired man’s golden eyes widen, and he feels his throat tighten uncomfortably.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt, hiding your face in your hands. You seem so small like this. Jing Yuan hasn’t seen you this scared since… since Yingxing was mara struck. “Please don’t touch me, Jing Yuan. I can’t— I don’t think I can handle it right now, it's too much.”

“___…”

“I’m so, so sorry,” you tremble, now wiping your eyes as tears form. “Please don’t be mad. It’s all my fault, I’m sorry. I’m just looking into them to try and fix things, then I can be around you again.”

Jing Yuan steps forward, grabbing your wrists and forcing you to stop hiding from him. You weakly try to tug yourself free as you cry, and Jing Yuan lowers the two of you to the ground, kneeling in front of you. “Tell me what’s wrong, ___. Please. I can’t stand to see you like this.”

“I’ve been a terrible friend,” you sniffle, staring into Jing Yuan’s eyes. You look pained, and he wipes away your tears with his thumbs. “I’ve been hugely overstepping and taking advantage of our friendship, and it’s unfair to you, and I’m so, so sorry.”

Jing Yuan releases your wrists and pulls you into his chest, hugging you close. “You have never taken advantage of our friendship,” he assures, but you shake your head as you melt into his hold, clinging to him like a lifeline.

“Even now,” you cry. “I can’t stop thinking— My heart shouldn’t feel like it’s about to burst because you’re here. I’m so happy that you’re here, and I feel so guilty, because I still want more. It’s selfish. I should be happy with just this, I shouldn’t want to be closer to you— when did I start wanting to be closer?!”

His hold tightens on you, and his heart beats faster. You’ve realized it. You’ve finally realized it. Jing Yuan can’t help it, even as you’re crying and rambling into his chest, he grins. And, Aeons, he’s going to take his time with you. Everything has hit you all at once, but he’s been patient for centuries.

It’s time for him to be selfish.

“Trust me, ___,” he chuckles into your ear, pulling back and smiling down at you with half-lidded eyes barely concealing his joy. “You aren’t being selfish at all.”

#honkai jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan #honkai star rail #blade is yingxing #hsr spoilers #hsr writing #self ship #self indulgent fanfic

223 notes · View notes

unabashednightmarepizza · 1 year

Text

𝑂𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝐿𝑜𝑠𝑡, 𝑁𝑜𝑤 𝐹𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑; Part 1

Summary: Having to work with Mexican Special Forces to take down a terrorist group so that they wouldn't bomb a place and make them chicken nuggets, you had to return to where once you lost the two dearest friends you had.... People that could have been more, if your life worked out differently.

A/N: Reader's codename "Night" is entirely made up by me.... And excuse my bad attempt at accents.

A/N: Though I'm mew to this... REQUESTS ARE OPEN FOR COD: MW2

¹: Do I sound like I'm a newcomer to you, Colonel?

²: All those informations couldn't have been uploaded to my brain in my mother's womb, no?

Pairings: Alejandro Vargas x Fem!Reader x Rodolfo Parra( romantic), Task Force 141( platonic) , hints on GhostSoap

"Ouch, Soap! Come on, be a bit gentle man!"

"If ya stopped fo' a second, I wouldn' have to be harsh." You groaned under Soap's teasing eyes and Ghost's irritated yet still soft staring while the plane you three had to take was bringing you to Mexico, somewhere you never thought you would have missed at all. The mission you three took before this was kind of a disaster. The raid in Al-Mazrah and trying to get a hold of Hassan was a hardwork, between the many snipers protecting the building even though there was no one and learning that Hassan already fled out, made all three of you, to put it simply, mad.

Like mad,mad.

Sure, Soap tried to mask it with his god-awful jokes while Ghost just stared at the ground with his usual and deadly, unreadable Ghost-stare, as you called it... You were only able to sit straight thanks to Soap for his help with bandaging your wound on your side and give him a bright smile- one that the team would make fun of since the brightness of it was the polar opposite of your nickname.

All bright and shining smile, on the Night's face...

Hissing through the slight pain that went through your spine in little electroshocks, you got up and sat down next to Simon, slightly leaning back with your legs kicking the air aimlessly. You didn't have to talk, and neither of you liked it when one spoke only to crush a comforting silence, you just laid your hand on his thigh with a reassuring smile. You knew the tendency he had, blaming himself for one single failure when he won against many people.

But the battles he was apparently fighting inside was far harsher and tougher to him.

Ghost really lived up to his name, he was like a ghost. No face, no backstory... And if you weren't the one of the few that was lucky to gain his trust, you wouldn't know his real name or that slight show of half of his face whenever he would smoke around you.

Why do you never let us call you Simon, you once asked him while you were eating your sandwich while he was smoking next to you outside. A peaceful night it had been, apart from Price nagging you to eat healthy when the lungs of that man was like a coal. The man you think I am, Simon, is long dead. Here, I'm only Ghost, he gruffly replied to your question after finishing and pulled his hood up while his feet kicked the pebbles, not looking up at your innocent-eating visage that stopped mid-action and a sad pout settled in. You didn't say much after that, sensing that it was something very sensitive for him...

And though, he still didn't fully trust you with his story... It was okay as long as he was comfortable around you.

"Get your shit together, bestie! We're landing soon enough!"

"I'm not your bestie, Night- what the hell does that even-"

"Oh, shit! Look at this, Soap! We're in Mexico already!" Soap grinned at your enthusiasm while Ghost groaned, a smile staying hidden beneath his balaclava. The Scottish man let out an amused how you seemed happy and excited even after a tough mission and a rough wound, looking down at the green scenery like a kid having her first vacation, but looked out the window anyways, kinda getting where it was coming from.

But the next words that left your mouth made even Ghost look up at you curiously.

"Damn, It's been a long time since I've been back here! Feels like nostalgy..."

"Wait, you... you're from here?"

"Uhh, kinda? After my parents died, my uncle who used to live close to here, Las Almas, took me in and raised me until I was 14 or something..." your voice got relatively silent in the end and a sad frown rested on your face, a sight that neither of the men had ever seen.

It was obvious that the rest of that story, your story, was gonna get darker from here. It was always like that for everyone in the military, no one really had a good, white-fenced family life...

One way or another, all of the troubled ones got sweeped in the military work.

"What happened then? How did you end up in the USA?" Soap asked the only question that was ringing in both of their heads, thinking-and hoping- that what they thought wasn't the case.

And knowing this, and seeing it on their hopefull gazes, you turned to look out the window one last time before the plane landed, and a harder look settled in. "He died in front of my eyes, Laswell was there for an operation and tried to stop the one who killed him... Apparently she failed, and as a repentance I believe, she took me in."

"So you haven't been here ever since than?" Soap asked curiously when you sat down to buckle up while the plane started to lower down. Your brows knitted, mind racing to find a memory if you had been there but when nothing came, you shook your head as no. "Nope, that's the first time... Oh, the amount of irritating Spanish jokes I'm going to make to irritate those guys, hehehe..."

Ghost only sighed at your evil cackle, rolling his eyes when Soap's eye beamed at the idea. And you smiled even wider when his eyes met yours with the same amount of mischief but soon dropped when he eyed you sadly. "I woulda wanted to join, but I don' know Spanish, lass..."

