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#corpse husband one shot
fritz-federleicht · 1 year
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Reader being flirting with all of their friends and then they meet corpse for the first time playing among us and typically they would flirt but they can barely say hi after hearing his voice and whole group is messing with them about why they couldn’t talk like normal and then a time skip of corpse openly flirting with them on Twitter and reader flirting back
Speechless/ Corpse Husband x reader
Words: 651
FLUFF
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"Guys guys, today we are playing among us again." You say happily to the chat. You open the game and wait for the others. Ludwig appears next to you.
"That's right Y/N. We are playing among us again today." Ludwig's voice can be heard.
"Oh yes we are. Hey guys." You greet your fellow players. "Nice to hear from you again. Especially from you Ludwig. I missed you so much."
"Y/N, stop it, I'm blushing." Ludwig replies sheepishly. When Rae appears next to you, you run up to her and circle her.
"Hey Rae." "Hey Y/N." "By the way, you look beautiful again today." Are you complimenting Rae. "Thanks Y/N. I didn't change anything about my character though. But thank you." Responds Rae.
"You know, my dear, it's because you always look beautiful. Whether in real life or in the game." You flirt with Rae.
"Oh Y/N oh Y/N. Charming as always." Rae's laugh rings out.
"Okay. Enough fooling around. Everyone's here. Let's get started." Sykkuno ends your conversation.
In the first round, you are not an Impostor. However, Rae is killed first. When the first meeting starts and you read that she was killed, you immediately ask who killed her. You read through the list of names to pick a victim to blame when you read an unfamiliar name.
"Who's Corpse? I'll just say hello." "Oh, hey. That's me. Nice to meet you." His deep voice sounds.
It's quiet for a moment. You sit there, unable to say anything. His deep voice has left you speechless.
"Hello?" Corpse asks. "Yes. Nice to meet you." You answer shyly.
Ludwig starts to laugh. "Corpse, you actually managed to make Y/N speechless. No one has ever done that before."
"Really Corpse. Consider yourself lucky." Says Poki.
You just sit there. With reddened cheeks and listen to the conversation.
Sykkuno chimes in. "Y/N just so you know. Corpse is mine." You just nod. You realize that no one sees it, but you can't answer at the moment.
Corpse laughs at Sykkuno's words. When you hear his laugh, your eyes grow wide. You look down at your table.
"We have to vote for someone else. Did someone see anything suspicious?" Ludwig asks, still amused.
The rest of the rounds you hardly say anything.
When you open your Twitter the next day, you see that Corpse has mentioned you in a tweet.
You click on the notification. Immediately the tweet opens.
Corpse Husband: @Y/N I hope you can speak again. Found your reaction really cute
You stare at your phone, blushing slightly as you think of his voice again. You type a response.
Y/N: @Corpse Husband thank you for caring about me. To answer your question yes I can speak again. Yours just blew me away. I just say really hot
Suddenly Ludwig interferes.
LUDWIG: @Y/N discuss this with @Corpse Husband privately. Or do you want @Sykkuno to overhear and kill you? Oops... now I linked him by mistake
Y/N: @ludwig I can stand up to Sykkuno. For my future husband I do everything
Corpse Husband: Ok. We are that far @Y/N?
Sykkuno: Hey! @Y/N! Corpse is mine
Sykkuno: But seriously Y/N. You should date Corpse. You guys would be really good together. He's always trying to be mean but he's actually a teddy bear
Rae: @Sykkuno is right. Corpse is a really good guy
Y/N: I would have no problem with that. We can also get married right away
Corpse Husband: @Y/N shall we?
As soon as you read this you know you have to meet him. You decide to ask Sykkuno for Corpse's number.
A short time later you meet. You hit it off right away and get together a short time later.
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they forgot ~ corpse husband
word count: 2022
request?: yes!
“Corpse husband asks his S/O why they are upset two days before their birthday and they reply, "I just got a text from my parents saying to have a happy birthday today." ”
description: in which an early birthday text sends her mood on a downward spiral just days before her actual birthday
pairing: corpse husband x female!reader
warnings: swearing, shitty parents, some self hatred/insecurities due to shitty parents
masterlist (one, two, three)
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I never liked my birthday. Cliché, I know. That’s how every sad story with a happy birthday ending starts.
I was a cliché from my high school days, too. I only had two friends, so “birthday parties” were always just the three of us in my basement watching the same movies. I tried to have an actual birthday party once for my Sweet 16. Only because my mother insisted upon it. Made me send out invitations to my entire class and decorated our house before leaving for the night so we could “have a real good time”.
No one showed up besides the usual two friends, and we ended up in the basement watching movies yet again.
That was another issue: my parents.
I know they loved me...in their own way, anyways. Most years we didn’t celebrate my birthday. Not how I would want to celebrate it, anyways. If it were up to me, we’d go out on the night of my birthday to one of my favorite restaurants and maybe have a board game night or something. Just be together as a family for my day. But that’s never how it went. My parents were always “busy” the day of my birthday. Mom made the mistake of telling me once that she forgot it was even my birthday and booked a day out with her friends. She didn’t ask if I wanted to come with them. If we ever did anything, it was usually whatever they decided with very little input from me.
I thought I was weird for disliking my birthday, until I met Corpse.
Corpse didn’t like his birthday either. When it came around the first time when we started dating, I didn’t make a big deal over it as he asked. I got him a gift and a cupcake with a candle in it, but that was it. He did the same for me - small gestures as to not make such a big deal over my birthday.
But, as time went on, Corpse started making a little bit of a bigger deal about my birthday. He’d order in take out form my favorite restaurant, make me dinner (once he also tried to make a cake for dessert), invited over a few of our friends once just to hang out for my birthday. I didn’t notice at first, and by the time I realized what he was doing, I was too happy to be upset. I was finally enjoying my birthday for the first time in...well...almost ever.
Until my parents dragged me back down to Earth.
I was getting ready for work when my phone chimed signaling I had gotten a text. I ignored it at first, figuring I’d answer whenever I finished getting ready. But when it went off a second time, just moments after the first, I figured it was important. I picked up my phone and the screen lit up, displaying two unread texts from my parents.
“Happy Birthday sweetheart. We hope you have a wonderful day.”
“We love you very much and we are so proud of you.”
It would’ve been a really sweet series of messages if it weren’t for the fact that my birthday wasn’t for another two days.
I sat down on the edge of mine and Corpse’s bed. I kept re-reading the texts until they burned into my eyeballs, the words “Happy Birthday sweetheart” standing out every time I blinked, until welling tears washed the image away.
I thought things were different. I thought I was actually becoming someone worth celebrating, or at least worst remembering my fucking birthday. But if my own parents couldn’t even be bothered to remember when their only child was born, how could anyone else be bothered to remember or care about me?
“I thought you had work.”
I jumped at the sound of the deep voice I usually loved so much. I hadn’t heard Corpse come out of his editing room. It had been another night of Corpse’s fucked up sleep schedule keeping him up from sun down to sun up. I had gotten used to our sleep schedules often conflicted, especially when my work required me to wake up semi-early in the morning. I guess I had momentarily forgotten he wasn’t in our bed while I was getting ready for work.
I quickly wiped my eyes and shoved my phone into my pocket. “Yeah, I do. I got distracted, I guess.”
I stood and made my way out of our bedroom, pausing only to give Corpse a quick kiss. I mumbled a “Goodbye, love you” as I exited our apartment, leaving before he could notice I was upset.
~~~~~~
The day passed in a blur. I couldn’t stop thinking about the text. I hadn’t responded, which didn’t trouble my parents too much. Part of me hoped they would realize their mistake if I didn’t respond and would apologize for mixing up the dates. But that never happened. They didn’t text me back at all. Didn’t even acknowledge that I hadn’t responded. They probably hadn’t even noticed.
I couldn’t wait to get home and crawl into bed and end this shitty day. If I was lucky, Corpse also would’ve forgotten my birthday and we wouldn’t do anything to celebrate the day I was once again dreading the most.
Corpse was laying in our bed, re-watching Death Note for the hundredth time. I kicked off my shoes and shrugged off my jacket before getting into bed with him.
“I can’t believe you started without me,” I teased, trying not to let my upset show in front of him.
“There was nothing else to watch,” he responded.
“We have Netflix, Disney+, and Hulu, but there was nothing to watch?”
Corpse put a hand over my mouth and shushed me. I giggled and rested my head against his chest. I was starting to feel somewhat better after the day I had had.
He moved his hand from my mouth to my back and started running his fingertips up and down my spine. “How was work?”
I made a grunt sound in response. “It was okay, I guess.”
“Only okay?”
I shrugged. “Nothing especially good or bad happened. It was just a day.”
His hand ran from my back to my hair. I shivered from the cool feeling of his metal rings against my skin, leaving a tingling feeling in their wake. His fingers tangled through my hair as he started to play with it.
“What’s on your mind, honey?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I responded, although it didn’t come out very convincingly.
“You’ve seemed upset since before you went to work. Did something happen this morning?”
Tears started to prick my eyes again. Corpse always knew when something was wrong. It was like he had a sixth sense about when I was upset, and he wouldn’t let up until I talked about it even a little bit. It could be annoying since I was so used to just dealing with my upset and sadness myself, but it did always help me to feel better when I talked to him.
Corpse paused the show and moved so he could face me. He wiped away the fresh falling tears with his thumbs. “What happened, baby?”
“M-My parents,” I sniffled.
That was really all he needed to hear. Corpse knew about the relationship I had with my parents. He had only met them once and decided that was one too many times for him. His once soft gaze at my sad face immediately darkened when I told him. “What did they do?”
“They...they sent me a text this morning,” I said. “Two, actually. Wishing my a happy birthday and telling me they love me and they’re proud of me.”
His brows furrowed in confusion. “But...your birthday is...”
He trailed off as I started to nod. The dam officially broke within me and I began to sob. Corpse quickly pulled me to him, burying my head in his chest and allowing me to cry into his shirt. At least he loved wearing black clothing so it wasn’t like I was staining the material with my sadness.
“Th-They couldn’t even be bothered to remember,” I said. “All these years I thought...I thought I was finally becoming important enough for other people to even...remember the day I was fucking born.”
“Of course you’re important enough.”
I shook my head. “Not important enough for my own parents to remember my birthday. My own fucking parents, Corpse! They were fucking there when I was born! You’d think, of all people, the person who popped me out of her fucking vagina would remember what day she did that. But she doesn’t, and she’s never given enough of a fuck to remember that day and make it special for me. Never! So why would anyone else care that much about me when my own parents can’t?”
Corpse pulled me away from his chest and looked down at me. He wiped the tears from my face again, gently running his thumbs under my eyes and down my face to catch the tears.
“I care,” he said. “I have since the very first day that I met you. If you hadn’t told me that you didn’t like your birthday, I may have thrown you the best party I possibly could just to celebrate you.”
I couldn’t help but let out a shaky chuckle. “You hate people.”
“I love you, though. And if you wanted a party, I’d try to give you a party.”
I shook my head. “Everything you’ve done for me since we got together is more than enough.”
“You say that, but to me it feels like it’s far from being enough. Your birthday is one of very few days that I actually want to celebrate throughout the year because you are something I want to celebrate. I don’t know what I’d do if I never met you.”
“Probably be doing the same thing you’re doing now: watching Death Note all night until you fall asleep at 5am.”
He chuckled. “Okay, yes, but I wouldn’t have someone to do that with me. And that’s what means the most to me. Since I met you, I haven’t felt as alone as I once did. You make me feel so happy, (Y/N). More than I think you could ever know.”
I could feel my eyes welling up again, but this time it was happy tears. I leaned forward to kiss Corpse, before pulling away to wipe my face again. Kissing someone while you’re crying, or while your face is still wet from crying, can be slightly awkward. Not that I thought Corpse would’ve minded at all.
“You make me happy, too,” I told him. “I’m glad I found you, and that we’re building this life together and starting our own family. Well...our found family.”
“One day it’ll be a real family. Whenever I start feeling better.”
I took his hands in mine and kissed them. “I can wait. As long as I have you.”
He eventually coaxed me to lie down with him again and pressed play on the show. I tried to stay awake to watch it with him, but after working most of the day and having cried a number of times, my eyes were feeling very heavy. I had to fight against my eyelids to keep them open, but it was a losing battle. At one point I had even managed to drift off to sleep for a few seconds before a sound on the TV caused me to jolt awake.
Corpse chuckled. “Do you want me to turn it off so you can sleep?”
I shook my head. “No, that’s okay. I don’t mind listening to it while I fall asleep.”
“Falling asleep to Death Note. And I thought I was fucking weird.”
If I had the energy I would’ve playfully hit his chest. Instead, I just grunted and turned into him more.
I felt his chest vibrate as he chuckled again. “Goodnight, baby. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I mumbled before finally drifting off to sleep.
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finelinebarnesx · 2 years
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Corpse Husband || Secret relationship
masterlist
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Summary: You and Corpse have been in a secret relationship for 4 months until he accidentally mentions it during a live stream of among us.
Pronouns used: they/them :)
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“Corpse totally vented!” I huffed as Toast reported Sykkuno’s body. We both knew I was the imposter but after being sus the last game I’m determined to win this round. “Lights when out, vent went up but I was with Corpse!”
Everyone went quiet for a second waiting for corpse to defend himself. “Y/N, Corpse would never kill Sykkuno” Toast vouched for Corpse and my mouth flew open in shock. The chat was going crazy about how Toast was defending a bloody killer and i laughed silently agreeing.
“Exactly! They know I would never kill Sykkuno so I think we should vote Y/N out for false accusation” the smirk in Corpse’ voice was evident and I groaned as they all agreed. Awhile into the next few games Corpse was talking forgetting to mute his microphone.
“They’re just so amazing guys, honestly everything about them makes my heart race, I don’t think I have ever smiled so hard until I met them” he was ranting the whole time and my chat was going crazy, Rae and Toast were blowing up my phone.
“Uh Corpse?” I coughed slightly to get his attention. “You’re not muted baby” we all laughed. “Well I guess that’s out then! Weve been together ever since Sykkuno introduced us and I couldn’t be happier”
We ended our livestream and the door of my games room opened. “I’m sorry about that” Corpse blushed and I stood up to wrap my arms around his waist breathing in his scent.
“They were gonna find out eventually” I grinned standing on my tiptoes to kiss him softly. “Least it was you and not me” I winked.
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banquetwriter · 2 months
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୨୧ distant love pt: 2 ୨୧
pairing: Rick Grimes ♡︎ fem!Reader
warnings: ୭̥⋆*。 canon typical violence, Rick is low-key a cheater (not on reader tho), not beta read we die like Carl
summary: ʚ basically a filler chapter from the CDC to the prison post-Woodburyɞ
Words: 2002
An: hey babies I wrote this on my phone again 😔 also i haven’t seen the earlier seasons in a very long time so mb if it’s not exactly accurate 😔😔
Part 1 Part 3
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You and Rick had kept your distance most of the morning. Looking at Shane’s black eye. “Dad, are you hungover? Mom said you would be.” Carl asks as Rick sits down at the table. You let yourself stifle a giggle at the kids' antics. Rick being drunk last night would explain his forward-ness.
You followed the group after breakfast as Jenner explained what exactly was happening to everyone. Why would the dead rise?
You watched as the x-ray video’s corpse re-animated. God that was scary. What was scarier was Jenner locking the doors. You covered your mouth as tears streamed down your face. “Oh my god.” you whimpered out.
You were going to die. You of course found yourself turning to Rick. Who was holding his wife and child? Your heart sinks.
Of course, he would be with them. You were a sidepiece. Why would he protect you? Care for you? He made his choice. It was one that you're going to have to be ok with. Even if you weren't going to live very long.
That's when the doors opened and Rick screamed for everyone else to get their stuff. You ran as fast as you could to escape. Avoiding the shards of glass that spilled everywhere Rick threw the explosive at the glass.
Your eyes rest on Lori and Rick as they sit in the front of the camper. You weren't sure how you could have ever found a real relationship with him. You think back to Lori’s words. Trying to push the two of you together. Your heart burned for her.
How low was she that she wanted her husband to sleep with another woman? You suppose she felt guilty for her and Shane being together. This was a different thought, wasn't it? Rick said he loved you. You weren't sure how much of that you believed.
It was you who saw the way Rick was after Otis accidentally shot Carl. It was you who hugged him, feeling his arms search for a sign that his boy was still alive. It was Rick who begged you to stay with him.
You wanted to, you really did. But that would have been inappropriate and unfair to Carl. This could very well be his last night alive. He shouldn't be confused about why you were there.
You see the color leave his face as he donates more and more blood to his son. Trying to comfort his wife but his eyes linger on your figure unfaithfully. Your curves would comfort him. Your soft skin and happy smiles. That's what he fell for.
He wished this wasn't the way it was. He wished he had met you instead of Lori. Marrying the first girl he could. I mean he did love Lori. As the mother of his children, he would always hold a place for her. She just wasn't you, was she?
