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queenofbaws · 20 days

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Hacketteers but what if we threw them into dragon riding school? 👀

catch me catching up on some not-quite-six sentence sat(or)sunday!

The day had been overcast from the start, heavy grey clouds obscuring the sun, but as the creature's great wings beat at the air, even nature itself took notice. Thin shafts of light, almost angelic in their radiance, shot down from between the rifts torn in the gathering storm. The world seemed to shake - or maybe just shiver - as it landed on the rocky shore, a mountain made of oil slicks, its scales shining sometimes black, sometimes green, sometimes colors none of them had names for.

Slowly, tentatively, the first of the students held his hand out, feeling an instantaneous bond as the dragon's molten eyes met his. It was in that moment, as though through telepathy, he knew its name:

"Brandomere Asskickeous VII."

***

"Jacob, you said you were going to take this seriously."

Immediately on the defensive, his hands shot up. He cast quick, friendly glances around the picnic table, meeting the other counselors' exasperated eyes with a grin with maybe just a touch too much mischief to come across as earnest. "I am! I am taking this seriously! Look man, you said we got to make our own characters, right? And I wanted to make sure my dragon was the one with the coolest, strongest name - everyone knows that's how this make-it-up crap works."

"Your idea of the coolest, strongest name for a dragon was Brandon Asskickeous?" Dylan set his chin on his hand, narrowing his eyes as he watched Jacob from across the table. "You should be studied, man. In a lab. Like, with a microscope or something."

"First of all," he cut back in, pointing with his pointer finger like some kind of pointy poindexter before someone laughed a little too loud and he decided a different finger was in order. "It was Brandomere Asskickeous the seventh, he's part of a long line of incredibly strong, incredibly powerful dragon wizards - "

From where he'd put his head down on the table, his arms wrapped around himself, Ryan groaned, "That's not a thing."

" - and second of all, I'm not sitting here judging your dragon names, so maybe, uh, what's the word I'm looking for here...oh, right, shut the hell up."

Scooching down lower in her seat, Abi gave Ryan a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "Um, I'm not saying this to rub it in or anything, but...we did sort of say something like this would happen."

"Hey, are we gonna keep going or not?" Nick asked, his character sheet already a mess of doodles, scribbles, and hash marks. "Don't get me wrong, it's gonna be hard to top Jacob's dragon, but...I think mine might just take the cake."

"It's not a competition!" Rising up from his defeated slouch, Ryan cast an exhausted look out at their little gathering. Why had he thought this was going to be a good idea? Of all the bonding activities he could've come up with, why had a tabletop game been the choice he'd gone with? Genuinely, he couldn't remember. "The point of the game is to, y'know. Explore new worlds. Interact with cool characters. Solve puzzles. No one's dragon gets to automatically be the strongest - no matter what its name is."

Already Jacob and Nick were opening their mouths, no doubt to pick up where they'd left off, but Emma beat them to the punch. "Well I for one can't wait for you guys to meet my dragon, Daisybelle, so all in favor of us getting back to Ryan's masterful storytelling, say aye!"

Much to Jacob's chagrin, the ayes had it.

***

The air filled with a thick, oppressive heat as another dragon joined the first, immediately causing the gathered students to fan themselves as they sweat. Everywhere they looked, there was only the wavering lines of heat mirage, and the warning sizzle of raindrops not allowed to reach the ground.

At first, no one moved - no one thought they could. Such a presence would burn them alive, char them to a crisp if they ventured too close. But then, cautious but determined, a girl stepped forward and the heat dissipated like fever breaking. She set her hand on the dragon's amber snout, and again, its name formed in her mind.

"Trogdor the Burninator."

***

"KAITLYN!" The table erupted into chaos as Ryan threw his arms into the air, and while there were decidedly more groans than laughs, it sure didn't feel like any of them were on his side.

"What?" she asked, assuming the same defensive posture Jacob had before, her hands raised, her shoulders high, her face slack with fake innocence. "I thought it was a solid choice!"

Covering her mouth and nose to hide some of her snort-laughing, Emma fell against Abi's side. "What kind of name is that?!"