You grunted angrily, shuffling on your seat that was more like a cat kneading a soft blanket which made him chuckle and ruffle your hair. "Don't worry, Soap! Spanish isn't that hard that I'm sure you will learn a few words when we leave here-AND STOP MESSING MY HAIR! JUST BECAUSE I'M IN MILITARY DOESN'T MEAN I DON'T CARE MY LUXUR....."

Ghost would never admit, rather die, but he only tolerated yours because you were the only one who was brave enough to bitch out the General while being completely unfazed and playing a game on your phone.

Alejandro, to say it simply, didn't expect to see a woman in the team that was coming to Mexico. Laswell didn't say anything and just said cheekily I'm sending you someone just like you, Colonel...

But seeing an angry woman, who was dwarfed in the middle of two huge men and represented more of a chihuahua, was definetly a good change.

And up until the plane landed, and even when the doors opened, you didn't stop complaining and yelling at Soap-who was busy not to cackle at every angry face gesture you did- while Ghost was walking ahead, fed up by you two's stupidity.

And it was amusing to watch you hit bulky man who was able to throw you over his shoulder.

"Sergeant Mactavish, Colonel Night!" A booming voice made you both stop playing with each other and look ahead to see the serious-looking man greeting you with a handshake, both of you nodding in gratitude at his respect to you not using your real name. It was no use, after all, with giving your name away so carelessly.

One of the rate things you and Ghost agreed on.

Alejandro shook Ghost's hand as well, the colossal Titan-like man nudging you to move with the tip of his gun harshly after Soap being a little bitch, as he called it.

While the said-man was busy with fucking up with Ghost.

"Actually, I believe he prefers to be-" you bit down your lip hard at what Soap was about to say, a snort still leaving you when Ghost yelled at him to stop since he knew you both were about to ridicule him for letting you two tease him.

What was the bad that would come with telling every single person you met that the killer-machine of a colossal Ghost liked to be called babygirl, after one of your babygirlfying sessions?

The three men already started to speak to themselves about Hassan and Shepherd, and though you knew it was selfish... You just wished you came here for a vacation and not a mission, the sound of the General's name being enough to make you even more mad then before.

And remembering the last convo you had with your adoptive mother, Laswell, only fueled that anger.

"Mom, I'm telling you that there is something wrong with the way the General acts!"

"What could possibly be wrong with him, Y/N! He is the General-"

"That's the point! He only asks about where the missiles are, and I bet my 1000 dollars that it's because he wants to have a power in his hands and not to save humans!"

That man is bad news, and if I can get more info maybe before he kills me, I can-

You knew that Laswell was heavily loyal to him, and she never questioned him or his morals but though she never saw it, you saw how an evil smile would come to him at the mere mention of killing or sacrificing men, soldiers who had families, hopes, dreams...

And you knew, that he knew what you had been doing from his back by collecting evidence and that he was already planning to kill you.

"Hey, lass... You good?" Soap called to you when he realized that you no longer walked with them and you shook your head immediately, jogging up to them before getting in the car after Soap.

"Yeah, no worries. I'm sorry for dozing, just thinking of how I'll get my hands on someone after we're done and have a fun night out- Oh, hey!" You grunted noncholantly, while Alejandro raised a brow at you curiously and Ghost pushed you into the car forcefully but you still had a beaming smile to the man sitting in the driver seat, offering a hand while the said-man was watching you three curiously, accepting the kindness nonetheless.

"Hey, not a good first impression on our teammates, Ghost!"

"Do I look like I give a damn? Get in!"

"Okay, Jesus fine. Stop being an ass..." you grunted in pain while plopping down on the seat, being squished by the two bulky men who opened their legs a bit wider than usual to fit in and though you normally wouldn't give a damn...

Right now you couldn't breathe.

And it definetly wasn't because of the most gorgeous two men you ever saw-

"Look, guys, as much as I love you, move your legs away from my tiny self 'kay? I know I don't have balls between my legs but be a gentleman and shoo your legs away!"

Rodolfo widened his eyes at what you said, watching the two men grunt and apologize while doing so and looked over to his boyfriend to see if he was the only one being shocked when he caught Alejandro's sigh, him muttering she's like that before cleaning his throat to introduce him.

"This is my second in command Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra." Alejandro introduced his boyfriend with a proud smile, the man at the recieving end smiling bashfully at him before giving a nod over to your trio, which you also did the same and squeezed your eyes questioningly at him.

After hearing his name, you turned your questioning eyes to the man, suddenly feeling like you knew them. The shape of his nose, the way he smiled and touched his face when he first met you...

"Is something wrong, Colonel?" Rodolfo questioned hesitantly, the doubting face you did setting his nerves up to the roof while Alejandro looked back and stared at you back, protective eyes raking through your face until you gave a huge smile and shook your head, hands waving dismissively.

He couldn't be your best friend from years ago... that would be shit kinda insane, right?

"No, no... You just remind me of someone, I don't know who though. Sorry, if I made you uncomfortable." You leaned back on the seat with an unreadable gaze, lips thight and a kind of approving face yet smiled at him.

"That's not a problem, thank you." he nodded at you kindly, and turned back to the road ahead.

While both him and Alejandro thought why their hearts beated erratically at the sight of you smiling.

"They're not angry, Soap..."

"But they are yelling! They must be angry-" you sighed at his persistence as if he was the one who once lived here, and if the look on Alejandro's face said anything, it would be the same as yours.

"Look, It's a Mexican thing! Their blood runs hotter and wilder than the rest of the human population which makes their vocal cords stronger. Trust me, no one is actually angry here." You explained bored, your head on Soap's shoulder while you played with his hands idly, him turning his palm up for you to have better access. Alejandro slightly turned to look back at you, somehow with jealous and irritated eyes- thinking that it was because you two were being intimate while on mission, when you two weren't together at all, unknown to them-while Rodolfo's eyes found your face in the rear mirror with a confused look.

At both your knowledge, and the closeness you had with the Scottish man.

"For a newcomer, you know our people a lot-" Soap's eyes shone when you lifted your head with a teasing smile and side eyed him, the moment you had been waiting for was finally here and it was your time to shine...

Damn, I wish my phone was on my hand...

" ¿Le parezco un recién llegado, coronel?"¹ you smirked cheekily at their astonished face, almost laughing out loud when Rodolfo lost the control of the vehicle which resulted with Ghost yelling loudly while the poor man apologized before his eyes found yours. "You speak Spanish?!"

" Toda esta información no pudo cargarse en mi cerebro en el vientre de mi madre, ¿no?" ² Rodolfo chuckled, trully seeing what Laswell meant when she said that one of the members would be much like Alejandro, a genuine smile creeping on his lips while Alejandro let out a loud laugh and smile.

Smiles that died down quickly when they realized that their eyes lingered on you longer and longer.

He and Rodolfo, ever since he lost the third piece of themselves, never smiled that much. Life was never easy to them ever since, between protecting Las Almas and its people, taking care of each other and healing their wounds that would never trully heal, they never had the chance to be themselves and have fun.