You on the other hand shoved your feelings down, deeper than the Mariana trench. Trying to help keep the camp outside on Hershel's Farm going. Doing menial tasks like laundry or cooking. Offering to clean any weapons the group needed youto.
Trying to comfort Lori at every turn, silently becoming almost like a best friend to her. Holding her shoulders as if to say you're sorry for screwing her husband.
You used to help go on runs with Glenn and Maggie until you found them shaking up in the convenience store. It was cute to see young love budding, but seeing them naked was not something you were down to see again.
It made you jealous to see them so in love. You wished you and Rick could be that way. But alas, that's not what life has in store for you. Love. What a joke. A nimbly fickle thing.
You kept a good amount of distance between you and Shane. Not daring to go near him. One night you sat around the campfire with lori and carol. It had been a long day of playing catch-up with chores since Lori had been helping Carl rehabilitate.
“Alright girls, I'm off to bed,” Carol says with a tight-lipped smile. You and Lori talked a little bit about Glenn and Maggie.
“Y/n?” she asks looking up at you. Her gaunt and skinny face looks more and more malnourished these days. “Mm?” you ask, looking at her. “I-I know how he looks at you.” her voice barely above a whisper. You lick your lips, shaking your head.
“Lori, stop,” you ask her. Pleading almost. “You can't keep doing this to yourself, he loves you-” You try to keep your voice down but your heart breaks. “Y/n I'm pregnant,” she says.
For a second your world stops. The fires crackles keeping you grounded. You opened your mouth, unable to say anything. The amount of possible words dying in your throat. “I want it to be Rick’s. I need it to be Rick's,” she says, tears spilling down her face.
Your hands slip up to your face covering it. You let out a low breath. This wasn't about you. This was about her. You think over and over again trying to calm down all the raging emotions going through you.
“Does anyone else know?” you ask slowly, she must be feeling a whirlwind of things none of which you were entitled to have an opinion on. “Glenn does, I needed him to go out n get the tests,” she whispers straightening out her shirt, raising her hand up to her mouth and biting her nails.
Lori is absolutely exhausted, and you know more than ever she should be resting. You stay silent noting that neither potential fathers know she is pregnant. “I don't know what I'm going to do, Glenn has been trying to take care of me.” She gives a pitiful smile.
Her face was tear-stained, the streaks illuminated by the fire. “Well you need prenatal care no doubt.” you said scooting closer to her, grabbing her hands. “I think telling everyone will be the best course of action, when…” you said, pulling her into a hug.
“When you're ready,” you mumble against her shoulder. She thanked you with a sad smile standing up. You didn't sleep well that night. Not that you ever did now. You thought about the women in the next tent over probably also not sleeping.
You thought about the baby that was currently draining her of her energy. You thought of Carl. Recovering from a gunshot wound at such a young age, probably confused and scared most of the time.
And of course you thought of the man also sleeping in that tent. The one that seemed to consume your every thought. You thought of him always. It was a shame. You wished you were Lori sometimes. Sleeping in his arms pregnant with a baby.
You physically shake your head to rid yourself of your selfish thoughts. You were scared of Shane, scared of your feelings for Rick, and scared for Lori.
You were scared of the way your heart wanted to leap out of your chest every time Rick tried to talk to you. The way his rough hands would touch the soft skin of your arms. “Rick…” you breathe out trying to shy away from the older man.
The way he would beg you to stay close to him, his hot breath tickling your neck at his closeness. “This isn't the right time Rick.” you would whisper, eyes flicking up to see his teary ones.
Dark almost permanent circles surrounded his eyes. You pull away from his grasp and run out of the Greene’s house. You stood by Daryl's side as you read him shitty books you found on runs trying to provide him an ounce of comfort as he recovers from the bullet wound that Andrea gave him.
And be would try and provide an ounce of that comfort to you as the barn full of walkers is discovered. Taking all of your willpower not to vomit at the smell. Turning away from the group. Allowing yourself a moment, just a moment of selfish comfort.
As Rick’s arms wrap around you. Breathing in his musky scent. The sounds of the guns firing off still ring in your head. “It's ok, you're going to be ok,” Rick mumbles in your ear. His hand clasped gently in the back of your neck.
As soon as the moment is here it's gone as you see Shane’s angry face peering at the both of you from a few feet away. Your face fills with embarrassment, you rip away from his embrace instead choosing to hug Carol who was sobbing over the loss of her daughter.
You spent the next few days in a constant state of dissasostivate numbness. Unable to feel anything other than fear. Seeing Rick and Shane keep a man locked up in the barn for fear of what he could do.
Even though your group was the one keeping him held, handcuffed, and bound. As soon as he goes missing it seems to bring you out of your state as Shane comes running with a broken nose claiming that the prisoner ran away.
You ran into the house with all the women. Fearing for what was next. Trying to hide in case he came back with his group. Seeing all the panic spread through the group as the barn is set on fire. The horde of walkers attacking your slice of peace.
You barely make it out with your lives. Reconnecting with your group on the highway with everyone. Once again seeing Rick’s eyes falling on you as he hugs you with his family. You turn away from him, finding comfort in Daryl's embrace.
You watched as Rick distended into madness and anger after killing Shane. Demanding that whatever he said went. This was not the man you fell in love with. This was not the human your body craved comfort from.
Revealing how his son had to be the one to put his best friend down after he turned into a walker. Which was bizzare you never took him for type to get bit or even scratched.
That's when Rick reveals the delicate information that you all carry the virus. A crucial piece of information that sends the group into a frenzy of anger. You felt very sick. How could he keep that from you? From the group?
It only went downhill from there. Rick and Lori are always fighting as she grows more and more pregnant. The sheriff was unable to hide his anger towards her. Constantly on the run, even once you find and fortify the prison, the Governor and all of his bullshit wreaks havoc on the group.
It's been 6 months since Woodbury fell, you had a big group. Full of amazing people. A decent farm and garden. Life was decent. Judith was a beautiful baby girl.
You sighed setting your pencil down in the crease of your sketchbook. You had picked it up on a run not too long ago, at first mostly making a few sketches and doodles to entertain Carl.
Although lately, you have been trying to work through your feelings through the pages of the book. Unfortunately, most of them were about Rick. You always observed him when he was working in the fields.
You could almost see the heat radiating off of him. His t-shirt is clinging to his sweaty body. To his strong sculpted muscles. Fuck. He was so hot.
It brought you back to those nights in the quarry. His rough hands gripped your soft flesh. Back arching as you slammed into him. Tongues slipping into each other's throats.
You lick your lips slightly admiring your drawing. It was of a man who looked suspiciously like Rick. His tired haunted face and sculpted body were barely covered. “Hey.” a southern voice took you away from your explicit drawing.
You look up to see the man in your drawing staring right back at you.
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getosbigballsack · 21 days
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@hajunzi , you're really shameless, making my story into a three part series, word for word, then you gonna have the audacity to say "I wouldn't write incest if it wasn't requested, but something took over me and made me want to write this."
I'm pretty sure you're meant to say, "something took over you, and you decided to steal it." Yeah, that would've made much more sense.
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If only you knew the orgins of the story, a one-shot I wrote for CORPSE HUSBAND before I even got into anime, and I decided that I would've have been so much better as a SATOSUGU story and you just stole it as if I didn't spend countless nights writing it, wrote over 10k+ words just to publish this story and went into depression right after because of the amount of rest I was receiving.
You have no respect for our work, our art. And as if stealing and making "MY STORY" into a three part series wasn't enough, you just had to steal @peachsayshi story too.
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This is not fair so much time and effort just for our stuff to get stolen. And what hurts is that you never asked, because if you did ask me to use my story, I would've said yes to you and just simply asked that you give me credit for my work. But no... you took it own it as if it's yours.
I feel so disrespected.
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aethon-recs · 6 months
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Love the blog!
Wondering if you have any Tomarry/Harrymort case-fic/mystery recs?
Thanks so much for the ask! I also can’t get enough of the casefic/mystery genre.
Usually I throw together a mix of both WIPs (why WIPs?) and complete fics, but for this set of 15 recs, I selected for fics which are either complete or still actively updating, so as not to leave you on a cliffhanger on a mystery fic! A few of these fics are outright casefics, and a few of these have a mystery component where the big reveal comes to light as the story unfolds. Hope you enjoy!
*
Tomarrymort Mystery Recs
aurora polaris by @aglassroseneverfades (E, 153k, WIP)
Harry wakes up one day with no memory of his past, upon which he’s greeted by a handsome, doting older man named Gaunt who claims that he and Harry have been in a relationship together for years. 
Blood in the wine by @girl-with-goats (E, 31k, complete)
Tom Riddle achieves immortality by the means of vampirism. Enter young copper Harry Potter, fresh recruit from Scotland Yard, sent to investigate the mysterious disappearances of all the young men who uncannily look like him.
Corpse Party: Hogwarts Edition by @robinegberts (E, 67k, complete)
Harry, Hermione, and Ron skip the Halloween feast, only to wake up to a world where the castle isn’t right. It’s cold, empty, quiet. The layers of dust suggest it’s been abandoned for years. And outside the classroom lies the corpse of a girl who went missing years ago. As they wander the halls of this strange alternate version of Hogwarts, they encounter corpse after corpse, warnings left behind by the dead, and for some reason Harry feels they’re being followed.
Dead Leaves on a Wet October Day by @trelloreads (T, 29k, complete)
Harry is a ghost hunter. Riddle Manor is his strangest case yet.
Everything We Dream Can Be Real by @vdoshu (E, 52k, complete)
Harry had a life after Voldemort. He had a family. He had a career. And then one day it was all ripped away when he woke up at Number 4 Privet Drive. Or: Where Harry doesn’t exactly get that chance to do it over again. And things are Not Okay.
Keepsake by IceLynx (M, 5k, complete)
“I am Lord Voldemort, and I have not kidnapped you.” “That's... I should have known that.” Because Voldemort's words ring true, deep in Harry's heart. Harry tries to remember, but the thoughts won't come to him. The more he forces it, the more obvious the gaps in his memories become. “Why didn't I know that?”
Let's Cross Over by @whisprchrysalis (M, 251k, complete)
A hundred years after the end of the Second War, Harry Potter, Master of Death, unwittingly helps the last fragment of Lord Voldemort’s soul escape Limbo. Now, bound to Tom Riddle for the next five years, Harry has to coexist with the man he feared the most. Or: Auror MOD Harry and Tom Riddle strike an uneasy truce and solve crimes together, and Harry has to decide if his capacity to save everyone includes everyone, really.
love seeping from their guns by @purplemineralwater (E, 41k, complete)
Detective Harry Potter is just trying to enjoy his holiday when the tranquility of the lovely cruise along the Nile is shattered by the discovery that Theodore Nott has been shot. He was young, rich and beautiful, a boy that had everything – until he lost his life. Or: Harry investigates some murder, Tom tries to help, everyone has many, many secrets.
No Body, No Crime by @duplicitywrites (M, 20k, complete)
Harry works as a car mechanic in a small town. He and Ginny are best friends, their close bond the product of a traumatic event that scarred them both as children. One day, Ginny confides in Harry that she thinks her husband—the charming, enigmatic Tom Riddle—is cheating on her. A day later, Ginny goes missing. Harry is convinced that Tom is behind her disappearance, and becomes determined to exact justice by any means necessary.
One Year In Every Ten by @saintsenara (E, 165k, WIP)
A decade after the final battle, just when the wizarding world thinks itself safe, a serial killer emerges, leaving a trail of dead women in his wake. Each of the bodies bears a gruesome message for the Aurors. A message which claims the Dark Lord has risen again. All Harry wants is something to distract him from a marriage falling apart at the seams. Maybe his latest plan to save the world, requiring Lord Voldemort to agree to turn his talents in the realm of wrongdoing to solving the case, will be just the thing…
Personal Assistant by @phantomato (E, 10k, complete)
Harry receives a mysterious package. Inside is a ring. A weird, ugly, old one made of gold and some kind of black stone.
Reconciling with Death by Madame_Psychosis (M, 27k, complete)
Featuring a dead girl in a forest, little-soldier-boys, some tenuous grasps on reality, straw mothers, a ghost in a bathroom and, slowly and sadly, kindness from a boy who’s just passing through time.
The Matchmaker by @eris-dawn (M, 44k, complete)
The Matchmaker is a serial abductor whose modus operandi consists of pairing two same-sex individuals together in a coffin, six feet underground - buried alive. He isn't a killer. He's a kidnapper with morals, and Detective Chief Inspector Tom Riddle finds himself obsessed with solving the case. Unfortunately for Tom, the Matchmaker is just as intent on knowing him.
Tom Riddle and the Quest for Vulnerability by lejf (E, 16k, complete)
They found him in an old house, under the stairs. His face was pale and instantly recognisable. aka: Auror Harry Potter has eighteen-year-old Tom Riddle bent over the table barely a day after he becomes his ward.
Wings of Ash by IceLynx (M, 31k, complete)
If eight people going missing isn't cause enough for panic, one of them being found dead might do it. The Ministry of Magic has no choice but accept all the help on offer, including that of former Auror Harry Potter. For Harry, it might be a chance to get his job back, if he can only crack the case first. Surely Harry can be forgiven if he too takes all the help that's offered. Including that of his pet snake, the former Dark Lord Voldemort.
*
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even-disco-baby · 1 year
Text
LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “You’re pretty good with that boy, Cuno.” She says it thoughtfully, as though she’s turning this fact over in her mind as she works at the tangled net in her lap. The sea is a soft roar over the horizon, and the world is tinged a dusky blue.
“Really? It doesn’t feel like I am. He still calls me anything but my name. Usually a slur.”
“It’s tough love, Lilienne, that’s all. A kid like that needs discipline.”
“He’s not that hard to deal with. He just wants somebody to play along with him. That’s all any kid wants.”
“He was good to me first.”
LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — She arches an eyebrow. “Really now…”
DRAMA — She isn’t doubtful, sire. Just surprised.
LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “Well, I hope you’ll keep on being good to each other, then. The kid certainly needs it.”
EMPATHY — And so do you, she thinks.
LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “You seem good with the young people around here in general,” she muses. “Cuno, those kids at the church, Lily and the boys… You said you used to be a teacher, didn’t you? Maybe that’s why.”
PAIN THRESHOLD — A familiar ache squeezes your lungs. The same ache that drove you to become a teacher in the first place. An incalculable and long forgotten loss.
INLAND EMPIRE — Don’t follow this thread any further. Let it unravel.
“Yeah, that’s probably it.”
“No, there’s something else… Lost children, a lost Indotribe…” [Follow the thread.]
“I think I wanted to be a father, once.” [Change the subject.]
LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — She pauses her work, strands of the net wrapped loosely around her fingers, but does not look up. “…Oh?”
ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Hey, it’s never too late! Now’s your chance to give fatherhood a shot!
“Any chance *we* could make it happen?” [Give her the finger guns.]
“I wonder why I did…”
“It was a stupid thing to want.”
“I still do.”
“I guess it never worked out.”
LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “Hm…” She goes back to her work, slowly and carefully. “Why not?”
“I don’t know. Can’t remember.”
“In *this* economy?”
“Things never lined up right, I guess.”
“I bet it was *her* fault. She ruined my chances forever.”
“Too poor and drunk and sad.”
“I’d never want to inflict myself on a child.”
“Just look at me.”
LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — She does look at you. There is no pity or disgust or whatever other terrible thing you expected in her gaze. Just a quiet acknowledgment.
EMPATHY — To her, you look just like a father she once knew. This only makes her more inclined to agree with you.
LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “…When I first got pregnant with the boys,” she says quietly, returning to her work, “I was uneasy. Wondered if it was… right to bring them into this world. Into *our* arms…”
PAIN THRESHOLD — A rare pang wracks her. She does not like to think about these things.
LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “I never did decide one way or another. I just knew what I wanted, and so I went ahead with it. *We* went ahead with it. And then again with Lily, even though…”
EMPATHY — Even though at heart she knew, by then, how it would all end.
SHIVERS — Five years ago, a man stands on the boardwalk where the corpse of a different drunken husband will one day be discovered. Bottle still clutched tightly in his hand, he fights the urge to throw himself into the dark water. He wins the battle today, but he will ultimately lose the war.
LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “However things turned out for you, I’m sure you had your reasons.” She sighs, and cuts a strand of the net with the tip of her knife, then ties it back together. “Though that probably sounds shallow, coming from me.”
“A little, yeah.”
“Not at all.”
“Can I ask you something?”
LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “Go ahead.”
“Do you regret having kids?”
“Uh… never mind.”
LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — She smiles, and there’s an uncharacteristic sadness in the lines around her eyes.
“No,” she says softly. “Never once.”
EMPATHY — She wonders if this is proof of her own selfishness.
It isn’t the children she regrets. It’s the world that she brought them into.
LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “Now that they’re here, all we can do is love them. And you’ve got plenty of love in you for the children, it seems. That’s more than a lot of fathers could say…” She sighs, her eyes shadowed and sunken. “Oh, I don’t know what I’m trying to say anymore.”
DRAMA — But you know what *you* would like to say, sire. Go ahead. Now’s your moment!
