#its called a nightmare is what its called

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you show your husband some affection, thinking you two were alone - only to be interrupted by your son.

tags. dad!toji fushiguro x wife!female reader. fluff, suggestive. mentions of toji developing / having a dad bod. & reader having a mom bod. reader gets called ‘princess, mama (by gumi)’. baby gumi waking up bcs of a nightmare. excuse me - not beta read bcs i was half asleep when writing this rt_t

“tooooji,” you smile as you enter the kitchen. you’ve put megumi to bed - finally - and have the chance to spend some one-on-one time with your dear husband. both of you deserve the rest after a hard day of work.

toji has been putting the dishes back in their designated spots whilst you were away. the dark-haired man turns his head to the side once he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist. a small grin tugs at his lips, “missed me, princess?”

you roll your eyes. even if years have passed since your marriage, toji has not stopped using that specific nickname for you. he loves calling you ‘princess’, because that’s what you’ll always be to him. in his eyes, at least.

“mhm,” you decide to indulge him. you bury your face into his broad back, feeling the muscles he’s worked so hard on obtaining. after megumi was born, toji did let himself go for a bit, but that is a good sign.

it means he’s content with his life - this peaceful life that he’s settled down for with no regrets. no more being reckless, no more battling for money; he’s now got a family to come back home to after all.

“is the little brat asleep?” toji asks while putting the last dish away. he’s visibly enjoying your warm hands that have slid under his shirt. your skin is so soft to the touch compared to his.

you chuckle and nod to his question. “gumi’s sleeping like a baby,” you rub your husband’s stomach gently, feeling the little bumps of his fading abs. you’re loving his new body - just as much as toji loves yours.

toji turns around to face you, desperately needing to return the favor. he can’t get enough of being with you. his rough hands grab your waist and bring you closer against his body, until your chests are nearly touching. he lowers his head to your neck, “that means i can show my wife how much i love her, yeah?”

you shiver at how toji’s voice turns from soft and gentle to sexual and husky. big hands find their place on your tummy, massaging the loose skin with its stretch marks. you can hear your husband’s breath hitch. “fuck,” toji swallows his spit, his fingers moving to grasp your hips.

toji loves how your hips got wider after you’ve given birth to your child. every change in your body, whether big or small, is completely welcomed by him. your body has blessed toji with a son he loves and he’ll forever be grateful for that fact. the least he can do is take his time to appreciate you.

“so beautiful,” toji sighs as he leaves soft pecks on your neck and throat. his fingers are working their way down to your thighs and ass—not leaving a single patch of skin untouched. his lips eventually find yours and you melt into his embrace.

it’s getting heated and the tension is palpable. toji’s about to lift you into his arms when you catch a glimpse of a short figure in the doorway. your eyes widen and you immediately detach your lips from your husband’s.

toji quickly catches on and sighs. he cocks his head to the left, the sight of his toddler standing at the doorway coming into view. “damn kid,” he whispers, nearly pouting because of the interruption. you playfully slap his bicep—a warning to fix his potty mouth in front of megumi.

“h-hey, gumi,” you say with an awkward giggle, walking towards the child. you fix your shirt in the meantime, straightening the material. you crouch down to megumi’s level and pat his head tenderly, “what happened? why are you out of bed?”

megumi stares up at you with teary eyes. he’s clenching onto his dog plushie, hugging the stuffed animal to his little body. you can easily guess that he’s scared—probably because of a nightmare. he’s been getting those more frequently.

though, instead of explaining himself, megumi searches for answers to something else. he points at his dad who’s leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. the toddler then looks back at you like he’s made some big discovery;

“mama papa kissing!”

you nearly choke on your spit. megumi’s a clever little boy and it shows through his advanced vocabulary. you’re surprised that he’s learnt what that meant already. you try to deny what your child said, “no, uhm, mama and papa were just hugging!”

toji snorts at your half assed excuse. he lazily walks over to you two, hands in his pockets. he bends forwards and looks megumi in the eyes with a huge smirk on his face. “yeah, we were. ‘n you totally ruined it,” he utters without any shame and menacingly sticks his tongue out at the little boy.

you hiss and lightly shove toji—he cannot take anything seriously. you’re trying your best to distract megumi’s attention from what he’s seen his parents do, to what his reason is for waking up.

“did you have a nightmare again?” you coo and pick your son up. he instantly snuggles up to you and presses his face against your chest in search of comfort. you smile and can conclude that your assumptions are right.

you pet megumi’s head whilst softly humming one of his favorite lullabies. toji watches your interaction with his son and his mood softens once more. he silently hugs you from behind—also wrapping an arm around megumi—turning it into a little family group hug.

“y’re all right, buddy,” toji mutters to megumi and the little boy sniffles in response, “mama ‘n papa ‘re right here.”

after a couple minutes, you carry megumi back to his room before putting him down in his bed. your husband stands next to you as you make sure your kid is tucked in properly.

megumi stares up at you with a sniff and you nearly melt at the adorable sight. you brush his bangs out of his eyes and kiss his forehead, wishing him a good night. the toddler nods and hugs his plushie to his chest again, still a bit shaken up from the nightmare. however, he’s doing a lot better after he got comforted by both his parents.

“sweet dreams, gumi,” you whisper and rub megumi’s cheeks with a fond smile on your lips. toji simply stares at you conversing with megumi—his face showing little to no emotion. though, from within, toji is absolutely in awe at your motherly personality. you’re the perfect mother.

megumi gets drowsy and tosses onto his side so he could be more comfortable. he struggles to open his eyes, but manages to look at toji. the little boy pouts and points another finger at his dad, this time drowsily warning him, “papa no kiss mama, ‘kay?”

that comment catches you off guard. you’re embarrassed by the fact that megumi still remembers what he’s seen in the kitchen. you try to clear your throat and explain yourself, but toji’s one step ahead of you. he silently mimics megumi’s words and rolls his eyes—

“yeah yeah, whatever. i won’t,” toji promises his son. the toddler clearly inherited your husband’s protectiveness. you chuckle at the playfulness between the two, enjoying the jokey banter the father-son duo have each time.

megumi huffs in victory and nods. he can sleep in peace now, knowing his dad won’t try anything funny with you. he closes his weary eyes and is asleep within just a few seconds.

you stretch your arms and sigh in content. you can’t help but chuckle once you notice how megumi’s fallen asleep with a tiny smile on his lips. you give the child one last forehead kiss before leaving the room in silence.

toji follows right behind you. now that his son is sound asleep, he doesn’t have to keep his promise. technically— he wasn’t planning to anyway.

“c’mere,” your husband mumbles and grabs your hand. he pulls you into a tight hug, hands instantly roaming your body which he admires so much. he plants his lips onto yours not a second later.

you smile into the kiss, finding it funny how toji couldn’t keep his (fake) promise for even one second. he would die if he actually couldn’t kiss you, and that isn’t even an exaggeration.

toji pulls back after a moment and smirks at you—those bedroom eyes of his very telling.

“so, where were we?”

#sttoru writes. #jjk x reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk x you #toji x you #jjk fluff #toji fluff #jjk x y/n #toji x y/n #star divider by benkeibear

[chosokamosbf]

ᑎIGᕼT ᒪIT ᗪEᔕIᖇE.

☆ 18+ only/no minors. | jason todd x gn! reader.

SUMMARY: a nsft fic waking up jason from a nightmare by bringing him to the edge

WARNINGs: 18+, (consensual) somnophilia, gn! reader, (jason receiving) oral, nightmares, minor mentions of blood and scarring.

WORD COUNT: 1600+

NOTEs: second person & no plot. ["babe/baby," and no pronouns used to refer to the insert/reader.]

Sprayed over silk sheets of a bed with more than enough space, in your all-consuming unconsciousness, your body managed to wedge itself in close to your boyfriend, where your head is settled right in the empty space of his shoulder. The weather hasn't been kind of as late, and so all fabrics other than the blankets pushed to the very edge of the mattress hours ago are short to combat the heat.

It hasn't helped much. The fan Jason had set up on your side to turn in place is losing the war as you're both covered in sweat. It isn't made any better by the fact he's been using that shoulder to cradle your head from underneath, the rest of the arm resting over your chest.

The deepening of this velvet night is broken to a steady close as he stirs hard enough to knock you out of that position.

You slowly blink the fog from your mind and rub the crust from your eyes with the one arm that isn't being partially buried under his weight.

The city pours in through even the smallest cracks between the curtains, enveloping their own designated areas in multicolored amalgamations of beams formed from sirens and electrified billboards nearby. It seeps over the sheets until it's reached the ceiling, leaving Jason's arms painted in its light, giving a full show of just how much they're twitching.

The other couple in the complex, whom you have gotten to know real well from their screaming matches (as muffled as they may be), seated only a few apartments away, have nothing on how loud his heaving is getting.

His face is turned away now, and you get up on your elbows to find pale lids pinched tightly together, brows in a deep, settled frown. It's not a far cry from what usually makes him intimidating under the helm, but there's a pout pulling at his lips all the while.

Recently, there's been no notable injuries, but his hands have found either one of his arms just to hold them steady and prod his fingers into anyway.

Sometimes your voice is enough alone to call him out of his head with how much he loves it. "Jason?"

He stays in place, and you sit up to speak his name into the night again while your fingertips trail down an arm.

This time around, a groan answers your inquiry.

His forehead is slick with a growing layer of sweat. The white tank top he was just teasing you about after catching wandering eyes earlier in the night is stuck to his broad chest, and barely is it settling with every pant. 

"Jason, you okay?"

It's always an uphill race with the few hours of rest he's allowed in between 'work.' Some days are better than others, and this clearly isn't one of them.

If plain intuition is serving you well, it's another nightmare.

Your teeth catch on your lower lip. "Baby?"

Rationality by damned, your voice stays weak as the thought of waking him up properly stays just that, a thought.

At worst, Jason's going to get moody if you interrupt his sleep, and he'll carry that over into the morning. Sure, he's trying to get better at communicating, but leaving behind the go-to of never doing just that has given way to taking hours to open up. Still, he doesn't seem like he's enjoying the dream.

There are a thousand or so possibilities as to what this one is exactly about, and you don't need to be a genius to know that he might head straight to the bathroom to get rid of the nasty pit in his stomach by the end of it. As much as you'll usually do your best to help out yesterday's dinner and hold his hair up if need be, there has to another option.

And there is.

Unconventional as it may be, you've talked about it before. When exactly is a fuzzy memory. At best, it stirred from another night of endless rambling, something to fill the silence when you both were left awake.

Most others he's all by himself when he gets back. It isn't the worst, as long as he isn't bleeding to death. Put away everything and make sure nothing gets on the carpet—a steady tradition. Sometimes, he's left with excess energy, though.

He mostly took the offer with little chance in his mind that he'd use it. The rules were set, and Jason made it clear that it was allowed on either side. Wasn't like he was going to make much use of it anyway.

And technically, he hasn't. Three times over a year or so ago, and each one was a gentle transition back into consciousness before he'd shown just how much he appreciated it: appreciated you.

Carefully, you get his nails to pull away from his skin and settle him on his back again. His shirt has etched up over the night, leaving his stomach and the happy trail growing across to the melt-worthy temps.

Trying hard not to wake him up, you press your head onto his chest, slowly rubbing down on his belly. 

Instantly, his breathing stutters.

Even in sleep, he's so gorgeous it hurts to even look at him, not in spite of the stubborn scowl still hanging on his mouth. Those thick eyelashes frame closed eyes. Instead of them blinking awake, his head rolls back over to the side, and the long-since healed gash sprayed over his neck gets stretched into the light peering into your two's home before he's yawning.

And you exhale softly. It feels as if you're breathing in nothing. You swallow hard—once, then twice—and inch your hand past the waistband of his boxers.

He's warm in your palm, and then his breath hitches while you freeze in place.

But Jason doesn't make a move to break your hold on him.

In slow strokes, your hand wrapped around the thick of it glides across, using the pre-cum to make it easier on the both of you. It's not taking much for his cock to start holding up on its own at the attention, but it's taking up the space you need. Your wrist is going to sting in the morning either way, but still.

Gaining more courage, you dare lift your head and softly kiss his cheek.

You form a better grip around it, continuing to kiss every scar and the edge of his lips while your thumb circles the cockhead. A leg swings over another, and the purrs he's basically humming out by now—his lips sealed in his sleep—nearly muffle how the bed creaks when you move to take place between his.

After grabbing the elastic band of his underwear, you slowly pull it down enough for the length to slip free, already drooling and half-hard.

You lean down to slide your tongue down the side to see if that wakes him up, and it doesn't. 