Not when they lost the girl they both fell hard for, their third piece Y/N Y/L/N...

The only person they saw them fighting shoulder to shoulder with...

Even swore on their blood...

Only for it to be broken with you, someone they tought that would never abondon them, disappearing without a trace.

Both Alejandro and Rodolfo's hand touched their chest, where they had their rings was hidden beneath, to have some comfort and feel you even if you weren't here anymore. Alejandro and Rodolfo, when they bought the promise rings, also brought one for the person who took their hearts with herself and probably died, thinking that you would have loved the idea. And occasionally, they would exchange it between each other when the other needed to feel it.

To feel you.

This time it was around Rodolfo's neck and he momentarily squeezed it, battling the tears to go away. This, the want to cry and the feeling of something clawing inside his chest, never happened in the almost 20 years that he had been dealing with his loss...

And he didn't like the reminder of what should have been.

Meanwhile, you and Soap was busy with gossiping between each other while giggling at the chaos that happened a few minutes ago so intensely that you didn't realize the looks Ghost was giving you. "You wanna bet if they're engaged?"

"Nah, lass, I'm one hundred per cent sure that they're married."

"Can you two not shut up and talk about the mission once?" Ghost butted in on your gossip harshly when you both looked at him offended.

"No?" You both whisper yelled at Ghost and he grunted, turning to look out the window while you patted Soap's arm with a bright idea. "How about I ask?"

"Are ya crazy? We just met these people, where do ya get the courage-"

"Live, laugh, don't give a fuck, Soap! That easy, and I'm betting my 100 bucks." You all-knowingly said, already seeing the wide smile and beam on Soap's face.

"100? Damn I'm in!" You gave a childish smile and scooted closer to the two men sitting in front, at this point you could have just squeezed yourself in between the empty space in the middle because of the intense pull you had. Alejandro stressed you a bit though, even when you are the mostly unfazed one. So, you turned to Rodolfo while the man gave you a curious yet amused side look.

"Do you have a question?" You smiled at his soft voice, already feeling a little bit more eased, and looked at him with the softest eyes Soap and Ghost had ever seen on you.

"Yes, actually... I was wondering, when you said you both grew here... How long has it been?"

"Close to 35, I guess..." he gave a thoughtful hum, voice lost in nostalgia when his hand slithered up his vest again which caught your attention but soon was broken when he met your eyes from the rear mirror. "Why do you ask?"

"Ah, I just grew up somewhere close to here. I was curious whether we met or not since here is a small place. Especially after your face reminding me of... someone from my past."

You frowned sadly, a blank stare setting on your features. One that Rodolfo decided that didn't suit your bubbly self. "I'm sorry, for causing pain to you. But if I met you, we would have remembered... Right Alejandro?"

The man only gave a grunt, and watched you talk sweetly with his boyfriend with a heavy heart. He wasn't jealous, and that was what shocked him. Normally, as someone who had trust issues who was in a relationship, he expected to be jealous of you and how close you were getting with both him and Rudy. When many women and men tried their chances with either of them, or both of them, they both declined them harshly. They would never taint the memory of you, your touch on their faces and bodies...

Only Alejandro was the one to break that by getting with Valeria, a name they despised after years. A name that Alejandro would never forgive himself for giving himself over when he wanted it to be with Y/N and Rudy.

And it was because of his stupidity that he almost lost the last person he had.

And though he felt like he tainted your memory again, with how he was being with the woman in the car... He felt like curling up and crying like he did many times when he remembered.

But he also couldn't deny the way you fitted... so well with them.

You smiled to him, unaware of his inner turmoil, mindful of putting some distance between yourself and Rudy- taking the frown on Alejandro's face as jealousy, before dropping the bomb. "Then, I'm just gonna ask it away: Are you two engaged?"

Both of their faces fell in shock, both of them yelling over the other to prove that they weren't indeed together. They had been so careful until now, with never showing anyone their biggest weakness and especially the trio that just came-

Really, how did you know this before anyone?

"Where did you get the idea from, colonel?"

"Ah there we go with her deductions..." sighed Ghost irritatedly while Soap was busy crying internally at the amount he lost to you.

Even when Price clearly warned him to never challenge you.

You smiled giddily and cracked your knuckles and neck with excpectation before diving in to your Sherlock Holmes obsession, which was learning the ways of the Art of Deduction. "There is a whiter place on both of your left hands, meaning that you used to wear a ring and by the size of it, I'm assuming it to be either wedding rings or engagement rings. But you two are still looking at each other as if you want to eat the other so it's definetly not wedding and... The bedroom eyes here is intense, man."

"We-We don't do that, Colonel-" Rudy stuttered in embarrassment, the sight would have made you coo teasingly but since they were in a relationship- which was a disappointment on your end, kinda- you smiled and shook your head.

"Yes, you do. That's okay, really. I deal with the two men behind me doing it x10 worse..." your voice died down before Ghost would have hit your back when the car stopped near two corpses, bloody and covered with some insults and threats on the cover. Alejandro turned to look, since he didn't see what it was with his whole body turned to you to look at your face more closely and a sad look found his eyes at the young people laying in those covers. The sight disturbed you, and even if you couldn't admit it...

The frown of Alejandro hurted you more.

"You might want to sit back, Night. This sight-"

"I've seen worse, Colonel, trust me... But what's written on them? What are those?" Your voice hardened, the cold tone Soap and Ghost had seen you use when torturing someone came, and they watched just as sadly.

Not as obviously as you, since they mostly knew how to conceal their emotions.

And since they didn't have a personal grudge like you.

"Narcomantas..."

"Cartel clothes..." translated Rodolfo for the two behind you, his eyes trained on you and how you scrunched your nose at the scene before you sadly, the empathy you had for them even after being gone from here for such a long time, his heart softened at the sight and his hand twitched to touch your forehead to erase that frown when the thoughts shook him to his core and he cleared his throat, letting Alejandro continue with a hard, determined look while turning to look at the road.

"Messages from El Sin Nombre. Warnings marking territory. Our streets are laced with death... El Sin Nombre, The Nameless, is the leader of the Las Almas Cartel. No one can find him, but he is everywhere... But Los Vaqueros like challenges." He explained throughly what had been plaguing this town while you plopped down next to Ghost, completely loosing your mood at what had been going on in the place you grew up.

How much these people suffered.

"With your mask, you will fit in well here Ghost..." you knew Rodolfo meant it in a good way, no vicious comments, especially after that scene you left behind, but you also knew how this mask was a sensitive topic for Ghost. So, both you and Soap snapped your heads up and made gestures for him to stop since neither of you wanted Simon to explode and Alejandro, catching on its sensitive side, shushed Rodolfo who gave a sheepish smile to both of you.

And seeing the tension rise again, you gave a kind smile to him before nudging Soap who looked at you curiously. You smirked teasingly, head pointing to Alejandro and Rodolfo with a shit-eating grin. "Take notes on that, will ya?"

"Oh God, woman... You're the worst."

"Damn right, I am. You gotta ask how they did it before we leave and I want my 100."