REACTION SPEED — No, it really isn’t. Please don’t push your luck.
“Lilienne…”
Don’t push your luck.
LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — She turns to you, expression inscrutable with the light of the setting sun behind her. “Yes?”
“Do you think *we* could ever… try again?”
“Do you think you could ever see *me* as… a father?”
“Do you think there’s any hope in this world for any of us?”
“Do you think the children will ever forgive us?”
“Do you think I’m… a good man?”
LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — She looks at you, her chin no longer held high, a tired slump in her shoulders and something searching in her eye. Her hands are all tangled in webs of fragile knots.
“I think…” she says slowly, evenly, “you’re looking for something that I can’t give you.”
-1 MORALE
“Okay. Well. Khm. Right.”
“What the hell does *that* mean?”
“That’s not really what I asked…”
Say nothing.
LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “I know what you’re asking,” Lilienne says frankly. “I’m just not so sure that *you* do…”
EMPATHY — For love.
RHETORIC — For vindication.
INLAND EMPIRE — For a lifeline.
VOLITION — For a future.
LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — Lilienne sighs, watching the twins in the distance, starting the long march home from the beach before dark. “At some point, Harry, you’re going to have to be okay with your life.”
SHIVERS — You have twenty two years left to reach that point.
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coochiequeens · 1 year
Text
A man exploited a woman, then he beats her before murdering her by shooting her NINE times and now he’s claiming to be a woman.
A gay man who admitted to murdering the surrogate mother he hired to have his children has told the court he identifies as a woman in what some are calling a bid to avoid a potentially lengthy sentence for femicide.
Fernando Alves Ferreira was detained in February of 2022 after admitting to the murder of Eduarda Santos, a surrogate he had hired who was living with him in the Argentinian city of Bariloche. Santos’ body was found by a tourist on the Circuito Chico Trail with 9 gunshot wounds. A later forensic examination revealed that Santos’ corpse also had injuries consistent with having been beaten prior to her death.
Two days after the killing, Ferreira turned himself into police. He repeatedly admitted to the crime while in custody, stating repeatedly “I did it. I killed her.” He was charged with femicide, premeditated murder, and use of a firearm owned without authorization, and expressed a desire in court to enter a guilty plea.
In Ferreira’s car, which was seized after he turned himself in, police found blood stains, leading them to theorize that a fight had broken out in the vehicle before Santos fled on foot. Ferreira then chased her down and shot her. Investigators noted that Ferreira had taken “every precaution to ensure the woman could not defend herself.” CCTV footage was also found of Ferreira disposing of his weapon. 
The motivation for the crime is unclear, as Ferreira has refused to provide concrete details. Instead, he has vaguely accused Santos of being involved in illegal “gang” activity and suggested he was the victim in the situation. No evidence has been found to substantiate his claim.
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The court heard that Ferreira and Santos were both originally from Brazil, and that Ferreira, along with his husband, had hired Santos to be a surrogate in 2020. 
Santos would give birth to twins for Ferreira and his partner, who would pass away the next year. The woman had apparently been living with the couple due to having a lack of her own economic resources.
The chief prosecutor in the case characterized Santos as being particularly vulnerable, and described her as having been “at the mercy” of Ferreira. Just one month prior to her murder, Santos had given birth to another child.
“Eduarda was a foreign woman who lived in Bariloche … She lived in the defendant’s house, lacked her own resources, and was at the mercy of the owner of the house,” chief prosecutor Martín Lozada stated during a hearing. “It was a situation of remarkable asymmetry. Eduarda was a woman to whom the accused had rented her womb to have two children through surrogacy, and since the birth of the twins, she lived in the same house.”
Prosecutors also argued that Ferreira had exercised “economic and psychological violence” on Santos for years, and that Santos was without any family or friends in Argentina. 
In response, Ferreira accused Santos of being the aggressor, saying “she was not submissive.”
Santos’ family in Brazil have previously spoken out against Ferreira’s claims of victimhood, slamming media for giving him sympathetic coverage. 
“My sister is the victim, not him,” Santos’ brother told Brazilian outlet O Dia last year. At the time, the family appeared to have been unaware of Santos’ situation in Argentina, believing she had gainful employment in the country. Santos’ family has been fighting for custody of the children she had as a surrogate for Ferreira in order to repatriate them to Brazil. Ferreira has demanded the children not be returned to Brazil. 
It was the dynamic between Ferreira and Santos which led to prosecutors pursuing a conviction for femicide, which is defined as a gender-specific crime introduced in 2012 to address the nation’s epidemic of sex-based violence. According to the United Nations, one woman is murdered every 32 hours in Argentina. The femicide provision was defined broadly as “a crime against a woman when the act is perpetrated by a man and gender violence is mediated.”
But now, Ferreira’s lawyers are seeking to have the femicide charge withdrawn, arguing that their client no longer identifies as a man. This past week during a hearing, Ferreira’s lawyers stated that his name was now “Amanda,” and that he was going through the relevant legal procedures to have his self-declared gender identity recognized. 
The prosecutors have reportedly pushed back against Ferreira’s request to be treated as a woman, but the case is still underway.
Of the charges Ferreira faced, the femicide claim carried the longest potential sentence of life imprisonment. If withdrawn, and if the other legal strategies stated by the defense are successful, Ferreira could spend as little as 10 years in prison for slaughtering Santos.
This is not the first time gender identity has interfered with a femicide-related crime in Argentina.
As previously reported by Reduxx, the brutal murder of a prostituted woman in Buenos Aires was initially recorded as a femicide until media learned that the two men involved in the killing identified as transgender.
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Brenda Córdoba, 28, was murdered on November 10 of 2021 in the Buenos Aires neighborhood of Balvanera. Grisly surveillance camera footage released by police during the investigation into her death showed Córdoba being approached by what appeared to be a man in a white hoodie and face mask. The man circled around to her back before grabbing her in a headlock and stabbing her multiple times in the chest.
Córdoba, who was dropped into a puddle of her own blood, was initially found alive by passersby who had attempted to intervene in the stabbing and rushed to hospital. She died as a result of her injuries days later.
Her killers were apprehended by police after an appeal to the community with CCTV footage of the murder. While media initially reported the crime as having been a femicide, the term was quickly scrubbed from reporting after the gender identities of Córdoba’s killers were established.
“due to having a lack of her own economic resources”……. Meaning two men exploited a poor woman.
By Anna Slatz
Anna is the Co-Founder and Editor-in-Chief at Reduxx, with a journalistic focus on covering crime, child predators, and women's rights. She lives in Canada, enjoys Opera, and kvetches in her spare time.
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pieroulette · 2 months
Text
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untitled project, corpse bride (teaser)
author's note. a jungwon 7k oneshot corpse bride inspired with him as a 'psycho serial killer butchering everyone in the train' i did since a year ago, but im not satisfied with it yet but here's a teaser! i haven't written in awhile so it might be crusty rusty lol but yep it will be out this month, hopefully ♡ trying to get back into my momentum.
warning. subtle graphic description of murder, gore. / excessive tagging wouldn't be used but a tagging system of playing card symbols i've created so please read at your own discretion when the full fic is out.
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Horrendous. Awful.
Not quite like the picture perfect image he had been fantasising about whenever he'd like to.
But he likes it, more than he would like to.
Awfully likes it.
He just needs to fix it a little more. Just a bit would do.
A bride on her merry way down the aisle of promised vows of happily ever after, a sweetened pursed up glossed lips and irises, couldn't she grow any more sweeter than this? Perhaps, it could. But to him, your shattered delicate state was much more sweet than he could taste, he could even sniff it into his soul—dark, dark, terribly dark soul.
Your bouquet, strip to nothingness where restorations could no longer be made was evident with madness. Or was he, the madness in itself? Perhaps, it is. What is there to deny?
Now the question is, what happened? Was it an arranged marriage on the foundation of a million bucks or perhaps even better, a mine of gold? Or was it actually true love at first sight? A runaway bride with her lover but was unfortunately shot to his death, or maybe, maybe fell to his death down the cliff? Or was it betrayal?
Which one is it?
Which one did actually happen that it has this tremendous effect in making this sweet of a delicate bride stranded somewhere in the city, boarding a train in all her fleeting gloriousness that was all for her cherished husband-to-be to relished on?
How amusing.
Where did your smile go? Your pitch black mascara smeared, tainted with pearl tears. Glossed lips now chapped and dry. The overall makeover he was sure took a horrendous amount of preparation was replaced with an image of a decomposing corpse bride.
But he likes it.
Of course it would, why wouldn't he?
He wouldn't need to go through the tremendous hassle of butchering another one when you're all here, all ready to be his next corpse bride in collection.
It just needs a little more, a little more — effort.
To make you his perfect corpse bride.
Silence.
Nothing came.
Only a deafening silence in constant rhythm of beats, accompanied by (Name)'s rampant heart as the main vocal. The train's intercom and the sound of the train tracks was what served as the instruments, side vocals by the distant screaming ahead the carriage.
All of it, the entire piece of orchestration of all led by the conductor with his baton. However, the conductor was eerily silent. Weirdly, horrifyingly silent.
"Whose bride do we got here?"
A hiccup escape from the bride's throat as soon as those words reverberated from the conductors lips.
Amused by the unusual sight you don't often see everyday especially while boarding a train, the man let's put a satisfying groan as he sat down facing the bride, comfying himself for another break session.
He's sitting down? Are you fucking serious right now?!That particular sentence echoes beneath everyone's mind in varying volumes and expressions. No one knows how long will it take. But everyone was sure as hell didn't want him to sit that long.
Get lost. Just get fucking lost!
But one should know that one single wrong step is only a foolish's mistake.
Therefore, it was a silent agreement of all;
To stay still.
Do not anger the lion.
Or perhaps, the conductor if we were being classy here.
"Since you didn't hear it, I'll repeat my question," Jungwon grins behind the cat mask, "Where's your husband?"
An orchestration of a bloodbath; scream once, your head gone. Try to run, don't bother, just crawl. But Jungwon wouldn't mind a bit letting your head stay intact a little more, he just thought you would look a lot sweeter with your delicate face and piece of dress splattered with the perfect ingredient.
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© pieroulette (previously ateliertale)
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tender-rosiey · 2 years
Note
Protective husband Dazai 💳💥💳💳💥💥💳💥
how far — dazai x f!reader
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ᴀ/ɴ: this man makes me want to bark and give him my money
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“y/n! I am home!” dazai sings as he enters the house happily, a grin plastered on his face. a grin that falls as fast as he opens his eyes to see what’s in front of him.
broken glass, thrown furniture and blood.
he places the groceries he had on the ground and walks deeper inside your shared house. he catches the glimpse of a badge, and his eyebrows quirk. dazai takes a hold of it and examines it, the culprit is but a foolish amateur.
because rule number one is to leave no trace.
“listen up woman,” the scruffy man in front of you starts, “you either tell us everything you know about the agency or your head will be sent to your lanky boyfriend.”
you shake your in refusal, eyes swelling from the amount of tears you have cried in the past few hours already. “keep dreaming—,” you are cut off by yourself when you scream as another harsh kick is delivered to your side.
the man in front of you sighs and approaches you, forcefully tugging your hair up so you can look him in the eyes, “well if you can’t say anything, then you should at least do something,” he grins.
“boss, there is an intrud—“ the subordinate falls to the ground as he is shot in the head.
the man throws you to the ground, looking now at his men, “EVERYONE STOP HIM!”
to his surprise, none of the men took a step without being struck down. he could see nothing but his dead men; he could see nothing but a shadow, and that alone made him smirk, “you think you’re so good at hiding?!”
“I can just shoot this woman and you would—“ the man’s words die in his mouth as he slowly looks down at the knife tickling his throat.
soon, he locks eyes with the owner of the knife behind him.
the kidnapper smirks, despite his nerves, “oh so the crazy man is already here for his little wife?”
dazai is silent, watching the man which makes him panic even more.
“what? too scared to actually slice someone? is that why you only used a gun?—“ he stops once the knife nicks his throat, a small trail of blood flowing down his neck.
dazai smiles, an empty and cold one, “you said I am crazy right?”
your husband looks at you, “y/n, close your eyes,” his gaze snaps back to your kidnapper, “I don’t want you to see this.”
you whisper a small, “okay,” before doing as told.
a knife to the throat, and a gun to his back, the man gulps and dazai soon speaks.
“you seem to have underestimated just how far,” the knife caresses the throat of the man in front of him, “a ‘crazy’ man will go for his wife.”
you hear the sound of a slash, and the shot of a gun. your husband frowns in disapproval at the body below him, and he mumbles, “a painless death is something you don’t deserve for what you did.”
he flicks the blood of the knife and rubs its handle with a cloth, and you just noticed that he is wearing gloves.
dazai puts the knife in the man’s hand before sighing and getting up.
he walks towards you, steps cautious, “love, are you alright?”
“y-yeah,” you manage to get out before your eyes meet your husband’s and they slowly drift to the corpse lying ahead, “osamu, is that okay?”
he hums as he kneels down to help you up, frown deepening at the sight of your bruises.
“forgive me for having to witness that, but he,” dark gaze directed to the man for a split second before they meet your own in a much lighter and softer way, “shouldn’t have hurt you.”
“now,” he smiles, “let’s get you home, shall we?”
you rest your head on his chest and he caresses your hair, making you sigh in relief.
osamu’a grip on you tightens and he wonders if his actions are a step forward or backward to what his friend wanted for him, but for now he will acknowledge that he will do anything for you.
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taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @bakugossanity @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @luciferspen @sweetcloudsimp @waosobii
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copyright © 2020 tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or i will make you kiss the pavement
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fritz-federleicht · 1 year
Note
HOLA!!! <3
i really love how you write corpse and i was wondering if you can pls write a corpse x reader where corpse and the reader are on stream (they have their face cam on) playing truth or dare. so corpse dares the reader to shout out to the world how much they love him. so the reader hipsters in his ear and says “I love u” (basically insinuating that corpse is their world).
I don’t know if that made sense but yea😭☹️
Truth or dare?/ Corpse Husband x reader
Notes: I hope you meant it that way
Words: 485
FLUFF
Imagine Corpse streams with camera
--------------------------------------------
"Truth or dare Y/N?" Your boyfriend asks you.
"I don't know." You consider. "Dare!"
"All right. You have to..." Corpse runs a hand through his disheveled hair and looks at the chat. He's looking for a good task you have to do.
'Make her eat a spoonful of butter.'
'Have her post something embarrassing on Twitter.'
He doesn't like the ideas. He continues to stare at the chat until something good occurs to him. He looks up at you. His face brightens. A smile appears on his lips.
"What do I have to do? Tell me!" You straighten up and look at him expectantly. His smile widens even more.
You look at the camera. "Guys, what kind of idea did you give him?" "Okay Y/N." You turn back to Corpse as you hear his deep voice. "Are you ready for your task?"
You nod. "You can still switch to Truth. Last chance." He offers. You shake your head. "Now tell me. What do I have to do."
Corpse grins like a little kid when he gets his birthday presents. "You have to," He pauses. "Say how much you love me on stream."
You look at him, confused. Say how much you love him? That's your job? Your boyfriend wants you to say how much you love him on stream?
"You want me to say how much I love you?" Corpse nods. "Really? That's my job?"
"Yes. That's all I ask of you." Replies Corpse.
"It's a task I'm happy to perform, isn't it?" You straighten up in your chair and close your eyes.
"Corpse, my dearest Corpse. I love you more than anything. Even when we met in the stream of Sykkuno, I knew I would love you for the rest of my life." You open your eyes and look deep into his eyes. "You help me through bad times and always manage to put a smile on my face."
You reach for his hand, lean forward and whisper in his ear "I will love you forever."
Corpse cheeks turn red. "You're so sweet Y/N. I love you." Corpse leans in, puts his hand to your cheek and kisses you.
As you pull away from each other, you smile broadly. Then you remember that the whole thing happened in front of the audience.
You look at the chat.
'These two are so cute!
'I can't do this anymore.'
'I hope I'll be so happy too!'
You smile and read all the comments carefully.
"Hey Y/N. Can you hear me?" Corpse puts his hand on your knee and circles it with his thumb.
You look up from the screen. "Yeah yeah. I hear you."
"Shall we do something else now?" You nod.
You agree to react to a few videos. Corpse hand lies on your thigh all the time.
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Text
letting go ~ corpse husband
word count: 1972
request?: yes!
“Could i make a request for corpse?
Dad!corpse x reader where it’s their daughter’s first day of school of kindergarten and he is not really taking it well?”
description: on their daughter’s first day of kindergarten, he feels a whole bunch of emotions
pairing: corpse husband x female!reader
warnings: swearing
masterlist (one, two, three)
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You could remember the day your daughter was born like it was yesterday. When you held her in your arms for the first time you couldn’t believe how small she was, or the fact that she had come from your body. She had you and Corpse wrapped around your fingers from the very second she was born.
It felt like one day you were cradling the newborn girl, then you blinked, and suddenly she was a five year old little girl getting ready for her first day of school.