The taste of him coats your tongue, and you hollow your cheeks, gradually taking it down till it's almost hitting your throat. The second a groan slips, undiscouraged even through the girth, your hands come around his hips to settle them back down more gently after they subconsciously jerked forward.

Musk overwhelms your senses. Your head tilts up to find through lashes that an arm's moved to rest over his forehead.

Bobbing your head in tune with the same shaky movements moments ago, you suck on the flushed tip, the nib throbbing hot and insistent, pinning your tongue down. 

It starts off quiet, but then the breathy moan filling your ears begins to overshadow the whirling fan. What you can't fit down your throat, you use your hands to give equal attention to. Your face slots closer to his taint to kiss at his balls with spread lips.

Thighs flex over and press against either side of your head, clenching and undoing their tense stances every few seconds while the sheets shift with the writhing further up the bed. You grant yourself time to breathe before kissing the head and then trying to take his thick cock back inside.

So deep into the intimacy, your eyes close just to feel a hand in your hair. A sharp tug pulls you off to see the dark curled back over you.

Seeing him from your angle below, there's a thousand things he could do—instead, his nose scrunches up, and rather than rub his own fluttering eyes open, he holds up a hand to block out the stream of light poking through into his space. The other is laid aside as he props himself back onto an elbow.

His voice isn't anything but a slur. "What're you doing?"

"You were having a nightmare, so I woke you up."

Jason's exhaustion rings through the growl that slips. He doesn't need to look at you for long to tug you towards him and press his lips to yours. In a messy drawl, both of your jaws end with salvia glistening over the skin.

They crash insistently onto yours in heated breath.

Although you're definitely going to remember to clean out your mouth in the afterglow of tonight due to the morning breath.

"Don't remember asking for a wake-up call." His breathing stays the same as it has been: heavy while he's pulling you closer to rest his head over one of your shoulders. "But thanks, baby."

White strands of curls stick to his forehead and roll against you. Meanwhile, he's making use of the little space to trace the muscles of your back with the rough pads he has for palms.

He talks against your lips, refusing to pull back even while the edges of his tug at his own.

"You wanna use that mouth again and finish what you started, babe?"

#jason todd x gn reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd #dc comics #gn reader #mine #grabbing and strangling him like bart simps0n. but affectionately

[ecoamerica]

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[all-purpose-dish-soap]

27 / 1.7k / spreading rumors about dating Gaz, part 2

⬇ nsfw; mention of revenge porn

...

Gaz doesn't negotiate. He doesn't back down. When the situation calls for it, he knows when it's time to escalate.

That's why he fucks you on your dining room table instead of a public bathroom. Partly because he's not a slag. The idea of you possibly agreeing to do it--of giving him the same ammunition you gave your ex to humiliate you--leaves a sour taste in his mouth. Even if you started rumors and risked his reputation.

A growl rises in his throat at the thought of your ex having the gall to send him that video of you. Christ. What on Earth did you see in him?

Partly, though, he wants to fuck you in your own house so that when he next sees your prat of an ex-boyfriend, he can properly rub it in that fucker's face that you invited him in on the first date.

Or maybe he'll take a picture of your panties in his teeth. He hasn't decided yet.

You're strung out with pleasure, your bare back against the table. You’re caught between wondering why he wanted to fuck you after all and letting every last reservation about it vanish into nothing. You’ve always wanted this. You never thought it would happen.

"Sergeant," you gasp out. "Is this-- what about your reputation--?"

"Don't start." His fingers trail the lines of your body, his eyes fixed on the parts of you he caught only blurry glimpses of in your ex's video. It didn't do you justice.

He wants to pretend there's nothing to this besides convenience--you did owe him. Hell, you wanted to sleep with him. You always made that crystal clear. Now he's just allowing himself to give in to baser impulses like a dog snatching up a rabbit thrown into its path.

But you're right. This will look bad if someone finds out. He should worried, but it's hard to care about that when the thing competing for his attention is the filthy way your pussy swallows him again and again, seeing how slick you leave the base of his cock.

He should've used a condom. He knows for a fact you knew he didn't and you said nothing. He'd tell you off for it now, too, but he's absolutely certain it would just make you cum. The nerve of you.

His hips stutter for a second before he can banish that thought from his mind. He shouldn't like the idea of you being that obsessed. Acting like you'd do anything he asked. Christ, work would be a nightmare if this got out. Him actually sleeping with you. But then again, he suddenly doesn't much like the idea of you finding a different rebound. You'd just be thinking of him anyway, right? Wouldn’t you?

Whatever. He’ll deal with the fallout later. When he's not enjoying your body.

“Who’s going to know?” he murmurs, eyes falling to your chest. “Let it go.”

“Mkay,” you sigh out. There's nothing more you want than to please him right now.

"You'd do anything I asked, wouldn't you." It's not a question. You both know it's true. And he likes that--he hates admitting it, but he does. His eyes drop to your pussy again, and his hips pick up their pace.

You've spent months flirting with him, teasing him about taking you to bed. Now you're getting everything you want. He's right. Why would you care one goddamn second about the consequences? “Anything.”

He hates how needy you sound when you say that. You're too trusting. He's taking advantage of you. Don't you get that?

His grip on your hips tightens, pushing into you more and more roughly. Your moans rise in pitch and he has to grit his teeth.

“Good." He says lowly. "Then you won't tell a soul about this, will you?"

"But--ah, ngh..." You bite your lip as he stops thrusting and grinds himself into you. You gyrate your hips, needing friction. "But people already think we're together."

“Do they? That’s a bold claim.” You're overestimating how many people believe silly rumors. Besides, it's hardly your concern anymore. He lays his palms flat on the table on either side of you, bracing himself. Your skin is so soft; your neck tempts him, but he restrains himself. "You're keeping your mouth shut from now on, yeah?"

You let out a sound of frustration as he slows even further. You try to push your hips harder against his. "Sergeant, please!"

"You want this, don't you?" His voice is chilled, but the heat in his eyes as he stares down at your bucking hips is hardly discouraging. "You'll want it again. You'll keep wanting it."

"Ugh, yes," you snap, squeezing your thighs fruitlessly around his toned waist.

"As long as you don't tell a soul about this, I’ll see to it that you get what you want," he growls. "Not your team, your friends, your stupid ex. No one."

You open your mouth to question him again, but he pulls away and snaps his hips hard into yours. Whatever you were about to say dissolves into a string of semi-coherent affirmations. Yes, you'll keep it quiet. Yes, you'll pretend none of this ever happened. Yes, you'll never use his name on base again. Anything he wants. Just don't stop.

"Good girl. Good girl..." Easy enough. Now that he knows how to get his way with you, you shouldn't be such a problem anymore. He can’t help but be a little greedy, though. "You're not going to fuck anyone else, either."

"Never!"

He grunts in approval. "And you'll never--and I mean never --try to get back with your ex. Understand? You'll stay away from him."

You writhe and plead, winding your arms around his shoulders. He grabs your wrists and pins them to the table, the muscles in his arms taut.

"Do. You. Understand?" His voice comes down on you like low thunder, all around you.

"Yes!"

"Good. I'll know if you do. Mm…" His breathing grows shallow. Your heat is impossibly tight, and tightening up even more. He squeezes your wrists. "You going to cum?"

"C-Can I?" you breathe out. "Please, can I cum?"

His hips stutter and he has to close his eyes for a moment. God, he's never been tested like this.

"Sergeant, please!"

"Cum," he says, the word short and sharp like gunfire. "Cum on my cock. Right now."

He presses his thumb to your clit and you wail, clenching around him like you haven't cum in weeks. Your body rolls, practically convulses, your head knocking against your dining table as you arch up. He lets out a snarl, not slowing down despite how painfully tight you squeeze him.

Once you come down from the high, his pace never slowing, your swollen core twitches and spasms with overstimulation. You cry out, but you make yourself stay in place. You want to keep making him feel good. You want to make him feel better than he ever has.

"Cum inside me," you pant out. "I-I'm on birth control. You can-- please--"

"You're a liar," he growls through clenched teeth even as he picks up his pace.

"I promise," you plead. Even if you're a liar, and you are, you're not lying about this. God, you want him to do it so bad you can feel yourself clench up again at the thought.

You're teetering on the edge of another orgasm when he pulls out, spilling his load across your chest and stomach instead.

You clench down on nothing, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction even as your orgasm ebbs out of reach. You let your head fall back onto the table, your breathing heavy. You don't see his eyes running over you, deliberating.

"Sergeant?"

"Mm?"

"Do you maybe want my phone number?" Almost seems like a silly question. He has your address now anyway.

"Hm." He pulls away, picking up your discarded purse from the mess of clothes on the floor. He pulls out your phone and opens your texts, types in his number, and sends himself a quick message. Then he finds your conversation with your ex-boyfriend. His eyes narrow. The last texts exchanged were earlier tonight. And you started it. You told him you were out to dinner with someone else. Just to get a rise out of your ex. It obviously worked.

That's okay, he figures, opening the menu and blocking your ex's number. If there's one person he does want to know about this, it's that arsehole. Maybe now he'll stay away from you.

You sit up. "Kyle?"

His eyes meet yours, steady and unwavering. "Yeah?"

"Were you serious?"

"I was."

"Even about coming over again?"

"I mean every word I say.” He hands your phone back to you and begins to get dressed.

You watch him, grasping the edge of the table. "When will you be back?"

"My squad leaves on assignment tomorrow. Don't know how long it'll be." He zips up and grabs his t-shirt. "I'll text you."

"Right, right." You suppress a sigh. "Always got a job to do."

He slings his coat over his shoulder, then pauses. He knows he shouldn't, but he can't help but reach his hand out to your cheek. He runs the back of his finger over your jawline. Then he disguises the tender gesture by gripping your chin and pulling it up so you're looking him in the eye.

"Behave," he tells you, voice low. "No sleeping around. No flirting of any kind. Is that clear?"

Your heart pounds. You swallow and nod.

"Good," he says, holding your gaze a moment longer.

As he leaves, closing the door behind him, he curses himself.

This is not a good idea. What's he trying to do, fix you? Stupid, stupid, stupid. This isn't going to end well. You're not good for him. But damn if he doesn't feel more satisfied than he has in years.

He has no choice. If he wants you to behave, he'll have to keep your eyes on him. Whether he’s on base or not.

...

part 1 / [part 2]

more Gaz / masterlist tag

#mine #story #fem reader #soft dom gaz #kyle gaz garrick #gaz #gaz cod #kyle garrick #gaz Garrick #cod #cod x reader #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader #gaz smut #gaz x reader smut #cod smut

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Home | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, mention of parental death, mentions of abuse

Word Count: 4388

Series Rewrite Masterlist

You sat cross-legged on the floor of the boys’ motel room, sipping a coffee you’d run out to get earlier that morning. Dean was on his computer, and you were responding to the potential cases he’d found.

“A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali—” Dean started.

“Ooh, I like Cali,” you cut him off.

“—Its crew vanished.” He finished.

“And, uh, we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas.” 

“Meh, that’s boring. Let somebody else handle that one,” you dismissed.

Dean noticed Sam hadn’t spoken in just about the last hour. He was frantically scribbling on a notepad.

“Hey,” Dean called to his brother. “Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?”

“No. I’m listening. Keep going.”

He clearly wasn’t.

“And, here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times.”

“Ooh, I like that one,” you said. 

Dean leaned over and waved a hand in front of Sam’s face. “Any of these things blowin’ up your skirt, pal?”

Sam furrowed his eyebrows at his notepad. “Wait. I’ve seen this.”

“Seen what?” you asked.

Sam got up from his bed and began rifling through his duffel bag. 

“What are you doing?” Dean eyed his brother strangely.

The younger brother pulled out a photo from the bag and held it up next to his drawing. You couldn’t quite see what he was looking at from where you sat.

“Guys, I know where we have to go next.”

“Where?” Dean asked.

“Back home. Back to Kansas,” he responded.

The older brother was surprised. “Okay, random. Where’d that come from?”

He showed the photo to the two of you. “Alright, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right? The house where Mom died?”

“Yeah…?” Dean still had no idea where he was going with this.

“And it didn’t burn down, right? I mean, not completely, they rebuilt it, right?” 

Dean— as well as you— was still lost. “I guess so, yeah. What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

“Okay, look, this is gonna sound crazy but… the people who live in our old house— I think they might be in danger,” Sam rushed out.

“Why would you think that?” you questioned.

“Uh… it’s just, um… look, just trust me on this, okay?” Sam turned away.

“Wait, whoa, whoa, trust you?” Dean shook his head and stood to follow him. “Come on, man, that’s weak. You gotta give us a little bit more than that.”