"Hey now, I'll have you know Trogdor is pretty much the name when it comes to dragons, okay? It's basically historical."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, see, I can tell you guys aren't dragon experts like me and Jake, so I'll let you in on the secret." Kaitlyn folded her arms on the table, then leaned in closer, widening her eyes dramatically. "Trogdor was a man. Well, he was a dragon man. ...or you know what? Maybe he was just a dragon. But he was still - "

And then, not just to Ryan's surprise but everyone's, she and Jacob popped up from their seats, whipping out what might've been fairly impressive air-guitar solos had they not been accompanied by them both shouting "TROGDOOOR!" at the top of their lungs.

Ryan put his head back on the table. He tried desperately to continue his narration.

***

Then there came a rumbling from the sea, as though some kind of -

***

"This seems like a bad time to reveal that my whole thing was going to be, like, a super edgelord version of Barney, huh?"

"Dylan. Barney's a dinosaur."

"Uh, okay, Abigail, what do you think dragons are?"

"They're...they're not dinosaurs! I...wait, are they?"

Knowing this was a battle he'd already lost, Ryan propped his head up on his hands. "Anyone else have a super hilarious dragon idea they can't wait to share?"

There was a beat of silence, and then Nick smiled sheepishly. "Uh...Toothless? From...y'know...How to Train Your Dragon?"

After another beat, Abi pulled her sketchbook up from off her lap, turning it around to reveal a startlingly gorgeous sketch of a stylized...

Wait.

"Um...mine's also...Toothless. Actually."

Emma clasped her hands together, leaning that much farther into Abi. "Oh my gosssh, you guys are so in-sync! Imagine that. Huh. You're like, dragon soulmates or something."

***

Once every student had their dragon, it came time for them to take to the skies. Only some of them, they had been warned, would survive this trial, and -

***

"Hey, uh, pardon me for party pooping, but...what is it exactly that you kids are doing right now? In the middle of the night? Besides eating...all of the trail mix, that is?"

There was a chorus of "Hi Mr. H!"es (and more than a few muffled giggles) as Chris came out of his office to stand by their table, arms folded and expression perplexed. No one rushed to answer him, though, which...well, that just figured, didn't it?

"We're playing a game," Abi said quickly upon realizing no one else was stepping forward. "Sorry if we were being loud."

"Trying to," Ryan corrected her, "we were trying to play a game. A TTRPG."

"Uh. Huh. Well NGL that sounds like a BFG, but FYI and JSYK, you guys GTG. To bed. It's late, and the last thing I need is you guys being all groggy-eyed for the scavenger hunt tomorrow. So quit ROFLing and GTFO, you know?" Clearly proud of himself, Chris gave a little chuckle.

"Sorry Ryan," Abi said, tucking her sketchbook back into her bag. "Maybe we'll actually, um, get to the dragon riding part next time!"

"Whoa, whoa, wait, there are dragons in your game?" Chris asked. "You mean like Trogdor?"

"Yeahhh!" Kaitlyn and Jacob cheered, giving each other a victorious high-five before cutting Chris in on that action.

There was no sugarcoating it. Ryan was devastated. "There's no way Trogdor the Burninator is a thing. There's no way it's a real thing."

"Hey, bud," Chris said, still grinning, "IYKYK. Now seriously, everybody, bed. Now."

((incredibly desperate author's note from an elderly millenial: please tell me you whippersnappers out there know trogdor omg))

#jeyfeather1234 #six sentence weekend #the quarry #queenie writes supermassive #waaaaaghhhhh im sorry this took so long and BOY i think this is maybe a reference to fourth wing??? but i havent read it D:#so i hope this tickles your fancy despite my lack of dragon school knowledge hehehehehehe and thank you so much for your patience!!! <3

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samsexualdeancurious · 4 months

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The Sight of Stars (Makes Me Want to Dream)

Pairing: Technically none but I'm calling Sam x Castiel cos I wrote it and therefore I can 😤

Words: 1,027

Summary: Castiel returns from a year-long journey into the depths of Hell with precious cargo in tow.

Warnings: The Cage, mentions of torture

A/N: This is just a lil something expanding on an idea @wendibird had, also betaed by her 🥰️ This isn't very Christmas-y but I love it and Sam coming back from the dead is always a gift

---

Castiel’s wings burn with each upward push but he doesn’t slow down. He did not come this far, spend this long wandering the depths of Hell, only to fail when he finally has what he came for cradled against his chest.

His true form burns bright in the darkness of Hell and he knows it draws attention. He roars with his lion head even as his gazelle head swivels, noting the dark eyes peering at him from the shadows and darker forms lunge at him. Their screeches fill the air. Their claws leave Grace-bright marks on his body and tear feathers from his wings but he pushes on. His blade flashes around him and Demons fall away, vanishing into the depths of the Pit below.