You were making her breakfast when you heard her footsteps thumping down the stairs. She appeared in the kitchen with a flourish, showing off her outfit for the day. Corpse came down behind her, a smile on his face as he looked at his baby girl.
“What do you think, mommy?” she asked.
“You look wonderful, baby,” you replied. “Did you pick it out yourself?”
“Daddy helped.”
That was evident by the black t-shirt with a cutesy skull on the front. Your daughter, Mia, was basically a perfect mini version of Corpse. Most days you couldn’t see a single aspect of you in her, even though Corpse swore that she was more you than him.
You plated breakfast for the three of you and put it on the table as the two of them sat down. Mia excitedly started shoveling her breakfast into her mouth.
“Hey, slow down,” you laughed. “You’re going to give yourself a bad tummy.”
“I’m excited, mommy! I want to go to school!”
“Sweetheart, we have almost an hour till we have to leave. You can take your time.”
It seemed to take a lot of control, but the young girl managed to slow here eating. You looked over at Corpse with an amused look, but he was looking intently at his own breakfast.
When she finished eating, Mia got up and ran back to her room to start packing her new backpack. You chuckled and took up the empty plates. Corpse was still sat at the table, still seeming very distant. You placed the dishes in the sink and walked back over to the table. You got Corpse’s attention by sitting on his lap and tilting his head back to look at you.
“Penny for your thoughts?” you asked.
He smiled and wrapped his arms around your waist. “I just can’t believe she starts school today.”
“I know. It feels like just yesterday she was sleeping on your chest while you were recording your horror stories.”
Corpse chuckled. “We’ll have to make sure she doesn’t repeat the bedtime stories she’s used to to any new friends.”
You kissed the top of Corpse’s head and wiggled off his lap. “I should make sure she’s not trying to pack her entire bedroom into her backpack. Do you wanna come?”
“I’ll clean up down here. We’ll regroup in time to bring Mia to school.”
You chuckled and headed up to Mia’s room.
~~~~~~
Nearly an hour later, Mia was strapped into her car seat and ready to go to school. She had been excitedly chattering for basically the entire hour. She had her whole day planned in a number of different ways. She had even planned who she was going to become friends with despite not even knowing who her classmates were.
She was unbuckled and tugging on the door handle before you even had the car in park. You and Corpse shared an amused look before getting out of the car. Corpse helped her out and he held her hand as the three of you crossed the parking lot to the school. The classroom meant for Mia’s class was already filled with other excited kids. It was a loud and hectic setting that you were afraid would scare Mia, but she welcomed it with excitement as she immediately ran up to the first group she saw.
A sweet young lady walked up to the two of you and introduced herself as Miss. Rebecca.
“I’m (Y/N), and this is my husband, Corpse. We’re Mia’s parents,” you said as you and Corpse shook her hand.
“It’s nice to meet you two. Seems like little Mia is already settling in with her classmates.”
You smiled as you watched your daughter playing with the other kids she had undoubtably considered to be her new friends.
“She’s been looking forward to this,” you said.
Mia could only be separated from her friend group by the idea of seeing her assigned seat and her cubby, which she immediately stuffed her backpack into. As the class was being called to start, you and Corpse knelt down to hug the young girl.
“We’ll be back in a few hours to pick you up,” you assured her. “But if you want us to come back any sooner, you can as Miss. Rebecca. Okay?”
“Yeah, okay. Bye mommy, bye daddy.”
She waved you off dismissively and returned to her new table mates. You chuckled and stood to leave. With one last look, you and Corpse reluctantly pulled yourselves away from the classroom. Your heart felt heavy having to go. No matter how much you prepared for this day leading up to it, you were not ready to see your baby girl grow up.
The car ride home was extremely quiet. Not even the radio was playing. It felt like you had just left Mia somewhere for the rest of your lives and not just for a few hours. When you pulled into the driveway, you both sat in silence after turning off the car. You heard Corpse sniffle and when you looked over, you saw tears running down his cheeks.
“Oh, honey,” you said, taking his hand.
“Sorry,” he croaked. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry, honey. I know this is hard.”
You ran your thumb along his knuckles as he wiped away his tears with his free hand.
“I never thought I’d ever be here,” he said. “Like with a wife and a kid. And now I have to send my little girl off into the real world and she’s still just a baby.”
“It’s the hardest part of being a parent,” you agreed. “First she’s going off to school, next she’ll be going on her first date.”
Corpse shook his head. “Absolutely not. She won’t be dating until I’m long dead.”
You chuckled and squeezed his hand. You leaned over to rest your head against his shoulder despite your seatbelt still tugging on you to sit back. You didn’t want to go into the house yet, and it was very obvious that he didn’t want to either.
“I don’t want to let go yet,” he said.
“We’re not really letting go, though,” you said. “She’s only in kindergarten. She’ll be out of the house for a couple hours on weekdays, and then she’s home all night and on weekends. We have another year until we truly have to let her go into the world.”
“But what about when she makes friends and wants to go to their houses or to the playground with them and their parents?”
“Well, then we let her go without us. After we’ve made sure the parents are nice and we trust them, obviously. But it had to happen eventually. The only friends she’s had have been her own family, or when our friends bring over their kids every now and then. Socialization will do her good. How else is she supposed to find her own little Amgops gang.”
Corpse smiled. You knew exactly how to bring him out of this funk, even if you were also feeling the same emotions he was.
“It feels like we haven’t had her long enough,” Corpse said. “Five is way too young to be letting her fly the nest.”
You giggled and shook your head. “She won’t fly the nest until she’s 18 at the earliest. We still have her for another 13 years. We just have to get used to not having a little tike running around the house 12 hours a day.”
Corpse made a noise in response, but he was once again looking off without focus. You squeezed his hand again, which drew his attention over towards you.
“We can always use this time to ourselves to try and make another baby to fill the void while Mia’s gone,” you pointed out.
A knowing grin crossed Corpse’s lips. You moved your head so that you could kiss him before the two of you took off your seatbelts and rushed to the front door to get inside.
~~~~~~
A few hours later, you and Corpse were waiting outside the school for class to be dismissed. You weren’t the only early parents, and you certainly weren’t the only ones who were excitedly waiting to have your kid back in your arms.
When the doors opened, a flood of kindergarten kids rushed out. Most of them were still conversing with one another - showing off toys and trying to continue their playtime instead of going right to their parents. Mia was one of the last few to come out, two other young girls following her as they went. From afar you could see that there was something else on her shirt next to the skull, and the closer she got, the easier it was to make out: it was a skull sticker.
When she noticed you and Corpse stood by your car, her face lit up and she ran the rest of the way. Her little arms were outstretched to Corpse as she called, “Daddy!”
He picked her up in his arms and gave her a big kiss on her cheek. “How was your day, sweetheart?”
“It was amazing, daddy!” Mia exclaimed. “I made so many friends, but these two - ” She gestured to where the two other girls had been, but they were now with their own parents talking about their day. “ - are my best friends: Laura and Dani.”
“I’m glad you had such a good day, honey,” Corpse said. “What’s the sticker on your shirt?”
“This boy at my table had a bunch of stickers in his backpack. He wouldn’t share with anyone else, but he said this one reminded him of me because of the skull on my shirt, so he gave it to me!”
You and Corpse shared a look. You had a feeling you’d be hearing more about whoever this sticker boy was as the year went on.
Corpse put Mia in her car seat as she continued to give you both a play by play of her entire day, and about how excited she was to go back to school again tomorrow. You were almost home when she added, “But I missed you guys a lot.”
You peaked at her in the rear view mirror. “Are you sure? It sounds like you had too busy of a day to miss us.”
“Of course I missed you! I made so many new friends, but they don’t play the same as you and daddy do. They don’t like the ghost stories I tell with my dolls.”
You glanced over at Corpse, who was trying to stifle a laugh. “That’s my girl alright.”
“You’ll just have to teach them that your ghosts are friendly,” you told Mia. “But I’m sure they’ll learn to play the same way we do with you, or you’ll learn to play different with them.”
“No, I don’t want to play with the dolls the way they do. It’s boring. They just want to kiss the boy dolls and have baby dolls. They don’t even want to do scary stories about houses being haunted by scary old lady dolls.”
Corpse put a hand over his mouth to muffle his laugh. You looked over at him, an amused smile on your face.
“That’s your girl,” you said.
“That’s our girl,” he corrected.
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wangxianficfinder · 7 months
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In the mood for...
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1. Tw noncon Can someone write a fic of wen Ning getting gangraped by Jin disciples in front of wen qing as revenge for what the other wens did?
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2. Can you recommend any fics with Wen Ning as a POV character?
In My Defence, I Have None (For Never Leaving Well Enough Alone) by SemiLocalCryptid (T, 73k, wangxian, Time Travel Fix-It, Established Relationship, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, POV NHS, but only for the first chapter, POV Alternating, between Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi for the rest, WWX may have no sense of self preservation but he does have a husband, No one touches LWJ's husband, NHS has no more fucks to give and will save his brother just watch him, WN is very confused about needing to breathe again, but is ultimately happy about it, BAMF WN, WN needs a hug, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, WQ is a queen and everyone should fear her, Fluff, Inventor WWX, Gratuitous amounts of Wangxian fluff, WIP) wen ning is a pov character here
The Moon Reflected Upon Two Springs by Rubberduckieassassin (M, 2k, Post-Canon, Fierce Corpse wn, WN-centric, Farmer WN, WN Needs a Hug, Gūsū Lán Juniors Dynamics, Good Kid LSZ, Good Kid LJY, Wen Remnants Mentioned, Burial Mounds Settlement Days Mentioned, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Five Stages of Grief, Melancholy, Building A Home, Family Feels, W>N is learning how to 'live' again)
waiting (when the colors come) by frostferox (G, 2k, WN/WWX/LWJ, Modern, realizing polyam might be an option, Domesticity, Friendship)
Granny Knows Best by The_Snarkivist (T, 5k, OYZZ/WN, JL/LSZ, Getting Together, Fluff, Accidental Elderly Acquisition, WN Centric, Let Wen Ning Be Happy Agenda, Happy Ending, fast burn, Granny does know best, POV WN, Post-Canon)
Fierce Friends by TumblingTroublesomeTumbleweeds (G, 32k, NMJ & WN; SL & WN, NMJ & SL & WN, NMJ/LXC, SL/XXC, JC/WN, Friendship, Give Wēn Níng Friends, Cinnamon Roll WN, Rabbits, NMJ’s body does NOT cooperate, WN Centric, Everyone loves WN, Dysfunctional Family, Found Family, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Graphic Depictions of Pining, heart eyes motherfucker, WIP) it switches though
This Time With Confidence. by INSPIRETOWRITE (T, 129k, LWJ/WWX/WN, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Angst, Time Travel Fix-It, Action/Adventure, Polyamory, Developing Relationship, LWJ has feelings, Cute, Blood and Gore, Cultivation Sect Politics, Demonic Cultivation, Pining, WN-centric, Rabbits, POV Multiple, Action, War, Battle, Eventual Happy Ending, Developing Friendships, WN is a cinnamon roll, Bad-ass WN, WWX has feelings, They don't know they have the same feeling until later, Cultivation Discussion Conferences, POV WN, Slow Burn, WIP)
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3. Hello! Could I ask, for the next ITMF for fics where wwx experiences qi deviation of some kind? Thank you very much!
Twelve Moons and a Fortnight by stiltonbasket (M, 290k, WangXian, Humor, Slow Burn, Post-Canon Fix-It, Long-Distance Relationship, Epistolary, Love Letters, Family Feels, a-qing lives, teenage romance, Adoption, Romantic Comedy, Happy Ending, Weddings, Case Fic, Parenthood, Politics)
Confrontation by LtLJ (G, 21k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, discussion of a canon suicide attempt, breaks from canon during the timeskip, BAMF WWX, BAMF Everybody, Canon-Typical Violence, JC &WWX Reconciliation, BAMF NHS, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, YLLZ WWX, Complicated Relationships, canon-typical curses, Canon-Typical Behavior) It is part 4 of a series so it makes more sense to start with the first one which is Brotherhood
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4. CW: Trauma
Good day! I saw "Life as a house" by Terri Botta from the previous ITMF. I gave it a shot and read it, it is well written and I enjoyed the process of how they recover from their trauma, the reconciliation, and everything. For the next ITMF, do you guys know any fic that is close to this fic? Similar in terms of their journey to heal from their past/trauma, from seeing psychiatrist, discussing mental health, or about therapy. @httpskaixx
总有一天; a place to hide (can’t find one near) by yiqie (E, 76k, WangXian, Modern AU, Pianist, Getting Together, Mental Health Issues, Suicide Attempt, Suicidal Thoughts, Depression, Hospitals, Overdosing, Eventual Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Warnings In Author's Note)
Many happy returns. by orange_crushed (E, 25k, WangXian, Modern AU, Mistaken Identity, Misunderstandings, Grief/Mourning, Loss of Parent(s), Implied/Referenced Suicide, Past Suicide of a Parent, References to Depression, Anxiety, Therapy, References to Anti-Depressant Medications, Escort Service, Loneliness, Everybody’s Abandonment Issues, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Moving In Together, Oral Sex, Penetrative Sex, Hopeful Ending, Recovery, References to Escorting/Sex Work but No Actual Escorting/Sex Work)
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5. Want recommendations for slow burn angsty stories of wangxian
Concord by Deastar (T, 41k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Gūsū Lán Sect Rules, Depression, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending)
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6. Hi! ITMF wangxian cuddle porn or just lwj being so comforting for wwx and vice versa. It would be amazing if that was incorporated in longer fics though anything would be welcomed. Something for reference is “A Cyborg's Three Laws” by FairyGardenCorgis and “try a little tenderness” by ilip13. Thank you so much!
Just Ask Me To Stay by mrcformoso (M, 20k, WangXian, Modern AU, Former JZ/WWX, Minor NieLan, Minor XuanLi, No Powers, Dancer WWX, Musician LWJ, Roommates, Best Friends, Friends to Lovers, Break Up, Post-Break Up, Recovery, WWX Has Self-Esteem Issues, Fluff, Light Angst, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Oral Sex, Domestic Fluff, LWJ Has a Big Dick, WWX Has a Breeding Kink, Size Queen WWX, Belly Bulge, Porn With Plot, WWX Has Friends, LWJ Has Friends, Hurt/Comfort, A lot of comfort, Romantic Comedy, Cuter story than the summary makes it out to be, Feel-good) modern!AU cuddly lwx cheering post-breakup wwx
The Art of Communication by mrcformoso (G, 4k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Meet-Cute, Engineering Student WWX, Music Student LWJ, Swimmer WWX, Martial Artist LWJ, POV Outsider, POV WWX, POV LWJ, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Communication Issues, But Wanxian Makes it Work, LWJ has limited words, WWX has too many words, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Love Languages, Requited Love) ModernAU! Soft Wangxian where they make their communication issues work
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7. Hello again! I want to ask for a itmf about powerhouse wwx, inspired from this post
More detailed: The Scene with the water ghouls, wwx proposes to jump in the water (bc hes just that strong) in combination with lwjs thoughts and competency kink? Please? I hope that was understandable, English isn‘t my first language, sorry. @desperation-is-my-middle-name
Truth Will Out (when caught on video) - End_OTW_Racism! by KizuKatana (E, 108k, wangxian, WN & WWX & WQ, graphic depictions of violence, modern cultivation, canon divergence, YZY abuses WWX , caught on camera, partial core removal, WWX kicked out of Jiang sect, livestreamer WWX, meet ugly, dual cultivation, smut, no war, WIP)
My chain hits my chest/When I’m bangin’ on the radio by x_los (T, 2k, wangxian, modern w/ magic, case fic, competence kink, YLLZ WWX)
Howling by MimiSpearmint (E, 40k, wangxian, LSZ & WWX, Modern with Magic, Mortal Instruments Fusion, Horror, Eldritch, Domestic Fluff, Single Parent WWX, Witchcraft, Northern Ireland, fluffy but I cannot emphasise how much horror there will be, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Case Fic, Getting Together, shifter lwj, yllz wwx, Intercrural Sex, Hand Jobs, Angst with a Happy Ending, playing fast and loose with canon, off-screen beloved character death, Switch wangxian, a bit of a degradation kink, anti-STI sex talismans, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Cameos by various characters)
hills and rivers by LtLJ (T, 56k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Fluff, Family Feels, Canon-Typical Violence, the family that hunts demons together stays together, and doesn’t murder each other, Case Fic, BAMF WWX, Mojo’s post)
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8. itmf some good ol' damsel in distress lwj @jawla-mukhi
silk threads and precious metal by Sevidri (M, 4k, WangXian, Canon-Typical Violence, Sunshot Campaign, Whump, Blood and Injury, WWX' Canonical Vengeful Streak, LWJ Makes A Beautiful Damsel in Distress, Non-Consensual Ribbon Touching, Protective wwx, Hurt LWJ)
Vagabond by xantissa (E, 65k, wangxian, Slow Burn, Mystery, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Frottage, Case Fic, murders, Supernatural, Angst, Fluff, those two are so in love it hurts, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, badass LXC, Canon-Typical Violence, topLWJ, Bottom LWJ)
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9. Itmf time travel fics where Wei Wuxian is caught in a time loop reliving the Sunshot Campaign and ensuing Burial Mounds years over and over until he can save everyone? Thank you!