“I can’t really explain it is all,” Sam shrugged.

“Well, tough. I’m not goin’ anywhere until you do.” 

You turned to face Sam as he began to explain. “I have these nightmares.”

You nodded. “We’ve noticed.”

“And sometimes… they come true.”

Dean was stunned. “Come again?”

“Look, Dean… I dreamt about Jessica’s death— for days before it happened,” Sam explained.

“Sam, people have weird dreams, man. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.” Dean sat back down on the edge of his bed. 

“No,” the younger brother protested. “I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn’t do anything about it ‘cause I didn’t believe it. And now I’m dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that’s where it all started, man, this has to mean something, right?”

You felt overwhelmed, and so did Dean. “I don’t know.”

Sam sat down across from his brother. “What do you mean you don’t know, Dean? This woman might be in danger. I mean, this might even be the thing that killed Mom and Jessica!”

“Sam, slow down—” you urged him, knowing Dean was about to go through the roof.

Sure enough, Dean stood and started pacing. “I mean, first you tell me that you’ve got the Shining? And then you tell me that I’ve gotta go back home? Especially when….”

“When what?” you asked.

Dean’s voice broke for the first time since you’d met him. “When I swore to myself that I would never go back there?”

Sam’s puppy dog eyes appeared as he spoke softly, “Look, Dean, we have to check this out. Just to make sure.”

Dean nodded. “I know we do.”

***

You looked out at the boys’ childhood home and followed them up to the front door.

“You gonna be alright, man?” Sam asked his brother who didn’t respond.

“Jury’s still out on that,” you muttered in response.

Dean knocked on the front door, and a young woman answered. You could see a look of recognition pass over Sam’s face.

“Yes?” the woman said.

“Sorry to bother you, ma’am, but we’re with the Federal—”

One Winchester cut the other off. “I’m Sam Winchester, and this is my brother, Dean. We used to live here. You know, we were just drivin’ by, and we were wondering if we could come see the old place.”

The woman seemed surprised and smiled. “Winchester. Yeah, that’s so funny. You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night.” She turned to you. “Are you a Winchester, too? I didn’t see a little girl in any of the pictures.”

You shook your head. “No, no. Just a friend. (Y/N).”

She smiled at you. “Nice to meet you. Come on in.”

Inside the home, a girl who looked to be around seven sat at the table doing homework, and a little boy who was presumably two jumped in his playpen.

“Juice! Juice! Juice! Juice!” the toddler called excitedly.

“That’s Ritchie. He’s kind of a juice junkie,” Jenny explained, taking a sippy cup from the fridge and bringing it to her son. “But, hey, at least he won’t get scurvy.” She walked back over to her daughter. “Sari, this is Sam, Dean, and (Y/N). The boys used to live here.”

“Hi,” the shy girl said quietly.

You waved.

“So, you just moved in?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, from Wichita.”

“You got family here, or…?”

Jenny’s smile faded. “No. I just, uh… needed a fresh start, that’s all. So, new town, new job— I mean, as soon as I find one. New house.”

“So, how you likin’ it so far?” Sam questioned.

Jenny laughed awkwardly. “Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home— I mean, I’m sure you had lots of happy memories here—”

You discreetly turned to see Dean smile weakly. 

“But this place has its issues,” she finished.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Well, it’s just getting old. Like the wiring, you know? We’ve got flickering lights almost hourly.”

That caught your attention. “Oh, that’s too bad. What else?”

“Um…sink’s backed up, there’s rats in the basement…” She trailed off. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to complain.”

Dean shook his head. “No. Have you seen the rats or have you just heard scratching?”

Jenny looked at him quizzically. “It’s just the scratching, actually.”

Sari tugged on her mom’s shirt, who stooped down next to her. “Ask them if it was here when they lived here.”

“What, Sari?” Sam asked.

“The thing in my closet,” she whispered as if the thing would hear.

“Oh, no, baby, there was nothing in their closets.” Jenny looked up to you and the boys. “Right?”

They shook their heads.

“She had a nightmare the other night,” Jenny explained.

Sari’s voice suddenly got louder. “I wasn’t dreaming. It came into my bedroom and it was on fire.”

The boys seemed too shocked to speak.

You took over. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You’re okay now though, right?”

She nodded.

“See? It didn’t get ya. It was only a dream.”

You knew it wasn’t. A pit filled your stomach after saying your goodbyes to the family and heading out of the door. 

“You hear that? A figure on fire,” Sam reminded the two of you.

“And that woman, Jenny, that was the woman in your dreams?” Dean asked.

"Yeah. And you hear what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering lights, both signs of a malevolent spirit.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just freaked out that your weirdo visions are comin’ true,” the older brother chuckled humorlessly.

“Well, forget about that for a minute. The thing in the house, do you think it’s the thing that killed Mom and Jessica?”

“I don’t know!” Dean responded.

The brothers were only making each other panic worse at this point.

“Well, I mean, has it come back or has it been here the whole time?” Sam inquired.

“Or maybe it’s something else entirely, Sam, we don’t know yet.”

“Both of you need to calm down,” you told them, simultaneously getting in the car. “We’re gonna get those people safe. Whatever’s in there is not gonna hurt you or those people.”

“Thank you, Dr. Phil,” Dean remarked.

You snapped into a more intense tone, leaning over the backseat. “Look, dude, you’re gonna get your shit together. The two of you are only ramping each other up. Now, you are going to get a grip or I will do this job on my own.”

Sam and Dean both nodded.

“You’re runnin’ low on gas, Dee.” You patted Dean’s cheek before sitting back against your chair. 

***

“We just gotta chill out, that’s all,” Dean said as he pumped gas. 

“I’ve tried telling you that eighty times since we left that house.”

He ignored your snide comment. “You know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do?”

"We’d try to figure out what we were dealin’ with. We’d dig into the history of the house,” Sam sighed.

"Exactly,” the older brother began, “except this time, we already know what happened.”

"Yeah, but how much do we know? I mean, how much do you actually remember?”

"About that night, you mean?”

"Yeah.”

Dean paused. “Not much. I remember the fire… the heat. And then I carried you out the front door.”

You looked at the floor, knowing how hard this must be for him to open up.

“You did?” the younger Winchester asked.

"Yeah, what, you never knew that?”

"No.”

“And, well, you know Dad’s story as well as I do. Mom was— was on the ceiling. And whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her.”

“And he never had a theory about what did it?”

“If he did, he kept it to himself. God knows we asked him enough times.”

"Okay. So, if we’re gonna figure out what’s goin’ on now…we have to figure out what happened back then. And see if it’s the same thing.”

You decided to add your two cents. “Yeah. We can talk to your dad’s friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time.”

Silence blanketed the three of you for a moment, the air feeling heavy. 

“Does this feel like just another job to you?” Sam piped up.

‘Of course, it doesn’t,’ you thought.

Dean kept quiet for a moment. “I’ll be right back,” he finally said. “I gotta go to the bathroom.” He walked away, and you watched him turn the corner around the gas station. He looked back for a moment, and you assumed it was to see if anyone had followed him.

You furrowed your brows. You allowed a few minutes to pass before you announced to Sam, “I’m gonna go check on Dean.”

While you turned the corner, you saw Dean exiting the bathroom door. He sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. When he noticed you, he tried to shoulder his normal attitude.

“You stalkin’ me?”

“No, actually, I came to check on you.”

“Well, I’m fine.” He went to brush past you.

You grabbed his bicep. “Don’t lie to me.”

He stopped, looking you over. “I’m fine, sweetheart.”

“Then what’s this?” you gently brushed your first finger under his chin, picking up a tear he had forgotten to wipe away. You held it up for him to see.

Dean opened his mouth to say something before snapping it shut again. He gently pulled his arm out of your grip. “C’mon, let’s go.” He started walking away from you.

You caught up to him, asking, “Are you sure you don’t just want me to do this one by myself?”

He nodded sharply. 

Sam gave you a curious look while Dean got in the car.

You shook your head before the two of you ducked into the Impala simultaneously.

***

The three of you spoke to a man who had owned a car garage with John years ago. You learned how much John had changed before Mary’s death versus after, and you began to understand why Dean was the way he was. You also learned that he had been going to see a palm reader in town. Dean recognized the names of one of the palm readers Sam had read from a compiled list: Missouri Moseley. The three of you went over to her house and waited in her foyer as she finished with her last client.

She guided the client out of the door. “Alright, there. Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing. Your wife is crazy about you.”

The man thanked her, and she closed the door behind you.

She addressed the three of you. “Whew. Poor bastard. His woman is cold-bangin’ the gardener.”

You giggled.

“Why didn’t you tell him?” Dean asked.

“People don’t come here for the truth. They come for good news,” the woman explained. You stared at her, as did the boys.

“Well? Sam, Dean, (Y/N), come on already, I ain’t got all day.”

You looked at Dean. You knew you hadn’t told her your name. The three of you followed her into the next room. 

“Well, lemme look at ya,” she smiled at the boys. “Oh, you boys grew up handsome.” She pointed her finger at Dean. “And you were one goofy-lookin’ kid, too.” 

You giggled again. You liked her a lot.

“Sam.” Missouri grabbed his hand. “Oh, honey…I’m sorry about your girlfriend. And your father— he’s missin’?”

“How’d you know all that?” Sam asked her.

“Well, you were just thinkin’ it just now.”

“Well, where is he? Is he okay?” Dean questioned.

Missouri’s smile faded. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t know? Well, you’re supposed to be a psychic, right?” 

“Boy, you see me sawin’ some bony tramp in half? You think I’m a magician? I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can’t just pull facts out of thin air. Sit, please.”

You smirked at Sam and sat down.

Missouri snapped at Dean. “Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I’m ‘a whack you with a spoon!”

“I didn’t do anything!” he responded.

“But you were thinkin’ about it.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, and you and Sam smiled.

“(Y/N), honey, I didn’t mean to completely disregard you,” she smiled at you. “(Y/L/N)... where do I know that name from?” She pondered for a moment and her smile faded. “I knew your dad. Mean ol’ bastard.”

Your throat clenched. You could feel the boys looking at you, but you kept your eyes on Missouri. 

“I don’t mean to embarrass you,” she went on. “I’m just sorry about what he did to you. And your brother? You poor thing.” She tsked. 

Tears welled in your eyes. 

Sam knew he should change the subject. “Okay. So, our dad— when did you first meet him?”

“He came for a reading. A few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say I drew back the curtains for him,” Missouri explained.

“What about the fire? Do you know about what killed our mom?” Dean questioned.

“A little. Your daddy took me to your house. He was hopin’ I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing.”

“And could you?”

You tried to focus on the conversation, but your throat was still choked up. You could vaguely register them talking about what Missouri sensed in their house and how she had been keeping an eye on the place since Mary’s passing. All you could focus on were the memories you were being pulled back into. Memories of what your father put you through and how your mother just stood by. Memories of defending your brother against your father’s wickedness. You tried your best to pull yourself back to the light; you knew Missouri could hear what you were thinking. You wouldn’t let yourself be weak enough to let your father hurt you eight years after his death.

“Baby, you are not weak.” Missouri’s voice pulled you back to shore. “I’m sorry I brought all that up for you.”

You nodded at her, voice too weak to respond. Sam squeezed your hand, and you could feel Dean’s gaze boring into the side of your head. 

***

You and the boys headed back to their childhood home with Missouri. You still couldn’t register what was going on outside of your own head. You knew Missouri hadn’t truly brought anything up for you; these memories were all just buried under the surface for you. Hunting didn’t exactly leave much time for you to dwell on your emotions. 

Jenny allowed Missouri to come into her home and showed her and your trio into Sari’s bedroom. You were beginning to come back to earth and could focus on the conversation happening around you. 

“If there’s a dark energy around here, this room should be the center of it,” Missouri explained, walking around Sari’s room. 

“Why?” Sam asked.

Missouri turned to him. “This used to be your nursery, Sam. This is where it all happened.”

Dean pulled out his repurposed walkman.

“That an EMF?” Missouri asked.

“Yeah,” Dean answered.

“Amateur,” she deadpanned.

You noticed the EMF was beeping frantically. 

“I don’t know if you boys should be disappointed or relieved, but this ain’t the thing that took your mom,” Missouri told the Winchesters.

“Wait, are you sure?” Sam furrowed his eyebrows.

She nodded.

“How do you know?”

“It isn’t the same energy I felt the last time I was here. It’s somethin’ different.”

“What is it?” Dean asked.

“Not it.” Missouri opened the closer. “Them. There’s more than one spirit in this place.”

“What are they doing here?” Dean asked.

“They’re here because of what happened to your family. You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walked this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds. And sometimes, wounds get infected,” Missouri elaborated.