He groaned and looked out the window when they took a turn to reach where Hassan was hiding while both Mexicans looked at you with smiles.

Both sides unaware of the chaos that would happen in the next hours...

Who would have known that mission would reveal secrets you had been keeping to yourself?

But at what cost?

And who would have known that Rudy and Alejandro would have what they once lost?

#rodolfo x reader #rodolfo rudy parra x reader #rodolfo parra x reader #rodolfo parra #rodolfo parra x you #alejandro x reader x rudy #alejandro x reader #alejandro cod #alejandro mw2 #alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas x reader #cod imagine #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod mwii #alejandro x rodolfo #alejandro vargas x rodolfo parra #call of duty x reader #call of duty modern warfare

472 notes · View notes

gohannygo · 25 days

Text

Emerie lore speculation post?!! :O

Okay guys this is my little gift to myself for finishing my school work on time. Also like low key regardless if you agree or not, drop your Emerie predictions/thoughts in the comments— because for whatever reason my brain has attached itself to her, but she has like 5 mins of screen time and vary little discourse surrounding her :D

Okay guys I’m get real with you, I don’t think Emerie was created as an enhanced clone, or with some kind of special ability. I think she was made to be as plain and reg-like as possible.

Based on Nala Se’s reaction to Omega’s blood being sampled and tested, we can assume she knew and maybe even was responsible for Omegas ability to support an M-count. What I think happened was, Nala se was like “Oh oops it appears I have gotten emotionally attached to this child so I’m keeping her as my own, but I dont wanting any snoopers out there to trying to figure out whats so special about her,” so she created Emerie as a decoy of sorts. Essentially a female version of a reg to send out to the world to prove that theres no reason for anyone to inquire about Omega because look how regular female clones are. Like in a super heartbreaking way, my theory is that Emerie was essentially made to have no identity. To be an obedient little placeholder to take attention away from Omega’s existence.

Wow thats cool but why does it matter?

OKAY so throughout the premiere we saw that maybe there was some trouble in Tantiss paradise for Emerie. Shes been content(?) with complying and doing what is asked of her up until this point, but we saw her be willing to break rules for Omega’s sake, and we also saw how shaken she looked when Hemlock was like “Return to the lab, Dr. Karr”. She also looked like she was really pondering things at the end of episode three when she discovered Omega’s ability to support an M count transfer.

I think maybe during the rest of the season we’ll see her start to grapple with what she really wants to do here, as (I believe, in her own little way), she now has a sister she cares about and wants to protect. I think Omega, through her doll making and Batcher taming, has shown Emerie a little bit of light. That clones can have their own wants, and makes choices based off of them. But really, I don’t think a person who has presumably grown up being conditioned to follow rules and see herself as property would be able to quickly break out of that rigid structure shes used to and make a personal choice to try and keep Omega safe in a significant way.

What? Okay please just bear with me. Wording things is not my forte.

I think Nala Se will see an opportunity to further get in the head of an already torn Emerie. I think she might reveal her original purpose of essentially being made to protect omega. And emerie, who already sort of sees herself as a tool to being used for some greater purpose, will then feel almost like shes been given “permission” to disobey. Sort of like “Oh damn, not only is this something I want to do, but more importantly it was the purpose I was designed for yassssss”. I think she will continue acting as normal but will basically be a shooter on the inside for Omega and it will build up to her sabotaging further experimentation done on Omega if shes captured.

Idk if this makes sense or is dumb. But I just think it could be a cool avenue. Because we’ve seen clones grapple with what theyve done under imperial command and have seen some of them change their ways which is awesome. And, I think it could also be cool to see a character whos been so shaped by her upbrining, and doesnt have that soldier-ly sheer force of will to just defect. I think it could be cool to see someone go about a change of allegiance in a more roundabout way where they basically have to reason themselves through it because they arent equipped to do it any other way. But yeah its 2 AM now so goodnight.

Bonus: Here is an educational diagram I made of Emerie being “sent elsewhere” circa twentysomething BBY

#the bad batch #tbb #tbb emerie #tbb omega #emerie karr #And I feel like she has potential to be so girl coded in a ‘what am I outside of the purpose I’m meant to serve for other people’ way AHHHH

42 notes · View notes

narutocharacterpolls · 8 months

Text

ROUND THREE

MAITO GAI vs UMINO IRUKA

Reasons for submission under the cut

Gai

was instrumental in the success of the story - he may not have won against Madara, but he put fear in him and had it not been for hacks, he would have decimated him where no one else could

believes whole-heartedly in his student to the point of dedicating his life to making him a splendid ninja

came from nothing, worked his way up from nothing, and is now considered to be one of the greatest shinobi to have come out of the Hidden Leaf. People know and fear him

made Itachi bail. That man was ready to fight everyone else, but packed it up when Gai came on the scene

kicked Jiraiya in the face and never properly apologized

great salesperson - always has a spare jumpsuit to give to passers-by and hook them on his favorite brand. True influencer and fashion icon

had a bowl cut before it was cool

was a great friend to Kakashi, and was there for him during the highs and lows of his horrifically stressful life. Arguably saved Kakashi's life with his constant support, and the story could not have happened without him. Is considered by Kakashi - one of the most powerful and infamous shinobi in the world - to be his equal and his best friend

loves kids. Supports his own students like he was their father, and equally takes pride in Naruto and protected Sasuke after Sasuke's first run in with Itachi

in the anime, he is shown to be hard on the outside but clearly permissive in that he would sneak Chouji food in the middle of a mission and try to push Naruto into figuring out who Minato was

confident in himself and confident in others - he is everyone's biggest cheerleader and he isn't just talk; he'll work hard with you. When he says he'll do something, nothing will stop him and he will follow his promises even when no one is watching.

hot. Man has pretty privilege

amazing, supportive teacher and friend

he is always trying to be positive in such a dark world and cheer up those around him

he's so good to Lee, Tenten, and Neji, you can just tell how much he cares about those kids

his speech to Lee was super moving. He knew Lee was scared and made sure to be there for him

he was ready and willing to die to defeat Madara in order to save the others

an actual decent upstanding father figure

unbridled whimsy

excellent tits

Iruka

he is kind-hearted and soft and has a big heart

he always has a watchful eyes over his students. But he can also be stern if needed. He knows how cruel the world can be and wants to make sure his students are properly prepared for the dangers they'll face

he doesn't have prejudices against his students. No hostility towards Naruto who was often the victim of misplaced anger due to the Nine-Tails who was sealed within him. Thus, Iruka came to be one of the only adults Naruto respected in his youth as well as the only person who could control Naruto's behaviour to some degree

due to Iruka's more nurturing, protective and compassionate nature, Naruto views him as a mentor and Iruka in turn, views Naruto as a younger brother

he treats Naruto to ramen whenever Naruto returns from a mission, where Iruka gets to see how he is developing as a ninja

his refusal to allow Naruto to graduate at first was not out of spite, but merely out of caring strictness and a desire for Naruto to work harder and reach his own potential

has a great sense of duty, honour and selflessness as seen when he protected Naruto from an attack, suffering a shuriken wound in his back in order to protect him

he regards the children of the village as the backbone of their village, even being willing to sacrifice his own life to ensure their safety

Iruka to Naruto: "Stop acting like a baby! You want to know what I really think of you?! I think you're one of my most precious students… and… you're like a little brother to me."

he is Naruto's first mentor figure. He deserves more credit and screen time!

he's the only adult with a working brain

one of the few adults who sees Naruto as a human being not a God savior

is the only one who actually apologies to Naruto for treating him badly

one of the reasons Naruto turned out the way he did

he deserves a Reise

a nice father figure

#bestnrtcharapoll #naruto #polls #maito gai #gai maito #might guy #umino iruka #iruka umino #iruka sensei #id in alt text

137 notes · View notes

smokingasters · 4 months

Text

I watched some parts of First Inspector after Providence and a lot of stuff made sense. One was Sibyl's dialogue with Shindo and Asusawa about the criminally asymptomatic.