Karma by English is my death (Lena013) (T, 2k, JGY/XY/WWX, wangxian, LXC/JGY, XY/XXC, Time Loop, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Misfortune Fellows, JGY & WWX Friendship, JGY & XY Friendship, WWX & XY Friendship, (but they all hate each other), White-Haired WWX, But temporarily, XY is a Brat, XY Is A Little Shit, POV JGY, YLLZ WWX, Drama, Drabble, Humor, Immortal WWX, Immortal XY, Immortal JGY, These are cut pieces from their eternity together, By this point they had become insane)
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10. Hi! I was hoping you could help me bc I was on Twitter & saw someone else mention that they wanted to read it but I was hoping that you had any fics where YLLZ!WWX time travels to the future? (Possibly ends up shtupping himself along the way.) I can’t remember if there are any besides ‘a tide between two seas’ but I know that’s more multi-verse travel! @arisuamichan
不忘 | Don’t Forget by dragongirlG (E, 50k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Reincarnation, Fix-It of Sorts, Identity Porn, Social Media, Devotion, Reunions, Feelings, Family, Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Bondage, Names, References to Canon, Modern Era, Artist WWX, Sexual Content, Pining, POV Multiple, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note)
忘不了你的爱 (can’t forget your love) by PorcupineGirl (G, 25k, WangXian, Time Travel, Modern with Magic, Modern Cultivators AU, Canon Divergence, Time Traveler WWX, discussion of canonical character deaths, a whole lot of handwaving, conveniently localized fires, Discussion of Canonical Suicide Attempt, mostly happy but slightly bittersweet ending) first fic in a series
so when you go wherever it is you will go, take the moon with you by comforting_monachopsis (T, 115k, WWX & WWX, WWX & WN, WWX & WQ, wangxian, JYL & WWX & JC, past WWX/SS, past WWX/XY, Thirteen Years of WWX's Death, Canon Divergence, Literary References & Allusions, Time Travel, Dimension Travel, Private Investigators, Private Investigator WWX, Professor LWJ, Trauma, Serial Killers, Strangers to Lovers, BAMF WWX, Hurt WWX, WWX Needs Therapy, Modern Era, WIP)
atlas in his sleepin’ by anatheme (E, 48k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Reincarnation, Family Reunions, Dimension Travel, temporary transmigration, Transmigrator!LWJ, Angst with a happy ending)
drop me down to the dream below by AroPeterWam (E, 44k, wangxian, WWX & XY, Time Travel, Comfort/Angst, basically there is reincarnation and because of that WWX lives in both timelines, changes had to be made to fit this story, JC comes to terms with his emotions, Angst with a Happy Ending, Reincarnation, POV Alternating, ooc because different lives, fluff, Canon Divergence, Memory Related, explicit for like that one scene, Adopted WWX, sick WWX, Dimension Travel, Noncultivator WWX, JC & WWX Reconciliation, XY Deserves Better, time swap, WIP)
Horseshoes and Hand Grenades by Phantomhill (T, WWX & Juniors, JL/LJY, OYZZ/A-QIng, wangxian, College/University AU, Modern, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Minor Original Character(s), Background Relationships, Murder, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Character Death, the juniors are doing their best, NHS has plans, not a reincarnation fic, JYL lives, JZX lives, WIP)
worm moon by serein (E, 103k, JC/WWX/LWJ, Post-Canon, Mystery, Angst, Humor, Grief/Mourning, PTSD, Identity Issues, Demonic Cultivation, eventual polyamory, Cults, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied past cannibalism, Switching, Canon-Typical Violence, Doppelganger, POV Alternating, Character Study, Explicit Sexual Content, Reverse Golden Core Reveal, mild horror elements)
So Call Me a Pessimist, but I Don’t Believe in It by Anonymous (Not Rated, 127k, WIP, WangXian, Food Issues, Family Feels, WWX is a music teacher, WN and WWX are Best Friends from the future, They use memes to talk covertly, Transmigrator WWX, transmigration au, Slow Burn) This is the opposite but I think OP will LOVE it
refrain; a musical phrase repeating in a song or instrumental piece Series by Cerusee, Mikkeneko (T/G, 51k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Sort Of, Memory Loss, Canon-typical dismemberment, Post-Series, but also mid-series ya feel, Changing Tenses, Protective LWJ, Everybody Lives, Confused WWX, Crack Treated Seriously) This is… also the opposite? Sorta? In which everyone from the future gets pulled back except for him
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11. itmf hostage!LWJ, with WWX going berserk, kinda
silk threads and precious metal by Sevidri (M, 4k, WangXian, Canon-Typical Violence, Sunshot Campaign, Whump, Blood and Injury, WWX' Canonical Vengeful Streak, LWJ Makes A Beautiful Damsel in Distress, Non-Consensual Ribbon Touching, Protective wwx, Hurt LWJ) (link in #8)
the field meets the wood by astronicht (T, 7k, WangXian, BAMF WWX, slight whump, Ritualistic Self Harm, Canon Era, Tang Dynasty style, Blood Loss, Blood and Injury, salt economics, Post-Canon, [Podfic] the field meets the wood by semperfiona_podfic (semperfiona), [podfic] the field meets the wood by jellyfishfire)
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12. I'm holding out serious hope for some pride and prejudice au wangxian. I don't care about setting or time period, I just want that delicious Lizzy/Darcy dynamic with LWJ being a classist dick to WWX and instead of just trying harder and harder WWX's like fuck that asshole and then then oh no, LWJ falls in love and WWX wants none of it. (I mean, I'd love a subplot where LWJ tries to talk JZX out of marrying JYL, too, but not strictly necessary). Any pics out there remotely like this? @moku-youbi
In Wanting by thaliagrayce (T, 39k, wangxian, Enemies to Lovers, Inspired by Pride and Prejudice, Miscommunication, No Sunshot Campaign, we are ignoring all of the canon political drama to substitute our own, non-graphic depictions of torture, cw: offscreen XY)
Clans and Cultivation by ChalionKat (G, 81k, WIP, WangXian, XuanLi, ChengQing, SongXiao, Regency, Pride and Prejudice Fusion)
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13. Hi! 🤗 It's me, again. 😅
For the next ITMF, lately I'm looking for fics where WWX gets pregnant of LWJ. I'd prefer not abo fics, but if there is some good, it's ok too. I love Canon Divergence fics, Cloud Recesses arc, only the bad people dies and happy endings.
Thank you so much! ❤️😊 @wangxiansgirl
Unexpected Lullaby by SilverStark (T, 30k, WangXian, Minor Original Character(s), Unplanned Pregnancy, Post-Canon, Mpreg, Non-ABO, Fluff, Established Relationship, Reconciliation, Family, Dual Cultivation Baby)
🧡 Many Lan babies Series by LuckyMoonly (Varied, 396k, WIP, WangXian, Story collection, Mpreg, Pregnant WWX only, Family Fluff, Found Family, Kid fics)
Impermanence, Transience, Permanence by Best Bepsy (BepsyGray) (E, 39k, wangxian, canon divergence, unplanned pregnancy, mpreg, gore, sunshot campaign, assumed miscarriage, medical procedures, childbirth, golden core reveal)
Until The End by abCEE (M, 365k, wangxian, canon divergence, communication, established relationship, sunshot campaign, mpreg, canon typical violence, WWX has new golden core, canonical character death, happy ending, fix-it of sorts)
🧡 Like Rabbits by Setari (T, 41k, WangXian, Kid fic, Canon rewrite, Mpreg, Miscarriage scare, Crack treated seriously, Hopeful ending)
And they can always check the pregnancy comps! A/B/O is always tagged, so it can be avoided!
🧡 Accidents Will Happen by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 45k WangXian, Post Canon, Mpreg, Fluff, Light angst) I'm absolutely obsessed with
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14. Hello! 👋 I just find this blog and I saw that we can ask fics. This is for In the mood for.
My favorites fics are the ones where Wwx comes back in time and fix everything, get together with Lwj soon and saves everyone. I love longer fics. Thanks ☺️
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15. For itmf I was wondering if anyone had some recs for ChengXian mpreg with WWX as the carrier. @dragonfairies
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16. Hello! For my ITMF I'm looking for a fic where wwx flinches/gets scared from the Zidian (either held my jc or yzy) and people find out about his ptsd with the whip? Just want some justice and comfort for our bb boi @mrcformoso
🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 686k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement) So none that I can think of exactly, but this one has some tasty, tasty justice
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17. Hey, Im looking to read a fic or 2 where WWX wasnt in control of himself during his “k ll everyone faze” after the Wens are k lled and/or when his eyes turn red. So I guess like a burial mounds possession type deal? And if WWX is like seeing it all from inside, watching as all this tragedy unfolds at what he interprets as his own hand, for spice. May I have a fic rec or as many as you can find, please? @0call-me-rin0
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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***
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thanksjro · 23 hours
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More Than Meets the Eye #50 — The Midlife Crisis Cruise Comes to an End
Our issue begins on Earth— not Swearth, but honest-to-god Earth— where Optimus Prime and Jetfire are watching a broadcast. It’s not syndicated television like I Love Lucy or The Transformers (1984), however. No, this broadcast is coming from some of our favorite Lost Lighters, detailing their last will and testament.
Nautica wants to be buried on her home planet, and doesn’t give a hot gay fuck what they engrave on her sparkcase. Also she’s missing a good chunk of her face, but don’t worry about that too much.
Chromedome’s just happy that he’s dying WITH his husband this go around. I’m sure Brainstorm’s also thrilled to not have the “please please please stop stabbing yourself in the brain to avoid the pain of being a widower Jesus Christ we can’t keep doing this”.
Rewind takes the opportunity to poke Chromedome in the inferiority complex one last time, making his message out to Dominus Ambus. Our resident lovebirds want to “enter the after spark simultaneously”, though that seems more like something to address with whoever’s killing them.
Over on Cybertron, in Metroplex’s titties, it would seem this broadcast is VERY wideband, as Starscream and Scoop (we’ll go over whatever the fuck’s going on there in another post) witness Nightbeat’s will and testament, though considering Nightbeat’s technically undead, I’m not sure how much legal weight it holds. Having done the whole “dying” thing before, I’m sure he’s spent many a long, sleepless night thinking about how it would happen next time. Ikea Johnson wants a “Neoprimalist” funeral, where they preserve only the head. Interesting that Nightbeat's religious sect is the same as Flywheels, the Scavenger who only existed to be a stand-in for the word "fuck".
Over on Luna 1, Red Alert is convinced that Megatron is using his gun mode to threaten Nightbeat. Fort Max isn’t so sure.
Minimus shows off the most recent trick he’s learned, saying the word “fun” with only stuttering twice. He wants to be buried on the moon, next to all of Rodimus’s failed pregnancies, and wearing the skin of a man who’s been dead for thousands of years.
Whirl doesn’t want a funeral, though you’d think he’d at least want his corpse thrown in the general direction of the Wreckers’ base, where every member gets a slot in the Zone of Remembrance as part of the onboarding. I know he got kicked out, but being shot out of a rail gun at Debris sounds roughly his speed.
Rung only requests that, should he die in his vape pen form, that he be dismantled. He’s so committed to preventing underage smoking, and for that I commend him.
Rung’s request greatly disturbs the Scavengers, who seem to have forgone fixing the Krok-shaped hole in the wall and buying a couch more than two of them can sit on at a time, in order to afford a replacement TV, after Krok fastball-specialed a golden disc through the last one.
On another part of Cybertron, Windblade and Wheeljack watch Velocity state that she doesn’t regret a single thing that’s happened while she’s been a part of the Lost Light. To recap, in the few months Velocity’s been aboard: Thunderclash almost died of being too perfect, Velocity’s first boss ran off to go bang a billionaire with a sword collection, Swerve almost died from too much television, her second boss ran off to get roped into the Polycule Wars, Tailgate exploded, Rung was revealed to be practicing without a license by way of a weird gibbon with a ball gag and his serial killer boyfriend, and she became the only practicing medical professional aboard a ship of over 200, after failing to pass her medical exams ten times. Oh, and she wants to be recycled.
Optimus wants to go save them, thinking that there’s still time. However, the Lost Light isn’t responding, and it doesn’t actually matter anyhow— these recording were sent out weeks ago.
Looks like that’s a series wrap on Nautica, Chromedome, Rewind, Nightbeat, Minimus, Whirl, Rung, and Velocity! Let’s give ‘em a hand, folks!
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Three weeks prior, on the planet of Miliarium, action is happening:
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Being on your headset in the middle of a battle seems rather rude, but I suppose sacrifices to politeness have to be made, when one of your co-captains is effectively forbidden from stepping foot on any planet that’s aware of Cybertron’s existence, given that he, y’know, is the face of a cause that slaughtered billions over the course of millions of years.
(No, don’t ask Optimus how relations with Earth are going.)
Megatron, continuing to command from orbit, tells Whirl to go help Cyclonus and Crossblades with the Rust Giants’ longship, asking for no casualties. Which is sort of like asking a horse on cocaine to not freak out and kick someone in the head, if that horse also had guns tied to 30% of its body.
Rodimus asks Megatron if he’s enjoying himself, playing a pacifist run of a wartime strategy game with their lives, and Megatron says that he’s “rumbled”; which I’m not sure if I’m search-engining wrong, but I don’t know that even the British are saying that to mean they’re right chuffed or tallywackered about a situation, or whatever. Rodimus is suddenly faced with a Rust Giant that he doesn’t even come up to the knee of, but luckily we have a new superhero to save the day, by way of incredible violence.
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Looks like we’re still workshopping the battle-cries.
Tailgate punched this guy so hard it cause a jump-cut to the post-battle celebration, where Rodimus shows off his multi-typefacial abilities, Megatron perpetrates his bigotry towards organics, the Cybertronians make galactic news for a not-awful reason for once, and Swerve is also here! For some reason! It looks like it’s gonna be all peaches and cream from here on, so long as we ignore the first three pages of this issue!
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Hey, Cyclonus, you have to wait for him to call you, you're not an Autobot. Just because the little white guy you're Sufjan Stevens-level attached to is going, doesn't mean— Cyclonus, hey. Hey, Cyclonus. Cyclonus. Cycl—
Later, back on the Lost Light, class is in session. We finally get a look at those course Megatron’s been teaching, only briefly mentioned by Riptide in issue #29. The current course track is on the Knights of Cybertron, Megatron having assigned those in attendance to write essays tackling “pre-Functionist folklore and contested heritage”.
Today’s class consists of:
Minimus (old as balls, former high society)
Skids (the best at everything)
Brainstorm (literal genius)
Perceptor (slightly-less-literal genius)
Nautica (jack-of-all-trades brainiac and bibliophile)
Crosscut (former senator, current playwright, therefore probably has at least some sort of degree)
Nightbeat (nosy as fuck, loves to figure shit out)
Hound (former Primal Vanguard)
Thunderclash (perfect student, researcher, friend, confidante, and maybe even lover)
Grapple (not much to say here, other than he’s fucking jacked in IDW)
Xaaron (chief legal advisor for the Autobots)
And Riptide (created during the war and therefore has the least connection to Cybertron's folklore, canonically not a good test-taker)
Poor Riptide's grades don’t stand a snowball's chance in hell against his peers', but good on him for sticking with the classes regardless.
This essay was assigned to help students establish context for the Knights within a world where they have not existed for millions of years, having disappeared since they embarked on their quest to Cyberutopia; a world where information creep, the slow degradation of memory as time passes, has made them into mythological figures. Megatron posits that the only thing we really know about the Knights is that they failed to do what they set out to do, as the universe is not a peaceful place, himself arguably being exhibit A of that failure. Still, he intends to use this course to help the Lost Light’s crew understand the Knights to the best of their current, modernity-biased ability, prior to potentially meeting them. Considering that the Knights will be deciding Megatron’s fate, perhaps this is also for him to grapple with understanding his own end.
Anyway, let’s look at a plot device.
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The last time we saw this symbol was during issue #46, both drawn by Grimlock on his walls, paired with the words “prepare confront repel”, and then on some mysterious fellows who were working with Krok’s nasty little friend Demus and someone called "The Grand Architect". However, the first time we saw it was with Skids in #21, after he went through Tyrest’s space bridge and talked to a giant technicolor ball of light.
Seeing this image kickstarts Skids’s memory, enough so that he interrupts class over it. Nautica has also seen this symbol, at an exhibit on Troja Major (a planet that Roberts will use as a dumping ground for many plot points in the sequel series to MTMTE) where it was claimed to be some sort of coat of arms. Thunderclash also knows this symbol, having seen it with his beautiful mind and kind heart in his visions, the same visions that were leading him to the Knights and allowing him to create a map to Cyberutopia. Nautica asks Skids to write out the symbol that he “heard” phonetically into her space phone, in a move that will prove HIGHLY useful later on. Perceptor adds in his two cents, showing off that he’s wearing the “feminine” nose-type today, stating that he had talked to one of the Circle of Light members back in Season 1, who had theorized that the Knights of Cybertron was either originally made up of OR broke down into clans, and that the symbol/map Rodimus and Thunderclash were drawing is merely connected to part of the Knights, and that there could be others floating around.