Sam shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

“This place is a magnet for paranormal energy. It’s attracted a poltergeist. A nasty one. And it won’t rest until Jenny and her babies are dead.”

“You said there was more than one spirit.”

“There is. I just can’t quite make out the second one.”

Dean’s voice became hard. “Well, one thing’s for damn sure— nobody’s dyin’ in this house ever again. So whatever is here, how do we stop it?”

***

After Missouri taught you how to pack small protection bags that you and the boys were to place in the cardinal points on both floors in Jenny’s house, you had to get Jenny and her kids out of harm's way.

“Look, I’m not sure I’m comfortable leaving you guys here alone,” she told Missouri.

“Just take your kids to the movies or somethin’, and it’ll be over by the time you get back.”

You could tell the woman was still unsure, but she followed orders anyway. And with that, the four of you got to work.

When you were halfway done with the job, things started to get ugly. Just as you were about to place your second and final bag in the wall of Jenny’s bedroom, a cord snaked around your neck and pulled tightly. You dropped the bag of herbs to the ground; unable to get it into the wall in time. You gasped for air, frantically reaching for the bag but the spirit’s hold was too strong. Your vision began to spot and your face contorted in discomfort; doing the best you could to get air in your lungs. It was no use. Just when you thought it was over, Dean rushed to your side.

“(Y/N)!” he cried, pulling at the cord with all his might.

You clawed at your neck with one hand and motioned to the bag of herbs with the other. Dean understood what you were trying to say, and kicked a hole in the wall. He quickly put the bag inside, and your neck was released. Your head fell to the ground gasping for air.

Dean pulled you into a fierce hug that left you breathless. He pulled back from you, holding your face on either side. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. He gingerly touched the place where the cord had undoubtedly bruised your neck. “Can you stand?”

You nodded again. With Dean’s help, you made your way down to Missouri and Sam who stood in the middle of an extremely messy kitchen. Jenny’s kitchen table had been turned on its side with knives driven through the top of it, assumedly by the ghosts. The refrigerator door was swung wide open, and various items from the pantry had spilled out all over the place. 

“You sure this is over?” Sam asked the psychic.

“I’m sure. Why? Why do you ask?”

Sam sighed in response. “Never mind. It’s nothin’, I guess.”

The front door opened.

“Hello? We’re home,” Jenny announced when she walked into the house. She came into the kitchen, dumbfounded by the mess. “What happened?”

"Hi, sorry. Um, we’ll pay for all of this,” Sam told her.

“Don’t you worry. Dean’s gonna clean up this mess,” Missouri added.

Dean stood glued to his spot.

“Well, what are you waiting for, boy? Get the mop.”

He glared at Missouri, but began walking away nonetheless.

“And don’t cuss at me!”

***

You remained confused by how Dean had hugged you for the rest of the night which you spent in the Impala parked in front of Jenny’s house.

“Alright, so, tell me again, what are we still doin’ here?” Dean asked his brother.

“I don’t know. I just… I still have a bad feeling,” he responded.

“Why? Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubenstein thing, the house should be clean, it should be over.”

“Yeah, well, probably. But I just wanna make sure, that’s all.”

Dean slumped down in his seat. “Yeah, well, problem is I could be sleeping in a bed right now.”

You slumped down in your seat, too, only to see Jenny screaming and banging on her bedroom window. “Guys, look!”

The three of you rushed into the house.

“You two grab the kids, I’ll get Jenny,” Dean said.

You nodded and sprinted to Ritchie’s room. The sleeping toddler was startled when you woke him up, but allowed you to carry him downstairs nonetheless. You met Sam by the front door who said to Sari, “Take your brother outside as fast as you can, and don’t look back.” She obliged and took the little boy from you. 

Before the two of you could do anything else, you were slammed to the ground and dragged backward across the tile floor. You could hear poor Sari screaming as you and Sam were dragged away. 

You were pinned to the wall by an invisible force and pushed up toward the ceiling. You could hear presumably Dean hacking away at the door, trying desperately to get in as a figure on fire approached you.

Dean made his way into the home and called your names frantically. He raised his gun at the fire figure when he caught sight of it.

“No, don’t! Don’t!” Sam cried.

“What, why?!” you asked.

“Because I know who it is. I can see her now.”

And then, the fire vanished revealing who you recognized from pictures as Mary Winchester. She was wearing a white nightgown and her blonde hair billowed softly around her. Her feet were bare, and her aging skin was only slightly wrinkled.

You could see tears rising in Dean’s eyes as he lowered his gun. “Mom?”

The woman smiled and stepped closer to him. “Dean.”

She walked toward you and her youngest son. “Sam.” Her smile faded. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asked. 

She looked at him sadly, but said nothing.  

The woman turned to you last. “Thank you,” she said. 

You smiled back at her, though you weren’t quite sure what she was thanking you for.

She turned away and looked up toward the ceiling. “You get out of my house. And let go of my son.” Her hair and nightgown were swept up into flames once more. The fire licked up to the ceiling, growing larger before disappearing entirely. You and Sam were released from the wall at once.

“Now it’s over,” Sam muttered.

***

The sun had risen while you and the boys were in the house. You called Missouri back to the Winchesters’ childhood home, and she sat on the porch talking with Sam.

You were standing with Dean by the car looking through his old family photos.

“Thanks for these,” Dean told Jenny.

“Don’t thank me, they’re yours.”

Dean put the trunk of photos and family memorabilia in the car.  You and Dean bid Jenny, who thanked you, goodbye before leaning against the car together. The two of you knew you had a lot to talk about, but you weren’t brave enough to start the conversation.

“Are you okay?” Dean asked you.

You couldn’t look at him. “Why do you ask?”

“I think you know.”

You paused a moment before turning to face him. “I promise I’ll tell you, just… not today.” You stuck out your pinkie for him to take.

He chuckled at you. “What are we, five?”

“Just do it, asshole,” you smiled back.

He linked his pinkie with yours, shaking your hand back and forth lightly. The two of you stood there for a second, staring at each other and getting lost in the moment. Before long, you both realized what was going on and jerked away from each other.

Dean scratched his head. “Sam, you ready?” he called.

Sam nodded and came over to the car.

“Don’t you kids be strangers,” Missouri told you.

“We won’t,” Dean responded. 

“See you around,” the woman winked at you.

You smiled at her before getting in the car and driving away. 

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @thepocketverse @simpingdeadcharacters @elqsiian @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @doublecrazyyymofo

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

[hazbinfallinginaspiral]

Nightmares (Vox x Reader)

The night was suffocatingly silent as I bolted upright in bed, my heart racing from the remnants of the nightmare that had gripped me moments before. With trembling hands, I reached for the lamp on the bedside table, casting a dim glow across the room as I struggled to regain my composure.

In and out. I just needed to breathe. I instinctively reached next to me for Vox but found he wasn’t there. I was in bed alone. I glanced around the empty room, the shadows dancing ominously in the corners, and the sense of isolation washed over me like a tidal wave. Without thinking, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stumbled to my feet, my bare feet padding softly against the cool wooden floor.

“Vox?” The hallway was shrouded in darkness as I navigated its familiar twists and turns, my breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as I searched for him. "Vox?" I called out, my voice trembling as I whispered his name into the silence, the sound echoing faintly off the walls.

I squinted my eyes, trying to see through the darkness as I stumbled through the hall. “Mmn…” I mumbled. “Vox? Are you up?” I asked, fear rising in my chest.

I saw the soft light from his office at the end of the hallway, and I hurried towards it, my heart pounding in my chest. As I reached the doorway, I saw him sitting in the dimly lit room, his eyes filled with concern as he watched me approach.

“Darling?” His screen got brighter, giving me a clear view of him. “What are you doing up at this hour?”

“I…” I shook my head. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“What? No, of course not,” he said, looking confused. “I’m perfectly fine.”

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice laced with worry as he stood up and crossed the room to meet me. Without a word, I collapsed into his arms, the tears streaming down my cheeks as I buried my face against his chest.

"I-I had a nightmare," I choked out, my voice barely above a whisper as I clung to him, my fingers clutching desperately at the fabric of his shirt. "I... I needed find you."

Vox's arms tightened around me, pulling me close as he murmured soothing words of comfort and reassurance. "It's okay," he whispered, his voice a soft melody in the darkness. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

“And you’re okay?” I asked quietly, holding him tight.

“Yes, my dear,” he said, rubbing my back comfortingly. “Are you?”

“Mph,” I mumbled against his shirt. “I… I think so,” I said quietly. “Now that you’re here…. I think- I think I’ll be okay.”

“Okay..” he pulled away slightly, trying to guide me to the couch or chair. I mistook this as him trying to leave.

“No! No,” I said, clinging to him desperately. “Don’t leave. Please. I need you,” I whispered, burying my head against his chest again. “I need you. Please. Please stay.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he murmured, holding me back. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be with you for as long as you need.”

“P-promise?”

His heart seemed to break at the sight of me like this, clinging to him desperately. As if my life depended on it, as if the world would end if I let go. He wondered what I’d dreamed about that had caused me such distress. He shook his head, clearing the thoughts away. That didn’t matter now. I was crying, he had to comfort me.

“I promise,” he said.

“I love you,” I said quietly.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how I’d said that I needed him. I’d never admitted to it before. And then… that ‘I love you’. He searched his memory, but it was clear. I’d never said that to him before, either. He smiled softly, despite the circumstances, and held me tighter.

“I- I love you,” I said again, my voice muffled as I pressed myself against him.

“I love you too, my dear.”

#hazbin hotel #vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #writing #vox x reader #my writing #x reader #vox fanfiction #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction

[shippyo]

@kirbyoctournament

Introducing to you all,the only one and unique....

Personality

She is extremely calm, she never seems to be bothered by anything, she is kind as much as she can be capable of saying something cruel, like life itself is, she always seems patient, because for her anything is ephemeral, even herself, but she will always be open to a conversation, she will advise you and will try to give her point of view about herself, always in a respectful manner.

Powers

Life is ironically capable of taking life from other beings, to reincarnate them into a new being with her mere hands, usually looking like butterflies like her first daughter Morpho Knight.

She is capable to cast divine-looking lights,usually looks like a swarm of butterflies, although she won't attack in 99,9% of the times but the hundreds of her children will defend her.

Its mere presence is calming but its true form is unknown to common sense and if someone dared to see the beauty of life in its entirety, the impact it would have on your consciousness would be devastating, but with it, who knows, maybe it would be able to restore the unimaginable at the cost of resting for eons.

Life is capable of teleporting to any place in any universe, she never chooses a specific place, it enjoys walking and you can see her in the most beautiful fields of flowers or in the cruelest wars, you can consider yourself lucky to witness her, because it is practically a miracle.

And never mess with something beyond your comprehension cause only death can end all what she is.

Canon characters she knows or knows that exist

Morpho

Her first daughter, before it was a different being who arrived by unknown means to the dimension of Life, she begged her not to send her to the afterlife, she didn't want that, the pain was so inmense due to her cruel Life that she just begged to stop existing, life, on the other hand, did something different and used its power for the first time in what became a being, completely new and at peace,Morpho has an unbreakable loyalty towards the being she now calls "mother"

Necrodeus

"Someone I loved? Or do i still love?"

The void

A being from the void reemerges from the heart, all always in a different way like Kirby or Zero himself, as if they were children yet to determine their destiny inside their mother or heart in this case, Life does not know them directly, it only knows that they exist and for some reason, she loves them, she feels a maternal sensation as if all those beings had been part of her at some point, although she can't explain why.

Lore

[this part might not be that extense but cropping to not cluster everything,enjoy💖]

Once life was reborn, but before that, there was a life before, yes, a time when everything was different.

Once there was a woman in whom a new life was generated inside her, all on her wedding day on an now unknown place, butterflies fluttering, next to her pure white bone dress, walking towards who would be her husband, everything was complete happiness everything seemed to never end but...

At one point, when the husband was about to put the ring on the lady that would seal their love, something trembled and out of nowhere, everything broke into stardust, in the last seconds of pain and confusion, the lovers did not know that it was the end of everything known and unknown.

Life had died.

Or was it really like that?

Life woke up once again from...a dream? A nightmare? What was that even? Where was she now?

Is life really itself? She felt a pain that would gradually fade away along with the memory of what happened, at the same time another figure,the death itself also woke up where they were, they both looked at each other, they had never seen each other... like this?

But still they both felt a sense of nostalgia, something empty in them throbbed strongly, while memories of... themselves? or something that seemed like the they that they are now joined in their confused memories

" know you."

"But who were you?"

"Were we them? But who were we supposed to be?"

"Now, what are we?"