Sibyl is comprised of asymptomatic, who can either be saints or psychos. This was what Arata's dad Atsushi was hoping in Providence. Instead of becoming a part of Sibyl, Arata would choose to live on and work for the Ministry. Providence explains that Atsushi and Homura's father had placed bets and that Atsushi was an old player of Round Robin who essentially didn't just bet on Arata, but perhaps also Kei, Maiko, and Akira as well? It would make sense why Akira was displeased when he met Atsushi. Also clears up why Atsushi had to die, since Akira, the person he bet on died, Atsushi could not rejoin Round Robin to enlist Arata and it was Homura Shizuka who bet on Arata instead, won and dissolved Bifrost through the Sibyl System. It also makes sense why Kogami said this to Kei before beating him up (more under the cut)

It's because Akane said it to him. That they were a team and that he shouldn't try to do things alone. It also makes sense why Kogami worried that Akane should have not borne the 'crime' of killing Chief Kasei. (who makes an appearance in FI) in the FES Live Reading Drama. The strangest thing though, is Akane's clothes in FI.

Remind you of something?

Yeah. For some reason, this detail made me uneasy. Also in Providence I noted that Kasei did not flinch at all when Akane aimed the gun to kill her. She did not seem surprised, as though Chief had foreknowledge that Akane would do this.

In the Genesis (3-4) novels, the first Kasei Joshuu was made from two brains. Two criminally asymptomatic individuals, an Inspector who wanted to protect people and believed that humans would find a way to escape the bloodthirsty nature of Sibyl, and the second brain was of an ex-member of a terrorist group, who was the only successful case of being an artificially introduced criminal asymptomatic (not born asymptomatic but created through intensive experiments), who died respecting the Inspector's beliefs that some people found peace and happiness under the Sibyl System and did not destroy it. The two individual brains were fused into a single unit but they lost their sense of identity to form the Chief of the PSB.

This is the main reason Akane is favoured by Kasei Joshuu, because she reflects the combined ideals of these brains. Akane is allowed to return to the PSB as a statutory Enforcer and I think she will be assisting Homura, the new chief. S4 may have them working together, while Kogami continues working for the SAD in Dejima. Shizuka Homura is mysterious as heck, he's also kind of creepy, and his goals are unclear, so forgive me if I cannot trust him, yet. He risked his life to play Round Robin and its thanks to him that Akane is back, but is relationship with Sibyl makes me uneasy.

Homura's words eerily echo Akane's employment, as a statutory Enforcer. So she's 'free' but not really. But who the heck is completely free under Sibyl? I suppose, Akane's position is better because she's favoured by Sibyl and the System needs her to provide more upgrades. Akane is still persistent that the Law should exist, because she believes that its the Law that shall also protect Sibyl.

Does this mean S4 shall be the finale? Or do we have much more to go? Again, I only watched a few clips of FI, so my theory might be completely wrong, I shall have to rewatch S3 and FI entirely to make sense of how it connects to Providence. Your additions are welcome ❤️ and thank you for reading.

#psycho pass #psycho pass providence #psycho pass first inspector #shinya kougami #tsunemori akane #sibyl system #shizuka homura #arata shindo #kei mikhail ignatov #akane tsunemori

58 notes · View notes

hmshermitcraft · 3 months

Note

some scott x grian bc i saw it on here and thought it was a cute niche pairing. in this there was a longer time between each life series and certain events like double life and the empires cross over, so like the timings are inaccurate to the real world because basically i wanted them to be

(ordered youngest to oldest) Grian, Jimmy, Martyn, Pearl and Lizzie are all siblings and incredibly protective of each other. When Lizzie first introduced them to Joel, he was genuinely threatened by them all… until he realised they were all massive dorks. Joel became quick friends with Jimmy and Grian and got on well with Pearl and Martyn too, and was easily accepted into the family.

Most other partners are accepted in quickly too. To date, Tango had the worst time simply because Pearl and Grian would follow him around on Hermitcraft for weeks after finding out he was dating Jimmy. Beforehand, no one had started dating the friend of another sibling.

And no one had started to date a friend to every single sibling.

Scott had been a childhood friend to the whole group, growing up closest to Lizzie and Jimmy but staying in contact with everyone. Grian and Scott had never seemed particularly close but it made sense for Grian to invite Scott to be part of the life series, where they often ended up spending a lot of time together (when they allied against Renchanting in third life, or when Scott briefly allied with Grian and Joel on his red life in last life.) After the series would end, all the members would spend some time in a sort of after party world, where Grian and Scott seemed to spend a lot of time in deep conversation. Maybe because they were the first two winners, perhaps they’d bonded over shared trauma, maybe they just had some shared interests.

But eventually, as the pair get closer, they develop feelings for each other. They didn’t act on these feelings until after double life when Grian and other hermits got to visit empires. Grian still hadn’t planned on acting on his feelings, waiting for Scott to be the one to make a move…

but then he saw Tango and Jimmy reunite for the first time since Double Life. Jimmy was so happy, so was Tango. Grian wanted that. Pearl and Gem had each other, Martyn had Ren, Lizzie and Joel were together always and now Jimmy had Tango.

Maybe he was a bit jealous of his siblings, but in that moment he decided he’d had enough of dancing around their feelings. He stormed right to Scott’s door, knocking hard against the wood and desperately trying to ignore the anxiety that was breaking past his resolve to confess.

“Grian, uh, is everything ok?” Scott opened the door with a concerned expression. Grian was never particularly aggressive before, at least not to him.

And at that moment, Grian’s mouth moved faster than his brain and he blurted out, “You like me.”

The emperor frowned and blushed slightly, “Um… yes… Listen, Grian I’m-“

“I like you. We should go on a date.”

“Um. Ok.” Scott was a little dumbfounded but smart enough to know what he was supposed to say.

“Great.”

And before he could embarrass himself anymore, Grian flew off back in the direction of the rift and Hermitopia (honestly hoping for the rift to return just to let him run away from how embarrassed he was.)

But it didn’t. And needless to say the date went well, as he and Scott dated for over six months before the next life series rolled around.

“Hey, starship, I was wondering… um in the next game, should we try and be allies? Or would you rather we just played like usual and make sure we talk to each other?” Grian asked one evening as he lay playing with Scott’s hair with the other’s head resting against his legs.