Nightbeat thinks that all this brainstorming (which hasn’t involved Brainstorm, oddly enough) is super cool and great, showing off his anime thumb in approval. When Minimus tries to give Megatron props for bringing everyone together to figure this out, he finds that Megatron is having some troubles, hunched over his podium as far as his fucked up old man toy articulation will allow. When Minimus approaches to see what’s wrong, he gets punched clear across the room for his troubles. Then this happens:
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Look, I don’t care if 99.9% of the Cybertronian population can reclaim, you shouldn’t just limp your wrist at your first officer in the middle of class.
No, what Megatron is actually doing is pointing the fusion cannon he doesn’t have anymore, but had attached to his arm for roughly 4 million years, directly at Minimus’s tiny little skull. Quickly coming back to himself, Megatron is both horrified and mortified by what he’s done, offering nothing more but a quick apology before he dismisses the class and bolts, not even helping Minimus off of the floor.
The following day, Velocity’s paying a visit to Megatron’s room, which is STILL as barren as the most dire of single male living spaces. Velocity’s here because Megatron missed his appointment yesterday, after whatever happened in the classroom. Megatron reminds her that the weekly appointment is for him receiving his ration of “fool’s energon” which is meant to keep him in a weakened state, which arguably shouldn’t make it medicine in the traditional sense. Velocity reminds him that he nearly knocked Minimus Ambus’s (yeah, she uses his full name, guess she’s not been around long enough to get “just Minimus” privileges) block off, and that if Megatron had been at full strength, we might be dealing with a murder situation instead.
Though Minimus IS a load bearer, who regularly slings around a body three times his size, on top of weapons, so maybe not. Also, there’s an even smaller guy inside the first mustached guy, so honestly it’d probably be fine.
Does Velocity even know about the irreducible Minimus? Is that in his medical history? Does she even know that Ultra Magnus and Minimus Ambus are the same person? Because Megatron didn’t even know until they found that corpse on the quantum duplicate Lost Light, and Magnus was his lawyer for the trial as well as being his SIC. Really, what are the legal ramifications of Minimus having assumed the identity of a dead man, now that Tyrest isn’t there to keep up the charade and the secret is a bit more open? Does Minimus have legal claim to Magnus’s identity, or at least ownership of the armor? Can Minimus lay claim to any property he purchased as Magnus, or that the previous Magnuses had purchased prior to their deaths? Was Minimus legally declared dead prior to undertaking the role of Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord, if only to make things easier in terms of paperwork? Can Minimus sign off on things, and if so, does he use his own signature, or Magnus’s? If he signed something as Magnus, would any contract bearing it be rendered temporarily void whenever he’s not wearing his work pants? How much of Minimus’s existence makes him cry late into the night with how legally dubious it is? Does Delta Magnus know about Ultra Magnus being a skin suit? I feel like we don’t focus on how fucked up this whole situation is nearly enough.
Anyway, Velocity asks after Megatron’s medicine, probably because First Aid’s medical note-taking skills often get usurped by his need to write SpringerxReader fanfiction. She mentions that what they’ve been feeding Megatron over the last year have some side effects, which Megatron seems surprised by. Considering he’s felt sickly and crampy this whole time, the side effects are likely meant to be the intent of the medication.
Velocity then takes a gander at the dents Megatron put into his head when he had his little freakout, stating that “chemo-sedatives” can change one’s whole personality in extreme cases, as well as increased stress levels, as Megatron admits that the reason he crushed his head with his hands is that he heard voices screaming. However, Megatron doesn’t think stress caused such a thing.
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To recap how the last year has gone for Megatron: he was forced to renounce the cause he had led for the last 4 million years, became co-captain of a fucking Carnival cruise ship, had 95% of his crew disappear from reality, found a bunch of corpses, got slapped in the face by Soundwave’s dad, had to lie to Rewind’s face to make him okay with killing himself so that everyone else might live, got shot as an infant, gaining anywhere from three-to-five fathers as a result, visited the most passive-aggressive garden in the galaxy, got stabbed in the chest and brained with a flat-screen television and then had to apologize for it, and was non-consensually hugged by a swarm of flesh-eating insects parading around in his SIC’s skin suit.
Velocity gets a call on her smart watch, Swerve on the other end demanding her presence at the medibay, seeing as she’s the only doctor on the ship now, and there are multiple people having a crisis.
Smash cut to Swerve, Cyclonus, Tailgate, Chromedome, Rewind, Rung, and Megatron standing on the bridge, their colors looking super fucked up and light bloomed out, because this is a 40-page issue with a shit-ton of detail and characters, so we’ve got three colorists, two artists, and an extra inker on for this one. They’re meeting with Rodimus, whose fingers have shrunk down to the size of shoestring potato fries, because Swerve, Tailgate, Rewind, Rung, and Megatron heard some sort of awful noise in their brains at the exact same time. Chromedome is here to support his husband, because he loves him so, so much, kissy-noise kissy-noise. Cyclonus is here mainly to clarify that he’s a badass who no one has ever heard cry, because emotional vulnerability and expressing pain are for pussies, unless you’re doing it by way of self-harming directly onto your face meat.
Only Tailgate and Rewind actually admit to what they heard, Tailgate hearing Cyclonus berate him for falling for Getaway’s tricks and Rewind hearing Dominus berate him for not doing enough to find him. I’d imagine both Rung and Swerve were hearing things relating to their professionalism, given that Rung fucking sucks at his job, and Swerve’s gonna fry the moment Ten gets a union sorted out. Megatron, is well, Megatron, so there’s a litany of awful things that he could have heard.
Rodimus has Blaster reveal that the ship received a signal at the exact same time that these people had their little brain event. Brainstorm hypothesizes that what happened was some sort of psychological assault, perhaps of Galactic Council origin, as a means of testing a new brain weapon. Magnus, who has been up on an upper level with a clipboard up to this point, notes that they could trace the signal. Mainframe informs him that they have, but the origin doesn’t seem to correspond to any known location in the navigation, and they’d have to physically go there to see what’s up. Which isn’t sketchy in the slightest.
Rodimus wants to load up on his big, beautiful Rodpod with everyone, so they can find who did this and make them stop. When Magnus questions if this is a wise course of action, Rodimus uses American grammar to trip up Magnus’s British-based spellcheck, so he gets to do whatever he wants. This is a trick he’s picked up since Drift left, as the old game of “pitting my people-pleaser hippy dippy boytoy and my no-nonsense stick-up-the-ass sentient rulebook against one another, so whatever I wanted to do from the start can seem like a pleasantly centralized option” doesn’t work very well when you replace the boytoy with a grumpy old man who tried to murder everything with a heartbeat.
Velocity wants to join the trip alongside Team Rodimus, but Mainframe has his reservations. I don’t blame him, considering she is, again, the only medical doctor currently on board this ship. He suggests she take along some personal protection, just in case.
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…I mean, he’ll definitely make sure any bad guys who come her way will die horribly, if nothing else. Also, apparently the Rodpod's artificial gravity goes all the way around.
Nautica’s spent the last few weeks tricking out the Rodpod with a fancy schmancy new teleport drive, because Rodimus was annoying her to the point where if she didn’t give him what he was moaning about she might have had to kill him. Megatron is hesitant to use the drive, but after being informed that there are safety perimeters in place that’ll keep the ol’ Rodimus Podimus from teleporting inside a asteroid or whatever, he pulls the level and they end up in the dark.
No, not space dark, don’t be funny. That’s my job, and they don’t pay me for it, which should tell you how dire the situation is. This is a special sort of dark. The sort of dark that leads to panic and lethal levels of quipping. Rodimus cuts the lights on, but it does very little to offset the absolutely suffocating darkness outside. Rewind notes that there aren’t any stars, and Tailgate admits that he doesn’t know how space works. That’s alright Tailgate, neither do any of the people who draw or color this comic. You’re amongst (created by?) friends here.
The scanners reveal that there’s something 3000 miles in front of them. And behind them. And to the left, to the right, 12 o'clock, three o'clock, six o'clock, nine o'clock, rock around the clock tonight— that is to say, they’re surrounded by something the size of a planet. After disabling the safety protocols on the Rodimus Podimus, the gang find themselves on the surface of Necroworld, where the Necrobot Censere lives and operates his many plinths to the living and dead. Megatron isn’t exactly thrilled to be back here. Nightbeat on the other hand, is overdose on mystery, and he couldn’t be happier. Nobody’s sure what the fuck is going on. There’s no time to theorize, however, as half the gang just got blown sky high.
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Everyone books it back to the Rodpod to escape the dozen attack craft coming after them, but there’s more trouble here— the teleport drive is dead. Which is weird, because they should have had enough juice to get to and from their little trip. When Rodimus tries to contact the Lost Light, there’s no response. They’re not responding. Megatron tells him that those are two different things, mirroring the same thing Optimus said about trying to contact the Lost Light after he and Jetfire viewed the will tapes. Everyone else is busy trying to figure out who the hell could be firing on them, all of them roughly coming to the same conclusion that Cybertronians as a whole aren’t terribly well liked, and the Lost Lighters have made a bit of a name (derogatory) for themselves, since they insulted the Galactic Council, caused the end of the 16-million year Stentarian war, and have ruined at least one bar with physical violence over home movies.
Rodimus tells Megatron to park the Rodpod at the Necrobot’s citadel, just in time for a missile to hit the ass-end of the shuttle, blowing off Magnus’s arm, shredding off roughly half of Nautica’s face, and giving Cyclonus an excuse to hold Tailgate in his arms. Everyone bolts to get inside, Nautica being carried by Skids so we can further solidify the straightest pairing in the series. Once they’re all inside, their attackers retreat, and we see where Censere’s gotten to in all this.
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Let’s give him a hand, folks!
While Velocity looks over the body, Nightbeat deals with his personal Santa Claus being dead by way of trying to figure out what happened. Megatron, meanwhile, noticed that the craft that attacked them were of Decepticon design, and he tells Ravage to go check it out. Honestly, I doubt he was the only one to notice, given that all but three of the people on this trip were dealing with the Decepticons in some form or fashion all throughout the war, and could therefore identify the make of the crafts, if not the model, so I’m not sure what the deal is with this secrecy.
Brainstorm is brought over to Nightbeat to help solve this mystery, and he promptly identifies that some of Censere’s equipment is very similar to the stuff Tyrest used for the Aequitas trials, likely used to figure out what sparkflowers to plant where. Rewind, having popped on his sparkliest nipple pasties on, because he hates Censere and wants to get glitter all over his house, asks the boys to scootch on over so he can try to call the Lost Light. Nightbeat thinks that Censere tried to sabotage a signal someone else had sent in an attempt to lure Team Rodimus (and friends) to the planet, and that resulted in the brain attack that had happened earlier in the day. Unfortunately, Censere didn’t spend any time with Rodimus the last time the Lost Light visited, so he didn’t get a taste of the ridiculous way Rodimus likes to live his life, and why the psychic attack wouldn’t work.
Rewind gets the phone working, calling Rodimus over to get on the horn. Magnus stands in the background, showing off his grievous amputation. After a bit of fiddling with the settings on their end, the Lost Light makes official contact with Team Rodimus.
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Getaway, last we saw him, was very much in prison, but Rodimus isn’t going to focus on that niggling little detail right now, as he asks for the Lost Light to swing by to pick up the team so they don’t all die. Getaway sort of DOES want to focus on that detail, however, as he very much didn’t appreciate being fetish fuel throughout the holiday season, and, despite his name, didn’t actually escape that setup. No, Getaway had help.
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Man, guess Megatron should’ve reconsidered failing Riptide on his essay.
Speaking of Megatron, he walks up about now to see what all the hubbub’s about. Rodimus, looking like he’s about to cry, realizes that Mainframe lied to them about not being able to track the signal. Getaway gives him points for getting that right, but really, he wants to drive home the point that the entirety of the crew wanted Megatron’s little pals off the ship. And that’s what it’s really about, at the end of the day. Getaway hates that high command gave Megatron a party cruise to live out his last days on, last days that might not even happen, with the track record of this goddamned quest. He’s sick of Rodimus and pals acting like this whole arrangement isn’t an affront to every single life that’s been snuffed out because of Megatron’s actions.
Everyone other than Whirl seems pretty bummed out by these accusations. Swerve pipes up, enraged that he’s been doomed to die alongside everyone else— he doesn’t even LIKE Megatron. Getaway reveals that at some point or another, he and Atomizer (the interior designer turned bowman, you’ll recall) approached every single crew member and asked if they thought Megatron deserved to have a second chance and also, completely unrelated, but what would you do in the event of a coup? Anyone who didn’t provide a desirable answer got visited by the nudge gun fairy— that gun that can fire thought into your brain, or just erase memories if fired dry. The collection of headaches main cast have been experiencing over the last several issues? The side effect of being shot. Skids especially does not like this reveal.
Of course, Getaway isn’t just upset with Megatron’s leadership— he’s also mad as hell what’s supposed to be a trip to find their ancestors, who will guide them back onto the straight and narrow, has, in actuality, been Rodimus’s midlife crisis road trip. Getaway wasn’t even here for Rodimus and Drift’s ass-slapping contests and insulting galactic officials who want the Cybertronians dead, but he didn’t need to be. He took one look at the Rodpod and decided he needed to kill Rodimus right then and there.
Rodimus, at this point, remembers the list Atomizer had offered him back during the trial. Magnus, biting his lip at the idea of a list existing, asks what that’s all about, and Rodimus explains. Getaway really was hoping that Rodimus would take the bait, so he could’ve blackmailed Rodimus into stepping down and letting literally anyone else take over. Probably Magnus, at that point in the timeline, given that he hadn’t gotten buddy-buddy with Megatron yet at that point. Unless Getaway considers acting as someone’s lawyer under order of the space pope as being too close to an individual.
Getaway decides that this conversation has reached its natural conclusion, as he’s got questing to get done, and it should be moving at a pretty even clip now, since he’s excised all the distractions. Rodimus swears to come after him, but Getaway doubts it’ll happen, given what’s happening next.
While this debacle has been happening, Ravage has been busy searching a crash site, trying to uncover the identity of who the hell’s decided to attack them. Tarn commits a microagression at him, before firing his twin fusion cannons.
The call ends, Getaway cutting off the comm to all contact.
Ravage shows back up at this point, to give everyone the bad news.
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Nightbeat, honey, the tragedy is in the opposite direction.
Now, that’s technically the finale of the main story, but there’s a little bonus comic attached to the end, acting as a sort of sideways epilogue to hint at what Getaway and his merry band of mutineers will be getting up to, since we aren’t seeing them again for a bit.
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Our little backup strip begins right before the original launch of the Lost Light, where we see some guys we haven’t seen the 2012 Annual issue. Shock and Ore wander around what will one day become Swerve’s, Shock convinced that this ship is actually the ship they lost 5 million years prior, the Unitrex-1. Ore isn’t so sure, but as the readers, we saw the exact moment that Unitrex-1 disappeared in issue #38, after Rodimus forgot to wash his hands while putting the quantum engine together. Shock, wanting to prove that he’s right, fumbles around in the dark, looking for the graffiti he carved into the underside of a table. Ore gets a call on his space Blackberry while he’s doing this, and we finally get the other half of that call Prowl made in issue #1, after he failed to get Chromedome to stay on Cybertron. The Duobots have 20 minutes to get Overlord’s massive, lippy ass on the ship. Knowing that that isn’t a ton of time, the two quickly book it out of the bar, leaving the spectral form of Skids to look really bummed out.
Later, at Swerve’s grand (secret) opening, we see some more old faces.
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Whoa now, Drift, you’re not supposed to be back until next issue!
Pipes thinks he’s been cursed to not have friends, since Hubcap is still at his dead-end job with the Wreckers, and Riptide was too busy being in a coma to come say goodbye. How rude!
Drift doesn’t seem to particularly want Pipes around more than necessary, pushing him to be friends with Rewind, who he describes as having kind eyes. Whether Drift is doing this to keep Pipes safe from overhearing any Overlord-related secrets, keeping his ass-slapping and sexually-tense sword training time with Rodimus safe, or just because he finds Pipes to be mildly annoying isn’t clear. Pipes, however, is looking for more than friendship— he’s looking to bone down.
Pipes’s ideal partner is wide as they are tall, with tits to match and at least one alt-mode that he can use as a yacht. Drift tells him he can introduce him to Tailgate, though something tells me Pipes isn’t really Tailgate’s type, given that he can actually say what he means and doesn’t have some fucked-up facial situation.
It’s really too bad that Pipes died, because I bet he would have loved Nautica, and he would have REALLY loved Nickel.