They both said, but neither could give an accurate answer.

And it didn't matter anymore.

A new everything emerged from nothing and they were part of that everything.

Life and death separated each one on their own for a long time searching, trying to know what they had to do, what it all meant, who those beings were.

until, one day after eons they met again to conclude that everything was nothing.

Nothing had meaning other than existing.

Nothing they could have experienced was eternal, they both came to the conclusion that everything would die to become a new whole again.

From their past memories they concluded that this was just a new phase in an eternal cycle without explanation, in which life would return only for death itself in its last seconds to kill her so that all of life would re-emerge as a new one when it was about to end and NEVER be the same as before.

And that couple, it may or may not have been them, it didn't matter, because they are no longer those entities and this will happen again and again, they are merely a new version of themselves of those they were and will be in the future.

It didn't make sense, nor did they both want that cruel fate, it's confusing, it's unfair,death even cried out of mere frustration.

But there was no escape, no being could escape it.

After this, now both beings try to find a filling for the void in their hearts, death wandering throught any universe and cursing "the all" for this meaninglessness, while life, still almost always remaining in her own dimension, a blank world that is in everywhere and nowhere, sometimes descends to any world that reaches the imagination wandering through them to perhaps find her own the meaning of life.

#kirby oc #shippysillyart #fanart #kirby #kirbyoctournament #kirby art #necrodeus #morpho knight #zero #void termina #the void #kirby fanart #life oc #kirby oc (life)

[leascorner]

f.g.w. | Trouble

Summary:  After the war, Fred met Y/N at St Mungo's Hospital. At that time, they both thought the other was trouble. In the end, they both discovered all the meanings of that word.

Pairing:  Fred Weasley x f!healer!reader

Warnings: Mention of death and near death experience, injuries, blood, probably incorrect medical notions, some swearing, happy ending

Word Count: 5.1k

Masterlist

“Uh-oh”, George said, practically running from the front of the store up to the cashier counter. “Trouble.”

His twin brother had no time to ask what was going on; the doorbell rang, indicating a new customer had entered the shop. Fred blinked and suddenly, George was somehow nowhere to be seen. Steady steps coming up to the register resonated in the boutique that was as usual quite empty on this Tuesday morning. No need for him to look to the front door, he knew he was indeed up for trouble.

Turning to face his worst nightmare - a woman named Y/N, furiously making her way to him - Fred put his best customer face on. Her face was wearing the same frown as the day he met her at Saint Mungo's Hospital. He, that day, had been called in after some kid had used one of his products out of its original purpose and nobody there could work out how to reverse back the spell.

Holding his breath, Fred watched her walking toward him until she made it to the counter and laid on it what seemed to have been one of these kid magic wands they sold at the store. From the state of it, Fred knew he was in for a lecture… Again.

“This was up someone’s arse.”

“Godric!” Fred immediately shouted. He had seen a lot of things - their customers were somehow as inventive as they were - but he had never expected such things. With a swift move of his wrist, he made it disappear. “How did it even get there?”

“I did not ask!” she shouted back.

Y/N had been an official graduated healer for nearly a year now. She had started her curriculum the year before the war started, just after graduating from Hogwarts, and sometimes after a twenty-four-hours shifts like the one she just had, she was regretting the black magic spells injuries. Nothing compared to the lot of injuries she was dealing with from the twins jokes shop products.

“Seriously, please just-” she sighed, passing a hand on her face out of frustration. “It’s all I deal with all day, I can’t anymore.”

In that last year, Fred and she had become some kinds of acquaintances - Y/N was regularly paying the twins a visit at the end of her shifts. Though he acted annoyed most of the time, he was actually quite fond of her. His favourite thing about her was how she would respond to anything he would throw at her. He did not even know her that long, yet he already knew just how to push her buttons.

So, of course, he couldn’t resist doing it again today.

“You should see what we have in the works, then.”

Frown quite not leaving the lines of her face yet, she followed him in the back shop where he meticulously explained her all about this very new product he had thought about that same morning – a new invention that not even George knew about it.

Biting his inner cheek, he watched impatiently the line between her eyebrows grew even deeper as she read the parchment with the ingredients for the product: a potion. This was not the first time he had pitched a new product idea to her. In the past, George had even insisted they presented her with some of their riskier ideas. She had never turned down any of them, even encouraging them to work on them further - though she had them promise to send a patronus to her if they were testing anything she thought would be deadly. Fred was convinced that, despite her grumpy attitude, she actually quite enjoyed being asked for help.

“You can’t mix this quantity of octopus powder and erumpent horn together,” she finally spoke.

“Why not?”

Y/N looked back at Fred, her eyes scanning his face to know if he was being serious. As if he ever had been serious. “Have you seriously never listened to anything Snape ever taught you?” Quite frankly, he had listened to it much more than he would admit, but he wouldn’t tell her that. “I am serious, Fred,” she scowled.

“Alright, alright!” Fred rose his hands in defence. He knew from the way Y/N sighed that her concern for his own physical integrity was genuine. Just like probably everyone else, she was aware of what had happened to him during the battle of Hogwarts – he had a severe brain injury that left him in the hospital for months and from which he was still recovering. Unlike anyone else, she didn’t remind him constantly what a little fragile thing he was and how he must be taking it easy. Though he probably wouldn’t admit it to her face, he was grateful to her.

Fred was rather interested on what she was thinking of his new idea, so he knew better than to continue annoying her. She made him nervous taking her sweet time to examine the parchment. He couldn’t tell if it was a bad thing or not. She had been more enthusiastic when George and he pitched her other ideas. Perhaps he had just gotten himself overexcited about this new product; perhaps it was just bad.

“So, what do you think?” Fred asked when he couldn’t take it anymore.

“It sounds good,” she reassured him, without looking at him. “It’s the ingredients I am not sure about. I’m not sure it would work,” she mumbled, still focus on the parchment, and Fred could nearly see the cogs of her brain working behind her eyes.

“I’ll work on this,” he assured.

Y/N only nodded in answer. Fred could see something was bugging her, but she couldn’t quite tell what. He studied the expression of her face; how her frown had changed – from the grumpy one to one of             concentration. He noticed how she would scrunch her nose ever so slightly as she focused as well.

He thought she looked cute like that and immediately slapped himself internally for having such thoughts. Y/N was not cute, she was the pain in his ass that would show up every other day at the shop to lecture him. She was simply annoying and way smarter than him though she was not one to rub it in everybody’s face – he was pretty sure she had been that person to cry after a test as she supposedly failed, but still got an ‘A’.

They stayed in silence a couple more minutes, Y/N still trying to figure out what was missing in the potion recipe, Fred watching her every move, before the doorbell rang again. A new customer had come in, breaking the spell.

“I have to go,” Y/N stated, after checking the time. She gave the parchment back to Fred and watched as he abandoned him on top of his messy desks – it was so messy she wasn’t sure he would be able to find it again. “Just put some kinds of warning for the other thing.”

“External use only, got it.”

She rolled her eyes, but still smiled softly before bidding goodbye and leaving him alone in the back shop.

A few weeks later, on one of the last days of January, Fred had just finished the grant post-holidays inventory when he found the parchment again. With the rush of the end of the year, he had totally forgotten about it.

Diagon Alley was covered in snow at that time of the year and the weather was so bad that no soul would have dared to put even a toe outside in the cold. He knew he wouldn’t have any customers today, so he decided to put his time to a better use and test out this new product.

He gathered all of the ingredients from the reserve and got to work. Everything went well until it was down to the last ingredient: Octopus Powder. Taking the bag and measuring the exact amount he needed, he suddenly recalled the conversation he had with Y/N and how she insisted this amount of Octopus Powder would be too dangerous. He had heard her concern, yet he was still sure it was going to be fine.

Just before adding it to the mix, he finally had second thoughts; just in case, it wouldn't hurt to have a patronus ready. So, he reached out for his wand and materialized a patronus, requesting for it to find Y/N if anything was to happen to him. With his patronus magpie on his shoulder, he didn’t even think twice this time and poured the entire amount of powder in his cauldron. The mixture started boiling quite aggressively and Fred braced himself for it to explode, but nothing happened.

When the boiling stopped, his only thought was that he just couldn’t wait to tell Y/N how wrong she had been– though he wouldn’t admit it to her, but he still had sighed out of relief everything went fine. He turned to his patronus, ready to dismiss it as everything was fine.

He had barely taken his eyes off the potion that it suddenly exploded; his body was thrown into the air as if he was a paper doll.

“Can you tell me your name?”, Y/N asked as she made Fred follow the light coming out of her wand. He had been awake from the coma following his accident for a good thirty minutes now.

“Fredrick Gideon Weasley.”

Y/N nodded, watching him as she made another back-and-forth movement with her hand. Pupillary response to light, checked. Pupillary response to the dark, checked. Equal pupils’ size, checked. She was mentally ticking every part of the post-concussion protocol she knew by heart; everything so far seemed to be normal.

Yet, she could still feel her heart beating furiously in her chest. She had experienced utter panic when his patronus found her, something she had never felt before – even during the darkest time of the war. She had been one of the first to apparate within the shop and found him in what was left of their workshop. She had heard his troubled breathing under the bits of stones, wood and plasterboard, and for one split second, she had thought she would never hear him tease her ever again. She still could feel how his mother, Molly, grabbed at her once she got to Saint Mungo's Hospital, as if she was a lifebuoy. How would she have liked to let her know everything would be alright at that time, but she herself couldn’t even trust her words.

It had been a long couple of days before Fred finally woke up. She had stayed with him during all of her breaks. She had made sure his family was alright and that they had all the food they needed without leaving his side. All while she, on the other side, ate very little – her stomach was in knots from the worry. Even if she tried, Y/N couldn’t shake the memories out of her head. The image of a very blank unconscious Fred covered in blood was there, printed on the back of her eyelids, every single time she closed her eyes, so she didn’t sleep either.

That night, his family had finally left his side after a lot of convincing from Y/N that everybody would feel better after a good night of sleeps in their own bed. As she was just coming in to check his vitals yet again, she had found him there, eyes wild open. She knew she shouldn’t be treating one of her acquaintances, but she was one of the few healers on call that night and she only couldn’t care less anyway. He was alive. That was all that matters.

Putting away her wand, she thought of what was next on the protocol and continued: “When were you born?”

“First of April, nineteen-seventy-eight.”

“What were-”

“I know the deal,” Fred sighed, he had already been there after all. He knew she was just going to ask him stupid questions to make sure he had no memory lost; he could at least save them the trouble. “I’ve got four brothers, a twin brother, a sister. I left Hogwarts before even graduating to open a joke shop with my brother. ‘Been doing that twenty-four seven ‘til now. I’ve mixed Octopus Powder and Erumpent horn, hence I ended up here.”

Y/N eyed him, a stern look on her face as she realised what caused his accident. After they had found Fred, they tried understanding what happened. If they had gathered that he was preparing a potion, they weren’t sure what really had caused an explosion. Never had she thought about their earlier conversation a couple of months ago.

“And you can go ahead and tell me I told you so.”

She kept silent, not knowing what to say. She was angry with him still doing what she had explicitly warned him about – mixing this quantity of those two ingredients. She – and probably everyone he knew – had had the scare of their life. But lecturing him now wouldn’t change the outcome. The good thing was that he had been clever enough to send a patronus, so he had been found in time. It could have been way – way – worse.

Not trusting her words, she made him tilt his head so she could have a proper look at the bandage wrapped around his head. His wound had not bled since the last time the dressing was changed, which was also good thing. He had woken up and was talking. He didn’t have any memory loss and was responsive to all neurological exams. He was going to be alright, she tried to reassure herself. Everything was going to be alright.

“I don’t think I need to tell you that,” she spoke softly as she helped him to settle back comfortably in the bed and tucking him in under the covers. He grimaced when one of her hands brushed his side, but immediately gave her a reassuring smile when he saw the way her body stiffen. If he was not in any pain, he was definitively uncomfortable. His condition was much worse than he thought it was.

“How bad is it?”

“You hit your head pretty badly, broke a couple of bones and were unconscious for a more than two days now.” She explained quickly. “Considering your history, they want to keep you a couple of days to monitor any brain injuries.”

“Just great,” he sank into his pillows. When he had thought he had seen the hospital enough for his entire lifetime, here he was again. It had taken him months to learn again to do anything by himself and he did fell as if he wasted a lot of his life in the hospital getting treatment. His whole family dynamic had shifted around him and though he liked them all very much, he had just become fed up with them all eventually. And now, it was like going back to square one and starting all over. He couldn’t let that happen.