“Hmm I think I’d rather see what happens and just make sure we communicate properly, rather than being a team and maybe making things more obvious. Is that alright with you, sunshine?”

Grian laughed and nodded, “Yeah, I’m gonna wait a little before we tell them… I love my family but they’re gonna be extra upset since you’ve been our friend since we were wee tots.”

“Yeah…” Scott sighed and moved so as he could lean against Grian fully, wrapping an arm over him. “I love you, I hope your family are ok with us being together.”

“They better be.”

Limited Life was a lot of fun. Scott got closer with Martyn which was nice, seeing as the two hadn’t seen each other properly for a while. And Martyn won! Scott was so proud of his teammate!

When they arrived at the after party, Grian was pacing around still in his bad boy attire. Something about your boyfriend being in a death game when you aren’t there is even more terrifying than having a friend or crush down there.

They don't want their relationship to affect the game - for better or worse. Grian is very aware Lizzie and Joel are all cutesy about it, Martyn is... Martyn whilst Jimmy and Tango tend to keep their relationship separate.

It adds an edge to the whole thing, though. Grian doesn't know how the others participate whilst knowing their partner is in there, possibly in danger, and there can't even help. It's awful! He'd pull Scott out, but that wouldn't be fair on either of them.

At least it makes the reunion all the sweeter. Grian knew Scott cared little for winning - he's a dork like that. Always giving others fair chances. But Grian didn't need a winner. He just needs to press his forehead against Scott's, holding him in a tight hug.

#trafficshipping #ask #grian tag #scott tag #martyn tag #joel tag #lizzie tag #jimmy tag #pearl tag #jizzie #scottrian #mod 🎀

41 notes · View notes

whatitshouldvebeen · 7 months

Note

Can I request Nubbins x fem reader? She has friends who don't want Nubbins near her because they don't like the way he is. But when Nubbins is with the reader it is pleasant because she does not judge him or treat him badly. How would he manage to have her all to himself and not let anyone ruin it?

I don't know if Nubbins would be possessive and rude like Johnny or if he is more passive...

Nubbins x Reader

The Only One that Counts

Contains; fluff, derogatory names

"Guys, cut it out," you say, shooting a glare at your two best friends.

"Seriously though, what do you see in him? Everything about him is weird, even his name. Who names their kid Nubbins?" Emily says, snickering.

"Maybe I like weird," you interject.

"For your birthday, he got you a dead possum with a lightbulb in its mouth. He's twisted," Joey adds, looking more concerned than anything.

You cross your arms. "That was cute! Pulling the tail turned it on. I named him Henry."

"You have a dead giant trash rat named Henry by your bed," Joey says flatly. "See why we're concerned?"

You shrug. "Not every girl wants chocolate and makeup. I like his little crafts. He's really creative."

"He's gonna turn you into a lamp next if you're not careful," Emily says. "I heard he cuts himself for fun."

"Guys, just stop. I'm happy with him, okay? Isn't that enough?"

Both Emily and Joey look incredulous, shaking their heads.

"Don't you see we're trying to protect you? That guy's whole family is messed up. Have you seen his giant brother? What if being a giant retarded freak runs in the family? Do you want giant retard freak kids running around the house?" Joey says, as if he could think of nothing worse.

"I'm tired of listening to this," you say, fuming. You stand up from the bench and glare at your friends before turning your back, a tear streaking down your cheek.

–

"Y-your friends want you to leave me?" Nubbins asks, cocking his head. The two of you are sitting in the sunflower fields as the sun rises, painting the sky pink. He doesn't seem upset, just curious.

"They think you're dangerous," you say, looking down at your joined hands and running your thumb over his. You can't bring yourself to tell him what they've said about his brother.

"W-well," Nubbins laughs, smiling. "I mean, I am. Grandpa wouldn't think I'm the best if I w-wasn't!" He pauses, then squeezes your hand. "But, 'course I'd never hurt you!"

"I know, Nubs, I'm just sad my friends are so judgmental," you say, sighing and leaning against his shoulder.

He uses his pocket knife to etch into the dirt between his feet, drawing your initials beside his. "Why does it matter w-what they think?" He pauses, looking up at you worriedly. "Y-you aren't gonna listen to them, are ya?" He asks, as if the notion hadn't occurred to him.

"No, of course not!" you soothe, instantly erasing the worried expression off his face. "I just don't like hearing them talk bad about you and your family."

"I could cut out their tongues!" he offers cheerily. "You ever had tongue pudding? It's real good!"

"No no, please don't," you giggle, and he laughs wildly, his whole body shaking beside yours.

Nubbins, still in a giggle fit, nuzzles at your ear before nipping it, making you laugh and shove him away. He lunges after you, tackling you to the dirt and touching your nose to his with a loud "boop!" A wild grin lights up his face, and you pull him down for a kiss, surprising the man into a fleeting moment of stillness.

When you break the kiss, he stares at you in a stupor before sense returns to his brain, and he blinks rapidly, his earlier grin returning. "Wow… sometimes I forget we can do that. Talk about crazy; your friends musta never had a kiss like that. Well, probably 'cause they never kissed you," he peters off, pure adoration in his eyes as he holds himself over you.

"You're so sweet, Nubbins," you say, kissing the tip of his nose. "I love you."

His face flushes pink, and he traces your lip with his thumb, cradling your face in his hand. "I l-love you too."

Nubbins doesn't care what anyone thinks but you. As long as he knows you love him, he will never get jealous.

#nubbins sawyer #tcm nubbins #nubbins x reader #tcm #tcm game #texas chainsaw massacre game #texas chainsaw massacre #hitchhiker tcm #hitchhiker x reader

86 notes · View notes

rrat-king · 4 months

Note

walk with me bird,,, thinking about kristen's lack of self preservation especially in sophmore year- she does crazy shit again and again and it is funny but like. when you actually look at it, its like this elaborate performance. so much going on in kristen's brain, losing her family, (we know she's clearly still thinking about it with the start of sy being her returning to her brothers) losing her religion and then recreating it and still feeling lost.

all her life being full and told that this is the thing- that will protect you as long as you are good so kristen is good and then realizes oh. i was meant for something terrible actually, my church who vowed to protect me is actually trying to make me a hellmouth. like oh. great well i dont feel safe in that anymore, im always arguing with my parents because even they are still polluted with their religion but she lets it go she tries to find something else. and then she ends fy with her new religion and immediately doesnt like it, over the summer it still doesnt click and she changes it again, she puts her faith or even lack of it at the forefront as she does these insane choices, like a leap of faith. like oh someone has got to save me if i do this- surely someone will. (also pushing my agenda of kristen's faith eventually forming into believing in her friends bc they are the ones who always save her not the gods even though i do love cass)

like ally talking about chaos not being cute anymore really makes me think of all this- because it's like kristen being like oh well if it goes wrong than at least it's some sort of relief from this pressure of being something and at least im not plagued with thinking about not being good enough for my own parents. like her being so not aggressive but trying to counter sandralynn too- like not wanting to view her as a parental figure but as a person. kristen like almost tries to parent her in a way which sounds weird but its very like she can't turn it off in her head because she's been raised with expectation so she does feel on the same level as adults when in reality she is not but kristen believes like oh i can solve this here maybe u shouldnt be doing this thing in her relationship. i think part of it is kristen not wanting to see a parent become better and then have to wonder why her's didn't. like was she not enough for them to want to me better. it's so complex i adore kristen's character and it kinda surprises me how often she becomes very 2d in the fandom but alas, many thoughts about her

i am absolutely walking with you. i love what your talking about with her dynamic with sandra lynn (which. i will always be crazy about her and sandra lynn they are just both so intersting in thier relationships) but yeah it makes a lot of sense that she doesn't know how to properly interact with her if you think about the amount of pressure she has been given to be a spiritual leader through church or if you hc her as a parentified older sister to her little brothers (which i do personally) so she's not thinking about her interaction with sandra lynn as like, a regular adult cuz she hasn't really had those interactions before, especially when it comes to an adult not trusting her.