Later still, we see all of our doctors together— even Ambulon is there! In one piece, even! Ambulon wants to tell First Aid something, and First Aid automatically tries to make it a cosmetic thing, because of COURSE Ambulon would be insecure about his bad skin, and what he really needs is a better cleanser. What Ambulon actually wants to talk about, though, is his alt mode, and the fact that the puns involved with being part of a Combiner make him want to die. First Aid understands, but Swerve, known menace to society, might not be so compassionate, as he throws a grenade into the back of Ambulon’s head, triggering his transformation. Ambulon is mortified, and Swerve does the thing that Ambulon literally just said he hates. First Aid continues to rip flakes of paint off of Ambulon, as the specter of Velocity watches, looking pretty bummed about the fact that she never got to be part of banter like this.
Later on than that, Rewind and a wheelchair-bound Rung are in the currently-empty Swerve’s, as Rewind calls Chromedome to gather up one of the groups for those storytelling circles Rewind organized to try to fix Rung’s brain. He hangs up, then tells Rung that once his brain works again, they’re going to have a goddamned chat about Dominus Ambus, which is only mildly hampered in its threat by the fact that Rewind standing is barely the same height as Rung sitting down.
Rewind then gets to work writing out the story map for when the “Shadowplay” group gets there, as the specter of Chromedome reaches out longingly for the dead version of his husband. He laments that this Rewind died without closure, but the ghostly specter of Rung reminds him that there are rules to this, and they have to leave now. Not sure why Rung’s here to watch himself be threatened by Pipsqueak McGee. Is he actually doing his job for once, helping guide someone through their grief? I doubt it, since Chromedome isn’t a hottie bo-body like Skids, and his problems haven’t (directly, at least) caused the sort of trouble that make entire star systems hate you like Megatron.
Later, during the Overlord disaster, Perceptor sprints into Swerve’s, shouting for a medic, as the rest of the battered and beaten watch. Hoist, himself hooked up to the wall by some sort of cable, while wearing his extra-special Rodimus Star, offers to help, though he’s technically an engineer, and whatever he’s gonna do probably won’t have any consideration for the soul or ability to feel pain. Perceptor was using Tripodeca— sweet, beloved, friend to all, who was the star of the post-Overlord mass funeral Tripodeca— as a, uh, tripod for his rifle, when Overlord probably noticed that the ol’ science sniper looked sort of familiar and did a lil’ grabbing with his big nasty hands. Hoist asks if Perceptor is going to stop Overlord, and considering how things went the last time Overlord was the star of the show, I doubt Perceptor thought he was gonna get lucky twice in terms of survival, especially when Overlord is riGHT BEHIND HIM OH GOD LORDY JESUS MARY AND JOSEPH
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How Perceptor survived this isn't clear, but we know he did, as he continued to show up in the story past issue #15 in a decidedly alive, non-paste form. His specter watches this scene unfold, expression unreadable.
Post-Luna 1, Swerve stands in his ruined bar dejectedly, when he realizes that quite a few people have shown up to help him clean up the mess, as long as he promises to reward their hard work with reopening once it’s done. As everyone works to get things back in order, Swerve tells them to keep an eye out for a non-trashed Legislator that he could use as a bouncer, once he fucks around with its head enough to make it do what he wants. Ten’s specter watches as his shitty boss and arguable father is gifted the body that would become him, making a note to get his union going with a bit more urgency.
Later, on the day of the “Fuck Off Megatron 2-for-1 Drink Deal”, Crosscut lead Riptide, Mirage, and Nautica on a tour of the ship. Mirage notes that Swerve’s is a bit of a dive, not suited to his refined tastes in the slightest. In a booth, Getaway and Atomizer have boxed Mainframe in on either side to have a little chat. Swerve and Bluestreak talk television, Bluestreak making a little jab at MTMTE’s second season not being quite as well-received by fans as the first. Over at the bar, Highbrow and Perceptor talk about Quark, while Brainstorm watches while having his briefcase, which he is NOT supposed to have in here.
Crosscut goes on about this bar being where all things happen and where bittersweet is the most often-felt emotion, then calls Trailcutter/blazer an alcoholic as he dances on the ceiling. The specters of just about everyone on the ship watch their fallen friend, enjoying the moment and missing him terribly, as Perceptor brings them back to the here and now of the story, which turns out to be just after the holiday special, judging by the Christmas lights.
Minimus asks if this is safe, and Perceptor says that it is, as nobody can actually interact with the past, because Brainstorm is the only one who’s ever actually perfected that tech, not that this isn’t his fault either. It turns out that when you try to fly against the stream of time as it naturally occurs, you tear a few thousand itty bitty holes on the way to perfecting the process. Perceptor’s found a way to let others view the past, at least for a little while. Minimus is fine with it, as long as everyone continues to behave, and it seems like they are, as everyone mingles in Swerve’s.
The two of them sit down, Megatron handing Minimus what I’m sure is a mocktail, and Perceptor explains that while the window into the past is closing for now, it may open back up in the future. When Rodimus asks when that might be, he then immediately decides that he doesn’t want to know, instead wanting to have a fun little surprise for later. They don’t get very many of those, fun surprises.
As everyone toasts to the dead and to future adventures, the specter of Getaway watches on, smug as hell.
That’s the end of “No Guns, No Swords, No Briefcases” but that is STILL not the end of the issue! It never ends, this thing! Because the number 50 is very big and impressive, obviously this is a double-sized spectacular, and has to cap off with a note from the man himself— James Roberts.
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And then after that we get a new notes from fans, but this is already obscenely long and I think I can show you the crux of what they’re all saying right here: MTMTE (2012) is fucking good. It’s a good series. Make your goddamn family, friends, coworkers, librarians, and goldfish read it. Share it with people you’ve never met. Get a long-term personal project out of it. Get long-term friends out of it. Get a long-term romantic partner out of it. If I can do it, so can you!
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yandere-daydreams · 2 years
Text
Title: Unconditional Daydreams.
Pairing: Yandere!Incubus!Kaeya x F. Reader [+Diluc] (Genshin)
Word Count: 1.6k.
TW: Modern AU, Non/Con, Oral Sex, Distorted Reality, Implied Memory Tampering, and Slight Marking.
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“Are you absolutely sure you should be working tonight?”
You glared in Diluc’s direction, to where he was standing behind the bar counter, idly cleaning pint glasses while you wiped off tables on the main floor. You knew he meant well - that as the owner, it was his responsibility to make sure his bartenders wouldn’t pass out while serving customers – but you were getting tired of the questions, of the unwanted comments on the bags under your eyes and the lack of color in your face. You looked like shit. You knew. But, you couldn’t afford to miss another shift just because you looked like a walking corpse, even if you were starting to feel like one, too.
“It’s fine,” You muttered, and then again, with more force, more reassuringly. “I’m fine. I’ve just been having weird dreams, lately. It’s been keeping me up.”
Diluc hummed, his usual scowl twitching up into a slightly softer, slightly less hostile frown. His tone was steady, dulled, but honestly, you were just surprised that he was bothering to indulge you at all. “Are you going to share with the class, or will I just have to let my curiosity eat me alive?”
You started to shake your head, to brush him off, but stopped yourself, laughing airily. You still had an hour before you opened for the night, and if telling him about your stupid, inane dreams would help to pass the time, you didn’t really have an excuse not to.
Still, you hesitated to start, letting your head lull to the side and your rag slip out of your hand. At least talking would help stave off the exhaustion. “It always starts with this guy, I think his name is— Kaeya— Kaeya—”
His name caught in your throat, and your hands shot downward, your fingers soon tangled in his hair as you made a half-hearted attempt to pull him away. He didn’t budge, obviously, only letting out a rough groan as he lapped over your entrance, tracing aimless patterns into your slit with his tongue before drifting, lapping over your clit until he drew out a sharp, cracked whine, audible evidence of your over-sensitivity. Even then, he only drew back far enough to latch onto the inside of your thigh, sucking harsh bruises into vulnerable skin while you pouted, carding your fingers through his hair. “Go on,” He encouraged, after giving you a moment to catch your breath. “You were telling me about the nightmares you've been having, right?”
You huffed, collapsing into the cushions of your loveseat. He hadn’t wasted any time today, forgoing his usual flirting and pet-names in favor of pushing you onto the nearest sofa and pulling your skirt up to your waist, burying his face in your cunt before he could so much as pretend he’d come over for anything else. You didn’t really mind. That was how it always ended up when the two of you saw each other – with Kaeya on his knees and you, too delirious to do anything but call out his name. “They’re not really nightmares,” You mumbled, your voice nearly too quiet to be audible. Kaeya made a throaty, reverberating sound of acknowledgment, and you went on, watching blearily as he peppered love-bites along your thighs. “Most of them are pretty normal, and you’re always there. I think I know you, most of the time, but it’s always a little blurry, and I can’t really tell if you’re supposed to be my neighbor, or my husband, or just a stranger I don’t—”
“Oh, so it is a nightmare,” He cut in, warm breath fanning over the back of your neck. His arms snaked around your waist, dragging you against his chest, and you laughed, playfully jabbing your elbow into his stomach. He’d cornered you in the kitchen, demanding his hourly dose of attention while you were trying to get something out of one of the higher cabinets. You could still hear the movie you’d been watching playing in the other room, and he could’ve just waited until you got back, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mind. You… well, you just couldn’t, with Kaeya. “I mean, a world where your handsome, charming, doting, handsome boyfriend is little more than a stranger to you? That sounds like a nightmare to me.”
“A few hours without your awe-inspiring modesty? I’m not sure how I managed to survive.” You felt his lips brush against the edge of your jaw, then the column of your throat, nipping gently when he reached your jugular. “It really isn't that bad. We’re usually just hanging out, or I’m meeting you for the first time, and we’re…”
You trailed off, but he didn't seem bothered, his grin pressing into the crook of your neck. He was grinding against your ass, now, because of course he was, the insatiable bastard. “We’re what, sweetheart?”
You rolled your eyes, scoffing. “We’re fucking, sometimes. That’s not the important part. It’s what comes next. After a while, everything just starts to—"
A hand slipped under your shirt, and you felt your smile waver, something in the back of your mind clicking out of place – like a bone pulled out of its socket, some electrical circuit disconnected from its system. You’d done this before, but you hadn’t. He was Kaeya, but…
But, you didn’t know a Kaeya, did you?
Silk sheets pressed into your back, cool and mild compared to the pure warmth radiating above you. There was something tangled around your arms – braided rope, soft to the touch but strong enough to keep your arms pinned above your head as he thrust into you, fucking into your cunt with no sense of concern or restraint. Your nerves felt like they were on fire, everything a little too hot, a little too intense, a little too hazy when you made any attempt to focus, to do anything but lie back and feel what was happening to you.
In an effort to block it out, to make the heat washing over you just a little more bearable, you tried to shut your eyes, to bite into the side of your tongue, but a hand rose up to cup your cheek, to work a thumb into the corner of your lips and pry your teeth apart, until your mouth hung open and you were stripped of any way to swallow back your little, whimpered moans. It didn’t hurt, but it was sadistic. You couldn’t feel much of anything, but all of it was agonizing, inhumane.
You’d never been here before, but it was all so, so familiar.
You could see him, above you, his smile broad and relaxed, one of his eyes visible and the other hidden behind a mess of dark hair. His movement slowed, but didn’t still, growing just lax enough to allow him to laugh, to lean down until his chest pressed into yours and his hair formed a curtain around you – caging you against him, refusing to let the rest of the world in. He was still holding your mouth open, but if he was deterred by your objection, your panic, it wasn’t enough to keep him away from you, to stop his lips from crashing into yours. You tried to pull away, and when that failed, to bite down, but you couldn’t move, and your mind went blank, and—
You woke up with a start, clawing at the bar’s tile floor as you bolted upward. You were on the ground, breathing heavily, and Diluc was at your side, a hand raised like he’d been moving to touch you. The renewed exhaustion hit you first, like something very heavy and very blunt to the back of your head, then the soreness, the aching in your limbs and the throbbing behind your eyes, tired muscles taunted with a moment of rest. Still, you did what you could to brush it off, to smile apologetically as you rubbed the back of your neck. “I’m… I’m sorry about that, it’s never happened before. How long was I out?”
“About thirty seconds.” Dry, flat, with only a hint of concern lacing his tone. He looked shaken, if anything, his eyes a little too wide, his own breathing as heavy as yours, and a tight knot of guilt formed in the back of your throat, only growing more difficult to swallow down as he went on, clearly taking pains to maintain his composure. “Get your things. I’m taking you home.”
“No, it’s alright, I’m—” You tried to get up, but your knees gave out as soon as you tried to put your weight on them, leaving you to stumble forward and brace yourself on a nearby table. He followed you, pushing himself to his feet, moving to take your arm before you brushed him off. “I promise, I’m fine, I just need to—”
“You need to get some rest. I’m not letting you drive, either, not like this.” You opened your mouth, squaring your shoulders, but stopped yourself, bit the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to nod. You took a tentative step, moving towards the breakroom, but Diluc stopped you, a hand landing on your shoulder. “By the way,” He started, his voice low, razor-edged. “Do you know anyone named Kaeya?”
You thought for a moment, then shook your head. “I don’t think so. I mean... should I?”
He seemed to hesitate, but ultimately let you go. “Just get your things. I’ll be waiting here.”
You didn’t try to argue at all, this time. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want to stay here, to push yourself any farther.
Honestly, you just wanted to sleep.
~
Diluc waited until you’d left the main floor, until he couldn’t hear your footsteps or see you moving behind the door’s circular glass plane. Once you were out of earshot, he let out an airy sigh, fishing his phone out of his pocket and dialing a familiar number, a number he swore he’d never have to call again.
“Kaeya?” He said, as soon as the ringing stopped. And then, without waiting for an answer, “We have to talk.”
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dellalyra · 11 months
Text
FAMILY FORMATIONS - PART FOURTEEN
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Summary: Shibuya.
CW: angst, violence, lots of it, anger, angst, blood, violence - Shibuya. Need I say more.
A/N: So this is nearly more of an experiment in writing for me so forgive how shit it is. This is gonna be the last plot-centric part for a while then we’re going back to what Family Formations does best - tooth-rotting domestic fluff <3
Recommended Listening:
Me & The Devil - Soap&Skin
Fear and Loathing - Marina
Murder in My Mind - Kordhell
GOODMORNINGTOKYO - TOKYO’S REVENGE
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Scrambling – sprinting – running as fast as you can, your lungs are raw from screaming and fighting for hours now. The smell of smoke is putrid as everything collapses around you.
You felt it - Satoru’s gone.
He’s captured, you’re alone.
You had heard names whispered around.
You needed to find someone – anyone, you needed to find someone alive, the hordes of transformed people had been pushed to you by Mei Mei – your claws and fangs show no signs of retracting now they’re all dead. There’s too much adrenaline coursing through your body for you to slow down or properly comprehend anything that happened – or even feel the slash bleeding down your back. You can’t concentrate long enough to transform with your technique into something faster or with better vision.
The shouts of your husband’s defeat and imprisonment resonated through your skull and just wouldn’t quiet down. Hope felt like it was slipping through the cracks caused by Sukuna’s rampage in the pavement. You had the blood of several hundred on your body – your feral technique and anger and grief over the loss of your husband and fear for your loved ones transformed into sheer rage as you slashed and twisted and tore your way through the curses littering the station which were blocking civilians exit. You knew you’d saved thousands of lives single-handedly that night.
But you’d lost.
Noritoshi Kamo and Miwa had somehow ended up with you through everything, and you followed a signal from the airborne Momo and simultaneously you and Kamo notched arrows with a view of Mai and a sniper rifle in the distance.
Just as you turned to loose your arrow.
You saw him.
A walking ghost.
The bow and arrow dropped as Kamo loosed his arrow and Mai made her shot.
But no sound of weapon art would drown out the ragged scream your body released.
Frozen in place you watched events unfold like you were in a dream. So this was how they got Satoru.
You walked forward into the clearing. You suddenly felt 17 again.
“Oniisan?”
The body turned to you.
He moved like him. He looked like him. He spoke like him.
But it wasn’t him.
“Ah! Welcome to the fray, it’s been a long time hasn’t it, little Dryad? What was it I called you? Oneesan?” The body asked.
“It wasn’t you who called me that. It’s was Suguru Geto. You – you are someone else. You have taken and defiled my best friends corpse and imprisoned my husband. I will kill you, you sick fuck!”
“You certainly have the spirit and temper of the women of your family. Your great great grandmother was very similar.” He easily deflected your arrow before sidestepping the vines grasping for his ankles.
That gives you pause – great great grandmother?
But before you could move another muscle, the man is turning away and you’re being dragged away by Utahime as you thrash against her.
“Greetings, Choso.”
A tall, broad man clad in purple has entered the clearing. Who is this?
“Ah, it appears you have noticed.” Pseudo-Geto says to the newcomer.
The rage coming from this Choso rivals your own – but it’s directed at your apparent common enemy.
“NORITOSHI KAMO!” He screams and simultaneously all (modern) heads whip to look in shock at the 17 year old Kamo heir, seeing the surprise on his own face.