Y/N eyed him sternly, clearly judging his attitude. Whatever lucky star he was born under, he should rather be thanking it. Not everybody would survive two major head injuries. Not everyone had a family willing to keep watch over him for two days straight…

Checking the time, Y/N realized it was already time to get back to work. She was much more relieved to go and leave him knowing he was awake, talking and had a good chance of being out of the woods. She tucked him in the bed a little more tightly, making sure he couldn’t escape the sheets before starting to leave.

“You scared the hell out of your mom,” she stated, eyeing him and his grumpy expression. “I’m going to send her an owl. You better get some sleep; they’ll be here first thing in the morning.”

“Y/N?” Fred called after her. She stopped at the door, hand on the handle, only turning her head to him. “Thank you.”

“Did my mom make you check on me?” Fred asked Y/N, who was currently checking out the shelves of their love potions. He was glad she finally decided to be an actual customer for once, but she should have chosen any other section; this one was only ever visited by fourteen-years-old teenagers.

“What? No!” She nearly shouted, face growing hot. Fred eyed her with a knowing look and a smirk, she was definitively a bad liar. “Maybe a little. But in my defence, she is a very persuasive woman.”

Fred laughed softly; that he would know. The last time he saw her – and it was less than forty-hours ago, she had made him eat two servings of her pasta gratin as, according to her own words, he was skinnier than ever. Fred was pretty sure his weight was stable, but he still happily obliged. He knew when to choose his battle now and this wasn’t one.

“You don’t have to, you know,” he spoke as he leant against the shelf, crossing his arms, as Y/N continued to pretend she was interested in those shiny purple vials. “Promise I’ll listen now when you say not to mix up stuff.”

“I bet you would,” she snorted lightly. She had seen him in the hospital in the next days after he was out of the coma, and she had seen him those last few weeks when he was obliged to rest. It hadn’t been easy, and Y/N would lie if she didn’t say she had found him so miserable every time she had visited. She knew he had learned his lesson this time. “I don’t mind anyway. Unless… you know? You do mind…”

“No!” He cried out and cleared his throat after he realized how loud – and a bit desperate – he had been. “No, I don’t mind,” he repeated again, his voice much softer this time.

“Cool, cool,” Y/N answered, not daring to meet his eyes.

“It would be hm… That would make…”

Y/N frowned as she took her eyes off the WonderWitch products shelves she was still investigating while Fred had gone to help a customer - whatever moment they just had was long gone.

She observed Fred struggled to perform a simple addition for the customer that was buying two packs of fireworks. He was stuttering and couldn’t put together a full sentence; it was clear something was wrong. And with his history, it could be very bad.

She decided to step in to help him. Fred let her push him ever so slightly on his left so she could take his place behind the counter and handle the customer as if nothing was happening.

“That would make 10 galleons, Sir,” She accepted his coins and put them in the cash register with a swift movement of her wrist just like she had seen Fred do a hundred times before. “And for the pretty lady, we’ve always got lollipops under the counter. No funny business, they are cherry flavoured. What do you say?”

The little girl gave a look at her father before accepting the lollipops Y/N was handing her. She thanked her in the cutest way and Y/N would have liked to interact with her more if she wasn’t pressed by time.

“Thank you for shopping with us, have a lovely afternoon,” she smiled at them. She watched them turn to leave and immediately reached out to Fred to lead him into the back shop. “Alright, sit down.”

She helped him sit down on his office chair before having a full look at him. His eyes were groggy, and he was as white as a sheet - at least even more so than he usually was.

“How is the head?” Y/N inquired; her infamous frown had made its way back on her forehead.

“It hurts,” he mumbled; he seemed to be ashamed of it – as if he could do anything about it.

Y/N’s mind was running through all the medical explanations.

This could be the symptom of a brain swelling, but the trauma was weeks ago so it wasn’t most likely, and they would have caught up on it already.

It could be the beginning of a stroke, a part of his brain that stopped working for no reason. His mouth didn’t warp, and he seemed to be able to move his body correctly. He was still able to speak as well and had no facial paralysis. So, she crossed that option out.

He could also just be tired, which would make sense since he was already fully back to work only weeks after he had been cleared and despites his healers order to keep it low. Magic or not, bodies still needed time to heal. “I think it’s time for a little break, yes?”

Y/N went to fetch Lee to cover for Fred. She then managed to get the redhead up the tiny stairs and to the flat he shared with his twin brother just above the shop. He crashed on his couch, eyes sleepy, and Y/N went to the kitchen to get him a glass of water and something to eat. The fridge was empty, but she managed to find some biscuits in the cupboard and make them tea.

“I don’t even know why I am surprised there is no food in this fridge,” she told him as she handed him a cup.

“Don’t even need it when everybody is showing up at my door with dinner. They are just passing by, they say. With a plate of lasagna or a pie. You folks need to start lying better than that.”

“They care about you,” Y/N spoke softly as she brought her cup to her lips.

“I would do the same if that was one of them. I know.” He sighed, passing a hand on his face. “Godric, if it was George, I wouldn’t leave him alone one second. I just wish they would leave me alone for once, you know?”

A couple of days later, Y/N found herself back to the small flat above the joke shop. She was meeting Fred and George before going to The Burrow. The whole family was gathering to celebrate the twins’ birthday and Molly had insisted for Y/N to come as well. Fred was still banned from apparating on his own and they never were too much of two to do it with him.

George and she each positioned themselves on one side of Fred. She wrapped her arms around his waist, her tote bag with their gifts well secured on her other shoulder. Fred hesitantly wrapped his own arm around her shoulders, sending her a troubled look as if he was a teenager boy seeing a girl for the first time. That was probably the closest they had ever been and even if it was nothing, it still made Fred’s heart race in his chest. Y/N interpreted this as his nervousness of apparating and gave him a warm smile before focusing to do it at George’s order.

At The Burrow she met familiar faces, all wearing a much less worry than the last time she had seen them when Fred was still in a coma at the hospital. As soon as she stepped in the house, she was caught in a whirlwind of embraces, most of them muttering in her ears small thank-you’s for looking after their brother as they hugged. Fred got the same treatment even though, from the look on his face, he was less than thrilled. It was all overwhelming so many people, in such a small place, all ever so happy to be here altogether – and especially happy for him to be with them.

After his mother released him from a good five-minutes hug, Y/N gave him a thumbs-up for support to which he rolled his eyes to answer. Thankfully, his niece and nephew were soon to beg him and George to play with them and the whole family focus turned to the children.

“Godric, would you leave me live in peace for once? I am not made of glass; I won’t break. I’m not dead. I am not dying. I am fine.”

Lunch had gone well until after the main course. Molly had gone to the kitchen to get the birthday cake she made, and Fred had insisted he’d go to help her – after all this was his birthday celebration and as always, she had done a tremendous work all by herself. One of his siblings had brought up that he should rather stay and that they would do it for him. It had been only a short sentence that had Fred literally exploded. He was up from his chair, yelling; anger had turned his face as red as a tomato.

Molly stopped on her track, a few meters from the table, cake in her hands, clearly mortified. The silence that followed his cries left everyone uncomfortable. The air was tensed. Y/N, sat at his side, tried reaching out to this arm. She wanted him to realize he had gone too far; he needed to take a step back and ease the tension a bit. But he just pushed her hand away quite harshly, directing his anger to her. “And you! Don’t you have anything better to do than try to fix and save people? I am not dying now, am I? So just find some stray orphan kittens to take care of and leave me the fuck alone.”

Y/N watched Fred storm out of the room. Her cheeks were hot from the embarrassment and her eyes were wide open from what Fred had just yelled at her. She knew it was just too much for him; the war had left its mark and his accident had just made him live it all other again. He didn’t want to be thinking about it every day. He didn’t want everybody to fear he would just disappear. He just wanted to be alive, and happy. And he wanted them to be alive and happy… and not to worry about him.

She knew why he said what he did. Yet, she couldn’t help but feel her heart stang by his words. Behind his anger, there was still a little bit of truth.

Perhaps she was also just too much; she had imposed her presence to him even though they were merely acquaintance. She had acted as if they were great friends, a friend with a medical degree that scrutinized his every little move to make sure he was alright. Perhaps, she had not given him any air to breathe, acting exactly just like every other member of his family though he had specifically voiced he didn’t want that. Perhaps she also had a saviour complex, after enduring so many patients’ loss during the war and being traumatized by it, that she just wanted to fix him because she knew she could.

“I, uh-” Y/N started, gazing around the table, “I think that’s my clue.”

“Y/N, darling…”

“That’s fine, Mrs Weasley. He needed to get this out of his chest, I guess.” She went to grab her coat by the door, as Molly and everybody else tried to stop her from leaving. She was too upset by what had happened to even bother to put her coat on, even if it was still freezing outside, despite it being already April. She was so disturbed she almost went through the door without saying goodbye, but stopped on the doorstep to turn to the table she couldn’t even see from the tears building up in her eyes. “Thank you again for the food. I’ll see you all.”

Two days after that, Y/N found Fred at her door, waiting for her to come home.

After crying all night about what happened at lunch, she had kept herself busy with a 24-hours shift. It was the first time since then she was coming home and she found him, leaned back against the corridor wall in front of her door.

She gave him a dirty look when she reached his level. She was exhausted from her shift - a shift during which everything that could go wrong actually did - and also from the very little sleep she had got in those two days after Fred’s outburst. This was the first time they were seeing each other. She hadn’t reached out to him, willing to give him space as he so needy apparently. One part of her had hoped he’d send an owl to apologize, but she didn’t get anything.

From the apologetic look on his face, he wanted to have this discussion now. Unfortunately for him, she just wasn’t in the mood, so she just ignored him and went to unlock her door. He still stepped closer and called after her.

“Look, I don’t have time for this,” she stated as she wiped her foot on the doormat.

“My heart hurts a little, can you have a look at it?”

Y/N turned to him to scan his face; she didn’t know if he was serious or not. She searched into his eyes to try and find his well-known playful sparkle. When she didn’t find any, she sighed and opened the door, instructing him to get in. Following him in, she let her coat and bags by the door and made him seat on one of her kitchen chairs.

She listened to his heart with the help of her wand, making sure to listen to multiple heartbeat sounds and see if anything was wrong. When she was done, she put her wand away, still refusing to look at him.

“So, what’s your diagnosis?”

Y/N could hear the smile in his voice; of course, there was most likely nothing wrong with him. He wouldn’t have gone to hers if he was truly believing something wasn’t right, he would have gone to the hospital. She sighed, passing a hand on her face from the frustration. “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?”

“I am sorry.” He grabbed her hand and Y/N finally looked at him. She could tell from his tight smile and the way his eyes desperately searched for hers that he was indeed sorry. “I didn’t mean anything I said back there. You never treated me like I was made of glass or like I would just breakdown any minutes. You went through your own stuff, and this was unfair of me to tell you any of those things.”

Y/N nodded slowly as a way of accepting his apology. Fred smiled, relieved she was no longer mad about him, and she smiled weakly in return.

“Does your heart really hurt?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged, a sly smile on his face. “Would you kiss it better if it did?”

#lea's writing #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fanfics #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley oneshot #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #harry potter fic #fred weasley x you

[cafecourage]

Late to the party but can I request just- spoiling the Chain with love and affection and care (including First!) because these boys deserve it

- Softie, who can't remember if this has been asked for already

I think these can combine nicely. 😊 Because all of these boys have a lot of trauma I am going to make a Hc’s to cover everything.

Time:

This man crumbles when you care for him. He is literally always the person that take's care of others so having someone care for him is new. Even if he knows your not flirting he is still receptive to it. Though Time is going to try to give back everything.

Making Time flustered is actually fairly hard. Yes, I just said he crumbles when cared for. However, he more or less soaks it in. Getting him to go all red and mushy and just flustered is extremely hard. You can pull out all the stops and he will not stray from that calm exterior. Maybe he would be blushing but its not as bad as you when he goes to fluster you.

The most nightmares that he would have are from OoT however the most comforts he needs is more from the Majora's Mask adventure.

Because most of the things he has been through was when he was a child, he probably has some sort of childhood memory lost from it. But its more of he knows what happen but the memories he would have just aren't there. It's not like he can see it in his mind eyes. Though I would imagine he would have nightmares of the future hyrule he saw in the adult timeline. That part of the adventure was more horrifying to him then the child portion of the adventure. When this happens he tends to not go back asleep unless you urge him to. He really doesn't want to wake up in a future with out those he cares about.

Time, I would think still has some anxiety towards not being able to keep track of the days. It's mainly because he did lose track of the time while in Termina and he does flinch every time when a clock tower bell chimes. Time has kept most of his masks including the ones with spirits inside, though he assumes they had moved on to the afterlife at this point as even he can sense the lack of magic. Honestly on days that he is more anxious, you would need to ground him. Hold his hand. Give him a hug. Quiet reassurance.