and i think that's why she just feels so insane in sophmore year, jsut like, she's going from something super rigid to something where it feels like she can do anything and that's fucking scary. like she has a place to stay but she doesn't really have any parents to answer to, she has a god but she has so much doubt it doesn't feel reliable, all she really has as stability is her friends and her girlfriend, and i feel like she is just incredibly reckless cuz like, she's doing better but its almost like she has nothing to lose? but she does. and she did, and i think that was what beardsley was saying about the chaos not being cute anymore, like kristen was acting like she was invinvible at times and that not only got her hurt, but also those around her, and im excited to see how she grows from that.

#anon beloved thank you so much for the ask #bird answers #d20 #fantasy high #kristen applebees #dimension 20

41 notes · View notes

sin-djarin · 3 months

Text

well, tough luck...

A Young!Dieter Bravo fic.

Word count: 2.2k

Rating: M. MDNI. This blog and its contents are 18+.

Summary: Dieter tries to learn a new skill for a potential role. Also a Dieter Bravo ear piercing origin story.

Warnings: Dieter tries really fucking hard okay, mention of injury and injury clean up, mention of needles (body piercing), mention of drugs, reminiscing over the early 2000s, grammar and typos likely because I'm shaking off some rust, anything else I've forgotten - please let me know!

A/N: This is a Dieter headcanon I mentioned to @for-a-longlongtime. For all of this silliness to make some (?) sense, please read the further a/n at the end!

“Do you think you can do it, Dieter?”

Late on Friday afternoon, his agent’s words rattle around in his skull as he watches the young woman methodically peel back the protective plastic from the sterilized clamp and place it gently on a cold metal tray. Unconsciously, his fingertips dig into the soft, black leather of the massage bed that he’s perched on.

His mind is a whirl of scattered thoughts, none of which he can seem to pin down or make sense of other than maybe he’s taken this whole thing too seriously.

He’s caught in an uncertain limbo, unsure of where his gaze should fall, or whether he should even keep his eyes open or shut out the fact he’s chosen to do this. The inescapable smell of potent disinfectant fills the air around him and catches at the back of his throat, while the distant, unending hum of tattoo machines from the other side of manages to finally shake the guitar riff that’s seared itself into every nook and cranny of his brain for the last two weeks in preparation for his latest potential role.

The young woman's long, neon green dreadlocks sway down the length of her back as she wheels the tray across the room and sidles up beside him, her every step emitting an aura of coolness that does little to settle his nerves - a coolness he tells himself he doesn’t have. He can't help but swallow hard when finally stops in front of him, casually popping a bubble of gum with a loud snap.

"Okay. Ready?" she asks, her voice steady and smooth, as she slips her thumb and index finger through the handles of the surgical steel clamp.

But words stick to his drying tongue, only able to give her a barely there nod of agreement instead.

As she takes his chapped bottom lip between her fingers, his taste buds are flooded by the alien taste of the latex from her purple surgical gloves and it sends his stomach into a fit of nervous churning.

Suddenly, without thinking, he blurts out, "You know what? Maybe we can do it somewhere else?"

She sighs heavily, mentally preparing herself for the additional paperwork his change of heart will burden her with.

"It's your money, dude. Whatever. Where?" she retorts, her previous patience clearly wearing thin as the clamp flops in her grip.

Caught off guard, Dieter shakes his head, trying to think of somewhere more appropriate. "I don’t know. My…um, ear?"

She raises an expectant eyebrow. "Which one?"

He doesn't really have a preference but, feeling pressured, he points to his left ear anyway.

“Okay. Deep breath in for me.”

Taking a moment to steady himself, he draws in a deep, shuddering breath, and holds it. He lets it out slowly, a controlled release of air through flared nostrils, just as the sharp sting of the needle pierces the tender flesh.

The sensation is quick, a brief flare of pain that ebbs away almost as quickly as it came. The sharp, sweet scent of her cinnamon gum permeates the air around him, the smell so intense it stings his eyes a little. With practiced ease, she deftly fastens the delicate gold hoop through the newly made opening in his earlobe, and his jaw clenches as he adjusts to the new, dull ache of it.

–

Conveniently, his next stop on his route to success is located right above the tattoo shop. As he climbs the stairs for a bout of mental pain this time, the guitar riff returns and he tries to morph into the lyrics of the song that he’s had on repeat for a fortnight.

For the second time today he feels like the odd one out standing in front of two younger men whose clothes run at least three sizes too big for their frames. One of them wears a scarlet red beanie even though the sun outside is murderous and the other’s hair is unnaturally blonde and glistens with hair gel that holds the small spikes upright.

Oddly, he longs for the previous smell of disinfectant. The inside of the store reminds him of his teenage bedroom, musty with a faint smell of cheap deodorant that does little to mask the scent of even cheaper weed.

Realistically he has no idea what he’s looking for along the walls that are lined with decks with different designs. He doesn’t recognise any of the in-your-face brand logos. He knows what a skateboard is and what it’s supposed to do. He hung out with skaters on the beach, they taught him how to blow smoke rings but he was closer with the graffiti artists. They discussed color theory and then he taught them how to blow smoke rings under the bridges while they sprayed murals after dark.

“What’s up, dude?” the guy in the beanie greets him.

“I need a skateboard.” Dieter tells him in a small voice.

“Sweet. What size?”

He runs a hand through his hair before he answers, “I don’t know.”

“Are you going to skate bowls?”

Dieter narrows his eyes, confused at his words, “What?”

“Vert. Or are you more of a street guy?”

“I…don’t know” he hesitates. “Is there no one size fits all?”

A small TV in the corner steals Dieter's attention. It plays a VHS of skateboarding clips and it answers his own question - he doesn't know his ass from his elbow inside these four walls.

All of it is filmed through a fisheye lens, it shows him slices of a life he’s never led, a movie he's never likely to be in. Fast paced videos of professionals grinding along rails, dozens of onlookers sitting on the edges of ramps as someone drops in for the first time and tricks that make him question his belief in gravity. He tries to make a mental note of how their feet flip the wood but their movements are too rapid for him to absorb.