You stop thrashing away from Utahime’s grasp and stare at her.
“Utahime if that’s Kamo – then…” you say.
“The thing inside Geto is over 150 years old!”
You’d read many accounts of the blight on the Kamo Clan, the most nefarious sorcerer to exist.
“How dare you try to make me kill my little brother Yuuji Itadori?!” This Choso screams.
Wait, what?
And before you know it Choso is fighting tooth and nail for Yuuji and you’re sure of your theory – he is also a Kamo, but he must be one of the death painting wombs that Noritoshi Kamo created. Noritoshi is his father, but how is Yuuji related? He’s not a Kamo. But, if… no, that’s crazy. If Noritoshi had been surviving by moving body to body, then maybe - it’s true. A death painting womb has blood connections to its siblings, so Choso would know. You’re grateful you paid attention in cursed object theory in high school.
And speak of the devil, beside you, beside Panda – is Yuuji. You scream his name and he looks to you and you almost cry in relief he’s alive. He’s badly injured and there’s something hollow in his eyes. Yet, now is no time for reunions.
Panda moves to attack but before any of you can make a move to retrieve the prison realm holding your husband and father of you children, a wave of ice encases your allies. Your body had protected itself subconsciously by wrapping yourself in your sunbeam technique – making you too hot for ice to approach.
Opening your eyes, only yourself Yuuji, Momo, and Choso were not frozen.
“You could try calling me big brother once you know?” You hear Choso say as you approach the duo.
“Take this seriously!” Yuuji replies.
“Yuuji! I think he might be right! I’ll explain later – we have to get Satoru!” You unfurl the tendrils of ivy from your hair and begin to focus.
But once again – you don’t get a chance.
Because in front of you stands your saving Grace – the woman you idolised since childhood.
“It’s been a while, Geto, can I get your answer from before? What kind of girls are you into?”
Yuki Tsukomo – one of the four other special grade sorcerers apart from yourself.
You ran to Yuuji, checking him for damage.
“Y/N. I’m –” he starts to say before you hush him and press a kiss to the top of your head, shaking your head because you can’t handle him apologising now - you’re too raw.
Yuki was stalling Geto. You didn’t know why, but you trusted her.
A rumble hit the ground and you finally tuned into the conversation despite your ringing ears.
“I’ve marked people as vessels, non sorcerers given abilities. Many have been in a deep slumber since I chose them, but as of this moment - they’ve awoken.”
Deep slumber? Cursed? Oh god. Please, not her too.
“Are you listening Sukuna? The Heian age has returned!” Geto shouts, gleeful and proud as hundreds of cursed spirits emerge from him, spirits Geto has absorbed through the years.
He reaches his arm into his sleeve, and produces a box. A cube. Covered in eyes, big, shining blue eyes held by your son Akio – inherited by
“Satoru!”
“Gojo-sensei!”
And with that he is gone.
Your first instinct now that he’s gone – your son. Where is Megumi? You sprint around, shaking shoulders of everyone you know – desperate to locate your son.
Utahime approaches you.
“Iori! Have you seen Megumi? I have to find him. Satoru – he –” she pulls you into her chest, still smelling like the perfume you bought her for Christmas.
“Y/N. Listen to me. I don’t know where he is, but you have to listen.” The panicked look in your eyes made you looked crazed. She hadn’t seen this side of you since the Star Plasma Vessel incident.
“Y/N. Satoru has been named an enemy of the jujutsu society and a law has been made that he must stay sealed. Y/N, you’re counted in that. The elders want you dead, they say you and Gojo were conspiring with Geto. Yaga has been arrested, he’s been sentenced to death – for inciting the violence. The stay on Itadori’s execution has been lifted - he’s to be executed on sight, Yuuta Okkutsu has been named his executioner.” She steadies you, keeping you upright.
Your face changes from fear to anger.
“Y/N, we will get Gojo out. For now, you need to find Megumi, and get Yuuji and get out of Shibuya. Get Akio away, hide him. Okay? We’ll get him out Y/N.” She says.
You pull her into your chest.
“Thank you, Utahime. I love you.” You say. Your face has turned to stone. The warrior in you has returned and you’re currently planning your next move. You turn away, whipping out your phone. The veil is down and you can call your mother.
“Momma listen, I’m okay. You need to listen to me. I don’t have long. Satoru has been captured, by Noritoshi Kamo - he’s in the Prison Realm (your mom screams), him and I have been named traitors because Kamo is in the body of Suguru Geto. Mom, please, just let me talk – I don’t have – momma! They want to kill the kid, sukuna’s vessel, I need to find Megumi. Tsumiki, I think she’s part of Kamo’s plan. Yaga is to be executed – our allies are hurt or dead. I don’t know where most people are. I think most are dead. You need to get Akio out of the country. Take him - don’t tell me where. It’s not safe for me to know. Keep him hidden, and keep him safe. In my jewellery box is a baby bracelet – put it on him and he and you will be untraceable. Whatever you need – talk to Gojo’s uncle, he’s at the estate. I love you, I love Akio – please let me talk to him.”
The phone is passed to your toddler son.
“Hi baby boy,” you are trying so hard not to cry, you have to hold it together.
“Mama! Hi mama! Nana momma and papa working!”
“Yeah baby, momma and papa are working – you go with nana okay? Going on an adventure. Akio, I love you so much, my beautiful little boy - you’re our angel and papa loves you so very much too. I have to go help Megumi okay? I love you baby, be good for nana.” You let out a sob, resolve cracking.
“Momma – I gotta go. I’m going to fix this. I’m going to keep everyone safe.” And with that you hung up.
You take a deep breath and grip your arm, the vines tattooed with Satoru, Megumi, Tsumiki and Akio lacing in elegant letters through the leaves reminding you why you’re still standing.
You stand for them.
You shake your head, focus, Y/N. Save your babies.
Yuuji. You have to find him. He’ll know where Megumi is. Wait, where’s Nobara? Toge? Maki?
You walk into the direction you saw Yuuji leave, and you see a pink shock of hair beside a head adorned with two spiky buns.
Yuuji – and Choso.
They’re sitting on the steps.
You sprint to him.
“Yuuji! Where is he? Where’s Megumi? Are you hurt? Are you okay?”
His jaw is tense.
“He – he used Mahoraga, Y/N. I –” you collapse on the ground. That was suicide.
“No! He’s alive! I promise, but Sukuna – he saved him. He’s plotting something with Fushiguro. He’s badly injured, but alive.” You fling your arms around him and feel Yuuji wilt in your arms.
“Y/N. Nobara – she, I don’t know if she’s alive. Sukuna, me, he killed so many people, it’s all my fault. But I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry I couldn’t – Nanamin, he’s, he’s dead.” He croaks into your neck, his mentor killed in front of him and he’s apologising to you.
Hearing Akio’s godfather was dead, best man at your wedding, star of every Thursdays Kooking With Kento at your home as you made dinner together. You felt a fresh wave of sobs and you let them escape. Later, you’d mourn later.
“You did everything you could, Yuuji, it’s okay. You brave, brave boy. You’re not at fault. You’re so strong.” He pulled himself from your grip and wiped his eyes.
You saw Choso, from the corner of your eye. He stood, sheepishly and curiously watching the exchange.
“I need to find Megumi – but Yuuji, you need to come with me. The execution order has been brought up and I’m a wanted woman. We need to get away from here.” You look at him.
The sound of footsteps crushing the debris echoes through the empty street.
“Well well well, it must be my lucky day. The traitorous harlot and Sukuna’s rampaging vessel served to me on a platter. What honour the head of the Zen’in clan will bring to society by killing you both.”
That voice. That grating fucking voice.
How many days had you spent since childhood fighting with the owner of that fucking voice.
“Naoya Zen’in. You lecherous cunt. Here to revel in the death and misery like the reaper you are?”
You spit out at him, pushing Yuuji behind you.
“See – bitch. This is why I never liked you. God, you’re beautiful – such a goddess among women and you’ve already proven yourself fertile with the Gojo brat but your issue is your mouth. Such a shame, a waste of a perfect breeding bitch if you ask me: perfect body, pretty face, esteemed lineage, powerful technique but you just can’t shut that whore mouth can you?” He leers, eyeing your body like meat.
Your snarl in response makes even Choso grimace.
“If you just learned to be a nice girl, sit still and just look pretty – then I’d have married you in an instant. You’d be a pleasure to knock some kids into, just all that temper and ego. Oh well, your protectors gone now, so you’re fair game to kill. I’m now head of the Zen’in family –”
“God Naoya, you really never got smarter did you? Even after all those years in school you’re still a dense bastard. You’re not the Zen’in Clan head, if Naobito is dead – which I’m guessing he is, good riddance I say, and Satoru Gojo is dead or in any way incapacitated – Megumi Fushiguro will be named head of the clan, as per the deal made with Toji.” You smirk, knowing you’ve the upper hand here.
He clicks his tongue. His displeasure is palpable.
“Such a smart mouth. Of course that’s the case, but, I’m going to kill Itadori and you, and then – it would hardly come to fruition if Megumi Fushiguro was dead now, would it?” He smirks.
And that was the flash lit to the powder keg.
“Oh Naoya, I’ve wanted to beat the ever living fuck out of you for so long – you sexist prick.” And with that, years of rage renewed by threats against you and your kids, and insults to your family kick you into 6th gear.
“Yuuji Itadori, I have been appointed your executioner and I am here to put you to death.” A familiar voice calls out from above.
Yuuta.
God, he’s grown. Several inches taller, his hairs shorter and he looks so healthy. He’s filled out, almost 19 now. Not a boy anymore, but a man.
A man, who is trying to kill the boy you’re shielding.
“Step aside, Gojo-San.” He calls as him jumps down from the bridge.
“Ah, you must be Okkotsu. I’m here for the Gojo whore - I’ll leave the vessel to you. I propose an alliance, given our common goals.”
The ringing in your ears returned, surely, Yuuta wouldn’t kill Yuuji? He’d promised Satoru.
He’d promised to protect him if anything happened.
Why would he do this? This wasn’t Yuuta.
Wait – no. It’s not Yuuta. Yuuta is honest, and true to his word. He is also smart and will one day surpass both you and Satoru in talent.
“I’m afraid, I must ask you again to step aside Gojo-San.”
Yuuta never called you that, he just called you Y/N.
“I made a promise to those I respect and trust. I must keep my promises.” Yuuta looks at you.
He doesn’t mean the elders.
He means you and Satoru.
He’s praying to anyone that you’ll understand.
“Yuuji Itadori must die.” Reversed Curse Technique.
You squeeze Yuuji’s hand.
“We can defeat them. Choso – stick with me. Yuuji, you’re with Okkotsu.” As you turn – you whisper ‘trust me’ into Yuuji’s ear. Choso and Yuuji together would hinder the plan, so you needed Choso to stick with you.
You needed to get Choso angry.
“Naoya, you’d forsake your brothers just for power?”
And with that, the thought of fratricidal tendencies – Choso was off. With Naoyo distracted by Choso, you nod at Yuuta – giving him your go ahead. You trusted this man with your life, and the lives of everyone around you. He wouldn’t fail you.
You turned to your personal mission.
“Naoya Zen’in! Too scared to fight me? Scared you’ll lose to a girl?” You shout at him, you didn’t need your bow for this – you tossed it to the side. Fangs and claws and vines weaving out of you. You wanted to do this up close and personal.
And with that you, Choso and Naoya were a flurry of blood red, forest green and shadows. There was no way either of you would match his speed – but that’s okay. It was two versus one and you quickly found out that you and choso fought incredibly well side by side.
Naoya’s continued taunts only fuel your fury. He wants to kill your son. He would kill Megumi just for a title. He had bullied and threatened the women of the sorcery world for so long that all of this was something you could not allow to continue.
Naoya Zen’in has to die.
Choso has him pinned, poisoned by his own blood. You grab your daggers, from where they are holstered on your thighs.
You stand above him.
“Choso – go to your brother.” You say.
And he does. Leaving you and a fatally injured Naoya laying on the ground.
“The women of the world will sing praises of your death, Zen’in and I will forever be proud that it was made you sent you to hell. Let this be a lesson. Don’t touch my fucking kids.”
And with that, you sent a dagger through his temple. A quick death. More than he deserved.
You move to where you sense the boys you’re with. Their energy is heavy.
Choso is standing beside Yuuji, a scene you expected. A fire lit, Yuuta sitting on one side, Yuuji laying – covered in blood but recovering on the other.
“Ballsy move, Yuuta.”
All heads turn to you, and Yuuta stands and you wrap him in a hug.
“I knew you’d understand. I couldn’t risk fighting you too – this was the only way. Thank you, Y/N.”
“No, Yuuta. Thank you. You kept your promise to Satoru and I’m eternally grateful.” You squish him into you. Why are all your kids so much taller than you?
Turning to the brothers.
“Thank you, Yuuji. For trusting me. I’m sorry that this had to happen. But Satoru had contingencies in place for an event such as this.” You say, Yuuji’s haunted eyes look up to you.
“I always trust you, and Gojo Sensei. Dying isn’t fun – but if it’ll keep everyone safe then I’ll do what I need to do.” You stand beside him.
“You’re as good as a son to me Yuuji. You’re safe as long as the Gojo’s are here. This guy too, apparently.” You say, nudging Choso.
“The man in the street?” He asks.
“Dead.” You reply.
“I am sorry for the part I played in your husband’s imprisonment.” He says, facing you.
“You protected Yuuji, and saved us both. We both share the commitment to fight for our families - we’re gonna be really good friends Choso Kamo.” And the death painting womb is exceptionally confused by the way you wrap your arms around his chest and squeeze, but he returns the ‘hug’ and feels a sense of peace.
As you pull away, you’re glad to be beside Choso and Yuuta – the days event seem to have caught up to you. You lose your footing and the world swirls around you. You’ve used so much cursed energy today.
Satoru - he’s gone. Who knows where.
Faced a ghost.
Sent your son off to a place that you can’t know.
Learned your adopted daughter is cursed and a tool in a war.
Had to let a boy you trust kill another boy you love.
Defended your son to the point of killing.
And lost a fuck lot of blood from the wound your adrenaline had helped you ignore.
“I’m okay – I just, Choso can you use your blood manipulation to stop the bleeding? Im guessing your reversed out, Yuuta?” The boys fuss over you and when you feel stable – you turn to Yuuji – a crying mess of a shell of a boy.
You scramble and pull him into you.
“I’m here, you’re safe. I’m so sorry Yuuji. For everything.” You croon.
“I killed so many people. I deserve the death penalty. Sukuna came out and it was a bloodbath.”
Yuuta sat down too.
“You aren’t to blame.” Yuuta says. Decidedly sure in his voice.
Just as the boy goes to respond, a voice sounds out.
“Itadori. What are you doing? Let’s head back to Jujutsu High.”
“Fushiguro.”
“MEGUMI!”
He hadn’t spotted you behind Choso’s imposing frame.
“Mom! I thought – I thought you were gone too. I thought - you’d go for him. Shit, I thought they had you too.” He stumbles into your arms and you collapse holding him.
“God I was so worried I’d lost you. I couldn’t find you anywhere.” You say.
“Megumi. You know don’t you?” You say, brushing his hair from his face.
“Tsumiki.” He says, face grave.
You’re distracted by counting the cuts on Megumi’s face, you vaguely hear talking.
“So start by saving me, Itadori.” Now you’re listening.
“Noritoshi Kamo has made plans for those involved with Jujutsu to face off in a Culling Game.” Megumi claims,
“And Tsumiki is ensnared in that. So I’m begging you, Itadori. I need your strength.”
Yuuji can never say no to Megumi. God you hope these two get their happy ending.
“Like hell am I letting you boys go in alone.”
“Mom – it’s not safe. Akio –” Megumi immediately rejects this.
“Akio is safe, don’t forget who you’re speaking to boys. I might be your mom – but I am also Y/N of the Y/L/N clan. I’m the first person to hold my technique in 600 years - I’m the head of my clan. A special grade sorcerer. Wife of the strongest sorcerer alive and mother of the head of the Zen’in clan. There is no woman more influential or strong as me alive. Today, I nearly lost most of my kids, all but one of my best friends are dead and the other is back from the grave, my husband was taken, my eldest son used a technique he knew would kill him and then sorcery’s biggest bully came to execute both of my sons – and I responded by stabbing a dagger through his skull. Do not underestimate me, boys.”
“Megumi – putting all of that aside. I have 3 children. One is hidden, and safe – the other two are being sent into a death match. I vowed to protect you all with my life. That is what I’m doing. You – are my son, and I am always by your side.” You clutch his burned cheek in your palm. Pressing a kiss to his temple. A part of you is nostalgic for the days you didn’t feel any stubble on those soft cheeks – just baby soft skin. He wanted to protect you now, but no matter how grown they get - you’re still their momma.
You stand up, holding his hand – and gesture to the boys to do the same.
“Where are we going, Y/N?” Yuuji asks.
“We’re going to get my fucking husband out of that box and end this shitshow, let’s go boys.”
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