Twilight:

Twilight's suffering comes from abandonment. I am just gonna call him out. He might have a body horror fear, aiming on himself as transforming into a wolf is disgusting and painful.

Honestly even though it hurts he will still become Wolfie to feel some comfort from the other boys. Just as much as he goes wolf to help the others with comfort. Twilight isn't one to ask for physical affection mainly because he was used to just receiving it

What he wants for affection is hugs and kisses. He needs that reassurance that everything is going to be ok. That your not going to leave him as well, also that everything is going to be ok. He really just needs the love and attention.

Twilight's second worse fear is that he will be left alone for the rest of his life. He has abandonment issues which mixing with his wolf protection instincts is just a complete mess of emotions. Just sit his butt down when he gets overbearing a hug him. From that moment on just ban Twilight from moving. If he needs to walk he is gonna have to carry you.

Sometimes you would also need to drag Twilight away to a more quiet location. Being turned into an animal also heightens your senses. We both know the boys are loud. So if its pampering time. You two wont be seen for hours :D

Warriors:

Warriors will rather die then let his demons be known. Which is really good that you know about his adventure! But seriously, Link hates his weakness showing even in private. The man has bad anxiety, he consistently feels like he is being watched. It's not just because of Cia, but knowing that she was always watching him the whole time didn't help, he also had to deal with traitors.

That being said Warriors is another Link that needs the silent affection and comfort. He might twist it on you. That just so he can twist what it looks like to other people. He will 100% take advantage of 'comforting you' to comfort himself as well. Don't point it out, don't even mention it. He will stop and get defensive.

That being said if he is hurt, then call him out on it. Warriors is more willing to be comforted because he is already hurt. He loves his hair being played with, its an instant relaxer for him when he isn't on high high alert. For example, at bed time he is out like a light, but if you play with his hair while walking through town he will tease you.

Warriors is going to need reassurance from time to time. He doesn't think anyone in the chain is going to betray him. But his brain just tells him to always be on edge just incase of an attack. I think when you get to know him better you would be able to notice it. In case of this emergency. There isn't much you can do, other then hold his hand through it. Distracting him wont do much but when he focus's on you he feels a bit better.

All this to say he doesn't get much sleep. He actually is a nightmare when it comes to nightshifts and wont wake people up because he is to anxious to not be awake and on watch. You might just have to throw him down on the bedroll and lay on top of him.

First:

First is hard to read. No matter how long you've known him. It's hard to know if he is ok. You just know that sometimes First comes up to you, hug you and not say anything. You can be in full conversation with someone and he just hugs you from behind. Face in your hair as he takes in your present.

He really doesn't want you to disappear on him. First lost a lot of people then almost lost his life. So let him just seek you out when he is feeling a bit... out of body.

First in general wont tell you what's the matter with him because he doesn't know what's wrong half the time. I image first is a bit no brain cell type. So like when there is a out of body moment it just confusion. Also it doesn't happen to often.

If he does look bothered by something or maybe a bit more out of it then normal. Hugging typically works. Kissing works as well. But he adores hugs and will pick you up so he could cuddle.

Either way you want to spoil first? Cuddle or hugs. Just make sure your touching him that's all he wants. Adores it even.

#twilight (not lu) speaks #linked universe x reader #linkeduniverse x reader #luxreader #monkey bread #coffee #caramel macchiato #pumpkin bread #honey cakes

[totallyunidentified]

Friendly Fire

This is the longest thing I've written yet.

I started this right after episode 14 came out early Wednesday morning.

Enjoy my little Echo ficlet/Prophecy

HEAVY SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 14 OF TBB SEASON 3

When they finally make it inside Tantiss, Crosshair's hand is shaking worse than ever. He had tried everything he could to not return only for his worst nightmare to happen. He’s back and Omega was there because of him. Because of his misfire. He had hoped that he wouldn't have had to even talk about Tantiss again but here he is. They run through corridor after corridor simply taking out whatever stormtroopers they come across, they can’t afford anything going wrong. 

“We have to find Echo!” Crosshair calls to Hunter and Wrecker as they keep up their search. They had gone completely com silent so they have no idea where the reg could be. 

Emeri had led Echo to the vault. Despite her warning him, he’s shocked at the conditions the children are being held in. 

They walk in together and another female doctor walks up to Emeri looking at her with thinly veiled disdain 

“Doctor Karr you are aware that stormtroopers aren't allowed in the vault with the specimens. I shall have to report this to Dr. Hem-,” 

Before she can finish her sentence Echo is astounded when Emeri pulls her arm back and knocks out the other doctor in one hit. 

“I guess you really are a clone!” He comments as she uses the incapacitated doctor’s datapad to turn off all the security measures. 

Omega, seeing Emeri take action, immediately jumps on top of the medical droid and reprograms it telling it to shut down. She then jumps off and rejoins the other children moving to stand between them and the man in a stormtrooper uniform in front of her. 

Echo sees Omega standing in front of four other children as if she's guarding them. She’s watching him suspiciously and he realizes he’s forgotten to take off his helmet. 

“Echo!” Omega almost sobs before throwing herself in his arms. When he wraps his arms around her, Omega notices he has two hands holding her. When he lets go she grabs his robotic hand and twists and turns it trying to get a better look at it.

“This is new,” Omega comments and starts to ask but Echo just shrugs. 

“It grew back on its own,” Echo says with a straight face making Omega arch her eyebrow at him. 

“Suuuure” Omega says, rolling her eyes and grinning at him. She turns to Emeri,

 “So you finally decided you wanted to help us?” 

Emeri looks down at the floor frowning and then back up at Omega

 “I- I am a clone like you. I realize my actions have been counter to what I should have been doing, but I swear I’m ready to do better” Omega smiles at her and gives her a quick hug, shocking Emeri

 “I have…never gotten one of those before.”

“Better get used to it” Echo quips, turning to the rest of the kids in the vault. 

“…Hello. Are you guys ready to get out of here?” 

The kids look at each other and nod apprehensively. The Pantoran girl holding the baby moves closer behind the green boy, hiding. 

“We’re just kids, how are we supposed to help get us out?” she asks in a quiet voice. She's scared, they all are. Echo can see clearly. He remembers a similar situation on Kamino; while these kids weren’t soldiers, they still had something about them. Echo just had to make them see that.

Echo kneels down to see eye to eye with the kids.

“You guys are here because there’s something special about you right? Even the Imps could see it. They needed you for a reason, just like right now I need you to be brave. I need you to have courage. Be strong. You have the hearts of clones and the strength of the Jedi. Whatever it is that makes you special was in their blood and is in your blood. It’s in Omega’s blood, which I'd say is close enough to make you honorary clones. You aren’t some helpless children, you are strong and have heart! Now we need to get out of here!”

Echo starts to herd all of the kids plus Emeri to the doorway to get them out of there. 

“Wait!” Omega stops Echo. “I know a way we can get out of here. I have a distraction planned.” 

”Do you?” 

“Uh huh. The Zillo beast that they have in one of the containment areas, we can free it and let that distract the rest of the base.”

Echo just stands there for a moment and grins “You know, you remind me so much of someone that it almost scares me. He came up with these hair-brained schemes all the time too”

Omega stands up just a little straighter. “He sounds like fun”

“He was.” 

Echo turns to Emeri “You take the kids to the hangar and wait for us there.”

“Ok I’ll try. Come along, we have to hurry!” 

They run out of the vault together before Emeri points Echo and Omega in the right direction to go before urging the children to walk faster in the other direction.

As they run to the Zillo beast enclosure, Omega can't help but ask,”Where are the others?” She fears the worst but is relieved when Echo slows, “They are here…somewhere. We've gone com silent since we got here,” Omega nods at this, understanding the need to be untraceable. They fall into silence as they run through hallway after hallway with no interruptions. 

“After this…I want to be done. I want to find somewhere even more remote than Pabu and just stay there. Maybe we can find wherever Cut and Suu went! You and Rex can even join us. I'm sure Hunter wouldn’t mind,” Omega says to break the silence.

“...Omega, We-” 

“You have your mission, I know. I just want us to all be together again.” 

“Rex and I won't be done until all our brothers are free. If I'm honest even after that I don't know if I'll stop fighting for what I feel is right. There are the makings of a larger rebellion against the Empire, maybe I'll join them. I’m a soldier, ’Mega, it’s what I’m made for.”

“Yeah, but…” 

“Listen, after we get you out of here we can talk more about it but we need to find the beast and your brothers first.” 

Crosshair, Hunter, and Wrecker knew that they needed to find Omega then Echo, and fast. They run through the hallways and corridors turning corners and shooting the stormtroopers with barely a second glance. “Nothing from Echo?” Crosshair asks yet again. “Nothing!” Hunter answers as the men keep running, finding fewer troopers as they get deeper into Tantiss. Echo guides Omega through the halls keeping his new hand on her shoulder, his real hand holding his blaster. 

Crosshair is starting to panic. Omega is nowhere to be found and Echo hasn't checked in yet. He must have gotten off the ship and be somewhere in the facility. 

Omega and Echo are running towards a corner.

Crosshair comes to a T in the hallway 

They turn the corner. 

Crosshair sees a stormtrooper with a blaster in one hand and Omega grasped by the shoulder in the other.

Crosshair acts on instinct and doeswhat he had been doing the whole time they were running through Tantiss. 

His sister is in danger again. This time he wouldn’t fail her. 

His aim is sure and his hand steady as he immediately raises his rifle. 

The stormtrooper raises his hands as if to try and stop him but Crosshair has had enough, he briefly notices the strange stiffness of the trooper’s right hand but his mind is moving too fast to stop on that thought. 

He just wants to get Omega, find Echo, and get back to Pabu

He wants to leave Tantiss and blow the place to the Maker.

All these thoughts run through his head in a split second. 

Crosshair does what he does best: he shoots.

And this time. He doesn’t miss.

Hitting Echo in the chest. Directly over his heart. 

Crosshair watches the stormtrooper collapse. 

Omega screams and pushes Crosshair away when he runs to grab her.

He doesn't understand.

Until she takes off the stormtrooper’s helmet.

Crosshair can only watch in horror as Echo’s face is revealed. Somehow he is even paler than before. He lies on the ground and Omega puts her hand over his wound desperately trying to help.

All three clones rip their helmets off, dropping them to the ground. 

When Crosshair tries to step forward to try to help, Omega yells at him to just stay back. She sits on the ground beside Echo, he’s practically in her lap

Just this once Crosshair wishes that his hands had shaken.

The one time he wished he could have…Crosshair didn’t miss.

Echo knows he isn't going to make it. 

He can’t help but chuckle to himself over the way that this had occurred. It sounded all too familiar to what Rex had told him so long ago on Anaxes after he had been brought back. 

Rex walks into the room where Echo is getting a final look over by Kix and the other medics. Echo looks up at his captain, his brother. “Finally decided to tell me huh?” Rex can only nod and raises his hand to the back of his neck, his nerves all over the place. “Echo listen, I-,” Echo puts his hand up stopping him. “I know. You can tell me how but it won’t make a difference. He’s gone. He would've been here if he wasn’t. Just, just tell me he went down fighting,” Rex grimaces and brings his hand down putting it on his shoulder. He makes eye contact with Kix who moves to clear everyone else out of the room before leaving himself. “You know Fives, was there any other way?” Rex and Echo chuckle remembering Fives’ personality. “Tell me Rex…” Echo says seriously after a moment. Rex sighs but moves to sit next to Echo on the bed. “In the end…Fives didn’t die on the battlefield. I’m sorry Echo, but he was killed by a brother. By Fox. At the time we had no idea about the chips, but somehow Fives found out. We- I didn't believe him, I was there when it happened and he- well he died in my arms,” Rex says this without looking at Echo. When he finally does he sees Echo’s face not filled with anger as he suspected, but with sorrow? Even a bit of pity. “It isn't your fault Rex. You had no way of knowing, not even the Jedi knew and they were supposed to know everything.” Rex had looked at him and nodded. Echo had wanted to say more but couldn't, internally reeling about how Fives had been killed by a brother, and how he had died assuming he was the last domino to fall. 

Returning to the present, Echo’s eyes focus back on Omega and her hand on his chest. Once again reminding him of another blond clone who had left their handprint on his chest. 

Echo’s eyes move across the room and land on Crosshair, who can’t even look at him. “Hey Cross… I’d say that intel earned your hug.” And suddenly all the men are surrounding Echo and Omega. Crosshair has his hand on Echo’s scomp. He leans over and puts his forehead to Echo’s and whispers “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be, I would've done the same thing,” Echo says firmly and hopes that Crosshair believes him.