The blond guy comes out from behind the counter, ushering him over to a glass cabinet and begins pointing at pieces of metal and different colored wheels. He walks Dieter through what he’s going to need to get started but the sizes and measurements go over his head. He didn’t think there would be so much math involved. Other kids he went to highschool with found skateboards under their Christmas tree, Dieter didn’t. Now, in his mid twenties this is unchartered territory.

Eventually he hooks Dieter up with a deck, trucks, bearings and brand new wheels. His only challenge now was to learn how to use it.

Thankfully the blond guy sets up Dieter's board. He watches on as he tightens the trucks effortlessly, keeping a close eye on all the screws. Dieter's eyes widen when he pulls a switchblade from his back pocket to trim the edge of the black grip tape placed on top of the new plywood.

Is this where his headshots and audition reels were meant to get him?

No.

Is this what he wanted?

Not exactly.

But background actor in a music video is something he’s yet to add to his portfolio.

“Alright, man. You’re all set.” the blond guy admires his handiwork then grins excitedly at Dieter.

“Yeah…thanks.”

“Hey, buddy? Get comfortable with falling.” beanie guy warns him as he leaves the store.

–

Dieter begins the weekend trying to get to grips with the skateboard he spent too much money on. In between, he's tried to think of a way to tell his landlord how exactly he cracked the vinyl flooring in his tiny kitchen that isn’t skateboard related. She won’t buy the fact he’s moonlighting as a skater now. In the time he’s lived there, he’s been a waiter, a mall cop, a farm hand, a starving artist both in fiction and in reality.

At night he bites the bullet and takes the board outside to the short alley behind his apartment building. The street light up above provides him with enough light to give him visual on any stray pebbles or pieces of broken glass that would threaten a fall. The darkness giving him enough cover if he does slip.

He finds his balance on the board pretty quickly. The first time he pushes off on his strong foot, he thinks it’s easy and there isn’t so much to be worried about. He skates the length of the alley, back and forth until he’s confident in his movements, finally becoming bold enough to experiment with tilting his body to turn the board, drifting left and right. Maybe he can do it.

Dieter even begins to like how it feels, how the warm summer breeze brushes along his skin and ripples through his clothes when he picks up some speed. But when he tries to imitate a trick he saw on the tape, his feet are uncooperative. They betray him and introduce his skin to the unforgiving asphalt for the first time and he realizes that maybe he is taking this too fucking seriously.

Dieter continues the same routine on Sunday night but it doesn’t get easier. Everything is happening too slowly. He can’t pull the side of his foot up along the deck fast enough to land an ollie. Despite the clerk’s well intentioned advice, he never gets comfortable with falling. Each time his flesh meets concrete, he’s reminded of the cruel reality of gravity.

As the moon rises and his neighbors sleep, he finds himself in his cool bathroom. He becomes accustomed to tending to his wounds into the early hours of the morning but he never gets used to the biting sting of alcohol when he rubs it over the scrapes on his shins and the heels of his palms.

The heap of bloodied cotton balls piles higher in the bathroom trash can each night. Another piece of skin torn open, another bruise blooming somewhere on his body, another bump that echoes the snare of the song he’s started to hate.

“Do you think you can do it, Dieter?”

He doesn’t fucking know, he thinks, throwing another stained cotton ball into the trash.

It’s the discomfort that wakes him early on Monday morning. He woefully underestimated the physical toll that skateboarding would wage on his lower body. The bag of frozen peas that were solid and cold, that he optimistically slept with on his knee, is now a lukewarm bag of mush nestled between his legs. The initial soothing chill had done nothing to prevent the emergence of a purple bruise forming on his kneecap. Still, he musters up the will to drag himself up from the mattress laid bare on the hardwood floor and heads for the bathroom.

When he looks in the mirror it’s like all the pain hits him all over again. He must have slept on his new piercing. It pulsates and he can feel the heat from it creep up the side of his face. The gash in the crease in his bottom lip looks even worse under the bright fluorescent lights. That lip piercing probably would have hurt less, he muses, dabbing away the dark dried blood surrounding it with wet tissue paper. The board skidded from underneath the soles of his feet when he landed unevenly. He didn’t fall, but his body still collided with a metal fence as he tried not to. His latest injury, and with luck, his last.

What should have been a five second stroll to the kitchen, becomes a slow, minute long trudge. The sun has barely peaked in the sky as he pulls a fist full of stale Lucky Charms from the box on the kitchen counter and shoves them into his mouth wincing when the sweet sugar from the marshmallow meets his tender, swollen lip.

Gingerly, he eases himself onto the couch, slumping at an awkward angle but one that takes the edge of his throbbing limbs. The cruel skateboard propped up against the wall mocks him. His head falls to the side and his heavy eyelids settle on the phone.

Maybe it’ll all be worth it. He’ll get the part and he’ll have an anecdote to tell at an acceptance speech in twenty years about how he got the scar on his hand that’s still a raw lesion right now.

Or maybe he’s just insane, losing his mind completely.

When his agent told him about this part, she hadn’t asked for him to do any of this. This new, intense take on method acting, this extreme commitment to authenticity was all his own creation. His own twisted idea that if he could convince the director he could really skate then he’d be an idiot to not give him the ten seconds of screen time.

Skating the edge of consciousness now, he slips in and out of sleep until he’s jolted awake by the shrill sound of the phone ringing. He bolts upright and heaves a pained sigh when he reaches to the coffee table too fast for his abused muscles’ liking.

Dieter fills his lungs to capacity with air, puffing up his chest as he prepares himself for a sigh of relief or for a punch to the gut before his thumb presses down on the green button.

“Yeah?” he answers, fatigue making his voice barely above a whisper.

“You didn’t get it, Dieter.” she says bluntly. The tone of her posh accent combined with the blunt delivery of her words somehow makes the news even more difficult to digest.

A flurry of questions race around in his head. What did he do wrong? Was it something he didn't do at all? Why didn't she fight harder for him? What does that other guy have that he doesn't? Another fucking ear piercing?

He wants to ask all these questions and more, but he can't. His lip is still pulsing and he probably can't stomach the answers anyway.

“What’s next?” he manages to slur out, still tasting the metallic tang of blood in his mouth.

“Well, it’s not all bad,” he perks up at the unfamiliar peppiness in her voice. “Remember that script I sent you a while back? The one you read for? What was it called,” she trails off and he hears her rifling through sheets of paper at her desk. “Oh, here we go. Cliff Beasts. The one with the dragons or something. Their people called me this morning, it’s basically yours if you want it. Do you think you can do it, Dieter?”

For a second he still thinks he’s dreaming but when he swings his legs off the couch and the pain shoots up and down them once more, he knows he’s very much awake.

“I’ll take it.” he agrees.

“Better than a music video anyways. I’ll call you back in an hour with more details. Bye Die-”

“Wait!” he cuts off her farewell, gulping so hard that probably heard it. “Can you ask how they feel about piercings?”

-------------------------------------------

A/N: The role Dieter didn't get.

Maybe he should have tried BMX instead....

I still wanna be her when I grow up.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfic #dieter bravo fanfiction #the bubble fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction

34 notes · View notes