Crosshair can’t look at Echo as he stands up and turns away from him, wiping his hand across his eyes. Erasing the tears that Crosshair would refuse to say came. Hunter and Wrecker can’t even say anything. It’s Eriadu all over again. This time they are in a medical facility without their medic, and they can’t do anything to save Echo. Both take their turn to say goodbye and to put their own foreheads to Echo’s as the tears stream down both their faces. They’d gotten so used to crying around each other they barely even noticed it anymore. Unlike Crosshair who was still hiding his face.

Omega looks up just above where Echo is lying. Tears streaming down her face she swears she feels a familiar presence, one she had felt years ago as a young child back on Kamino. She looks back down at Echo who is looking at the same spot, a slight smile on his face. 

“Took you long enough you Di’kut,” Echo chuckles wincing. “You know, Fives, I never thought I'd be the last Domino to fall. Can’t say I’m glad for it.” 

Omega is the only one to hear this. Her other brothers stay back knowing that there is nothing they can do. She looks at them, scared, “Who is Fives?” The men all freeze. They all feel their stomachs drop. She looks back down towards Echo who is already watching her. The rise and fall of his chest is slowing. “Vod’ika, I-I’m… I don't want to go but, My brothers, they’re here. Fives, Rose, Hevy, Cutup, Droidbait, 99... They say I can march with them.” Echo’s eyes are glistening, unfocused. He wants to go with them but he has so much to do here. Omega can see his struggle and pushes her feelings away. 

“It’s ok Echo. You are done fighting, you can march with them.  We will be ok.” Omega’s eyes are full of tears but she doesn’t let them fall. She lays her head on Echo’s chest holding his hand in one of hers and putting the other hand on his chestplate. Feeling as his breaths grow shallow, his heartbeat slows and eventually fades away. Echo’s hand slowly lets go of Omega’s but grabs onto his twin’s. Echo barely notices the lack of metal weighing him down as Fives helps him up, grinning as he pulls Echo into a hug before he turns and leads Echo away with an arm around his neck. 

Omega looks up at Echo’s face. She doesn't think she ever saw him look this peaceful before.

The final domino. Fallen. But rising to join his brothers as they march on to forever.

#the bad batch #star wars #bad batch #the bad batch season 3 #tbb spoilers #tbb #tbb season three #tbb season 3 spoilers #tbb tech #tbb echo #arc trooper echo

[mariacallous]

The end of TikTok has begun. As the dust settles from a week of shockingly fast legislative action by the US Congress, it’s clear that TikTok next year will look much different from the TikTok we’re using today.

When President Joe Biden signed a $95 billion dollar foreign aid package on Wednesday, it brought to life a nightmare that has haunted TikTok for more than four years. If TikTok’s Chinese owner, ByteDance, refuses to divest its stakes in the company, the United States will ban the app nationwide. The signing started the clock, giving TikTok 270 days to find a new owner. (As The Washington Post’s Cristiano Lima-Strong noted, TikTok’s time will run out the day before Inauguration Day 2025.)

There are a few ways this could all shake out. An American company or private equity fund could buy TikTok and its powerful recommendation algorithm. Or, a buyer might have to accept just the bones of the platform without that algorithmic muscle; The Information reported on Thursday that ByteDance has already started gaming out what a sale without the algorithm would look like. Or, perhaps no buyer can be found and TikTok goes poof.

Unless TikTok or a horde of its users were to somehow win a lawsuit challenging the law signed this week—a lawsuit the company has already said it plans to file—all the potential outcomes lead to an app that is dramatically different.

If a US tech company were to, miraculously, buy out the app and algorithm from ByteDance, it’ll likely integrate the app into its own products and services. But I doubt we’ll ever see a “TikTok by Meta.” Meta and other tech giants have come under intense antitrust scrutiny in recent years. If any company with a big social platform were to gobble up one of its top competitors, that would set off alarms at the Department of Justice or Federal Trade Commission.

Microsoft has suggested that it has an interest in buying TikTok, and it might be one of the app’s only viable choices for a buyer. Microsoft’s biggest subsidiary otherwise is, well, LinkedIn—and can we even call LinkedIn a TikTok rival with a straight face?

Separately, if, say, a private equity firm like Blackstone were to purchase TikTok without its much-envied algorithm, rebuilding the heart of the app could be difficult. A company without a deep bench of algorithmic wizards on hand likely wouldn’t have the expertise to quickly reengineer a feed-based social media platform from scratch. If they tried, I doubt the results would be pretty.

And if there’s no new owner? Well, I guess we’re left with YouTube Shorts and Instagram Reels. TikTok’s popularity in the US forced Google and Meta to invest in vertical video, but those platforms mostly cater to the younger “Skibidi Toilet” generation. They wouldn’t easily fill a TikTok-shaped gap on the US internet.

Still, the law passed this week may not stand for much longer. In a statement calling it unconstitutional, TikTok seemed confident that the law could be overturned. “We believe the facts and the law are clearly on our side, and we will ultimately prevail,” a TikTok spokesperson said on Wednesday. The company used a similar argument last year to win an injunction blocking a ban passed in Montana.

Regardless of how this lawsuit plays out, TikTok will be different. The question is just what kind of “different” that will be.

[poetryandfluffycats]

Dances and Daydreams

A/N: this is turning into a bsd blog😭 this oneshot is a part of this kidnapper nikolai au ive got going on (Quiz time! being the first oneshot) but its not like you have to read them in order or anything

Pairing: Kidnapper!NIkolai Gogol x fem!reader

Content: Nikolai asks you to dance, and daydreams fill your mind

Warnings: kidnapping, mentions of torture

Words: 522

Oneshot under cut!

Another day, another torture session.

Not real torture, anyway. Not the kind you hear about on the news, the kind that makes you say "what's happened to the world?" and then move on with your day. No, Nikolais idea of torture was something else entirely, something I wasn't sure how to put into words

"May I have this dance?" He held out a gloved hand to me, the other tucked neatly behind his back. A cheeky grin was plastered on his face, his sharpened teeth geaming in the dim light of the basement. It was a look I saw regularly, one he gave often since we started this game of house.

Rules were simple: Play the role of the perfect girlfriend, as perfect you can be whilst stuck in this basement, and he won't kill you. It was a promise, sealed with a pinky swear and a sloppy kiss to my forehead.

"Of course, Kolya" I tired my best to smile, although it probably came out looking like a grimace. The nickname Nikolai made me call him felt sticky in the mouth, like when you eat too much cotton candy and it gets stuck to the roof of your mouth.

Cotton candy... that would be nice right now.

I placed my hand in his, allowing him to pull me off the bed and into his arms. The hand not holding mine traveled down my back, resting on my waist and gripping my gown tight. My own hand moved up to his shoulder, squeezing slightly. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it certainly wasn't comfortable, either.

We began moving, swaying side to side as Nikolai hummed a tune I didn't recognize. The rhythm was a slow one, something you'd hear at a high school prom, or a wedding. I tired to imagine us somewhere else, anywhere but this shitty basement. On the dancefloor at our wedding, him looking his best in a fancy tux, I imagined it being white, and me in a pretty dress, like the one I had been eying up at the boutique near my work. It would be a beautiful day, a little girls daydream.

My nightmare.

The fantasy shattered in my mind. The image of Nikolai in a ironed suit, hair neat and tied back, eyes not covered by layers upon layers of facepaint quickly turned into him now. His hair was a fizzy mess in his braid, his jester get-up torn and covered in who-knows what, his cakey makeup that still failed to hide the deep bags under his eyes. The wedding venue morphed into the basement, the bright lights transformed into the flickering of the single candle in the corner, my big, poofy dress was back to the lifeless gown I wore.

This wasn't a wedding, it wasn't a fairytale.

It might as well have been my funeral.

"Dove? Everything okay?" Nikolai suddenly stopped in his tracks, using a hand to tilt my chin up.

I had started crying, god I was stupid. Crying over a wedding that didn't happen, a man I would never love. Crying over a psychopath.

"Yeah, I'm alright. Let's keep dancing"

#oneshot #yandere bsd #bsd #bsd x reader #bsd nikolai #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere bungo stray dogs #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere nikolai gogol #nikolai gogol x reader #nikolai x reader #nikolai gogol #decay of angels

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24Leaders #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental justice #environment protection #environmental health #Youtube

[waxscentedcandles]

Alligator-porcupine-chimpanzee hybrid.

Is it called an Alligorcupanzee or a Chimgatorcupine or a Porcupanzetor

#its called a nightmare is what its called #its called an apex animal thats for sure. probably omnivorous in potentia but leaning toward carnivore without a doubt #i imagine theyre semi-aquatic and semi-arboreal . be able to blend in with trees and driftwood well. their spines might be part articulated #spines can lay flush when swimming or splay out when posturing or posing as an inanimate object. maybe they could ruffle their quills. #long half mammal half reptile skull studded with seratted rasping nubs and long sharp grasping teeth. long sandpapery tongue that grasps #furred and scaled in patches and tufts. like an armadillo or some larger porcupines. larger plates and scoots. and long nails #probabky often covered in moss and/or slow growing plant and fungal life present in their area. it would help their camoflague #i need to draw one

[densewentz]

more dreamling dad au bc thats just what i do now apparently i like lazy afternoon naps and so do our boys

#dreamling #hob gadling #dream of the endless #morpheus #the sandman netflix #sandman fanart #a few people have asked me what the babs name is #ive been calling him Kian #and he gets jealous of Nightmare and wants to be scary too sometimes so his dad made him that horrific onesie #to kian's exact specifications thank u #my art #its important to me that people know kians got dreams dark hair and flair for dramatics but #hes also got hobs big dumb sunshine brown calf eyes that he flashes to get his way bc he also has hobs effortless charm #i also headcanon as he gets older he secrets handfuls of sand into his pockets from EVERYWHERE bc he wants to be like his dad #and hob has to be the sand police and has to make kian turn out his pockets on the doorstep every time they come home from anywhere #bc theres only so much vaccuuming even an immortal man can take #and kian does so but petulantly and while sporting dreams patented Imperious Pissy Face #they have a rule that kian is allowed to stomp as loudly as he wants to his room but isnt allowed to slam doors #in this essay i will-

[tkachukisms]

my mind is a beautiful place full of love | last post :)

#in order of appearance: #mitch marner #jamie drysdale #trevor zegras #quinn hughes #connor mcdavid #leon draisaitl #sam bennett #matthew tkachuk #matt rempe #jack eichel #jake oettinger #devin cooley #nhl #aaannddd as per usual here: #drygras #mcdrai #whatever the fuck jack and connor are called #mattdrai #hockey textposts #shouldve def been tagging that before for muting purposes oops apologies hkyblr #kiers.txt #its so funny how long these take me. i consider every one so heavily. ive had the bamboo posts saved for so long for this #i dont even give a shit about trevor zegras man. i just knew what i had to do #ANYWAY! PLAYOFFS START DAY! WHOOOO UP! #wish i could get high in honor. sadly i live in a nightmare #i could elaborate about the fucked up driving posts i will keep giving leon. but i don't think i will #context is for me. And my wonderful mind

[happi-dreams]

Uhh silly au go woo!!!

Basic idea : catnap but he’s now a little magical dream being that can go into the critters dreams and help them out when they’re having nightmares and such (like princess luna but with cinderella’s grandmother aesthetics)

( lil comic under the cut!! :D )

#they’re very silly to me #catnap #dogday #art #smiling critters au #idk what to call this au yett #but i think its neat #all of the crittters wear jammies and they just sorta vibe #with catnap just kinda being a sorta mystery to them #oh yeah lil funfact bout him #his lil moon pendant glows whenever a critter is having a nightmare #and his little smoke trail thing is all red n stuff ish #this au is just mostly fluff stuff

[graye]

DAY 2: Romance

Consistency??? Sorry I've never met her, she sounds nice @owl-bones

#badsansuary #horrortale #horrortale sans #undertale fanart #undertale au #self insert #self ship #x reader #y/n #sorry for the redacted those are spoilers for the fic I'm working on (ir's gonna take me 3848374 years to finish it) #why does he look so different to the literal first post I have of him? None of your business- *sweats* #uhh click for better quality???? tumblr you never was this fickle with photo quality what happened babygirl #once again #sorry for the doodle #it's all i could muster #rendering this looks like a nightmare #hes so baby girl i need him (delusional) #btw this uses a different brush bc I drew this first and i had no idea how to use the program i'm using rn #Graye Draws #program is called krita btw its free and for PC #looks like photoshop #ok ill shut up now