Faintly, he thinks he can hear Lucifer screaming.

Castiel seems to fly forever and yet for no time at all, the strangeness of Hell twisted around him. A sliver of doubt is creeping into the corner of his mind when he sees it at last - a light, just a glimmer, that belongs in this darkness just as much as he does. Demons reach out, desperate to keep him. Fire licks and catches on his feathers. Castiel pushes himself farther, faster. Just a little more. Almost there -

Cool night air washes over his face as he slots back into the Earthly plane and the vessel he left waiting for him. He feels the gate of Hell close behind him as his knees buckle and Castiel tumbles into the grass, Sam Winchester still cradled in his arms.

Sam wakes with cool air in his lungs, grass beneath his body, and a vast expanse of stars above him.

He blinks up at the stars. Lucifer has made illusions with stars, of course, but never so many and besides, they always felt… wrong. Like a sky much younger than the one Sam is accustomed to. The one he’s looking at right now.

He breathes deeply and tastes sweet night air. Fresh, in a way not even Lucifer has proven himself capable of so far. Perhaps the Devil is improving. Perhaps Michael has a hand in this, though Sam strongly doubts that. The two are united in their hatred of him and that alone but Michael has never participated in Lucifer's games before.

A breeze stirs his hair and Sam soaks it in. He wants to enjoy every moment of this new trick while it remains peaceful.

"Sam."

Hm. That's a new one. Dean, Lucifer has conjured plenty of times. Enough that Sam almost feels immune. Almost. But Castiel? Never. Lucifer really is upping his game, then.

"Samuel."

Sam doesn't look. Being ignored will just piss Lucifer off but Sam wants to look at the stars and pretend he doesn't hurt to his very core.

His head is pillowed on an arm, he realizes. It moves now. Adjusts. Then a hand presses against his forehead and Grace washes through him.

Sam gasps, and his spine arches off the grass as panic rises in his chest and threatens to swallow him whole. But this Grace… it tastes different, on the back of his tongue. Unfamiliar and yet, very familiar. Not ice and fear. Not ash and flame. This is sweet. A warm spring rain, cleansing and gentle right down to his soul. He knows intrinsically that there are things wrong with him that not even an Angel can heal but the relief still leaves him breathless.

Castiel.

Sam looks, finally, and finds blue eyes watching him with concern. They soften when they meet his.

"There you are," Castiel murmurs.

Sam's gaze shifts beyond him at a movement over Cas’s shoulder and his brow furrows. Huge wings rise up from Castiel’s back. Tattered and charred, smoke rising from the feathers still, and still beautiful in a way that is beyond this plane of existence. The feathers are inky black and seem to mirror the stars above them. They flutter and one curves over Sam, like Cas is trying to protect him. When Sam blinks, though, all he sees is the stillness of the night sky.

"Castiel," Sam whispers, turning his gaze back to his friend’s face and God, his voice feels like it hasn't been used in at least a year. "Cas."

"Hello, Sam. It's good to see you."

Confusion and wonder war in Sam's head as he tries to work through what is going on. "How…? Where…?"

"We're in Stull Cemetery," Cas says softly. "Exactly one year from your leap into the Cage."

Sam blinks. "I'm not…?"

"In the Cage? Not anymore. You're safe now. Lucifer cannot touch you again."

The sob that tears itself from Sam's throat is raw and primal. He’s not sure he believes, not yet, but he wants to. He wants nothing more than to be so certain of his own safety. Of his family’s safety.

His brother. Where is his brother? The last thing Sam remembers of Dean is him with a face swollen from Sam’s own fists, kneeling on the grass by the car. Is he here still? How long has it been?

Sam tries to sit up but Cas holds him down. His hand flies up to grip the angel’s wrist. "Dean…?"

"Safe,” Cas assures him. “He was with Bobby last I saw. Though, that was a year ago.”

“A year?” Sam gasps.

“The Cage is deep in Hell. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

Cas looks ashamed of himself, even though he fucking saved Sam. Saved him. He’s still processing that one. The warm press of Cas’s hand against his chest helps, skin on skin. A small corner of his mind realizes he’s naked but somehow it’s not important. He’s alive. He’s not in the Cage. It still feels impossible.

“Cas,” he says softly. “Pinch me?”

Cas’s brow furrows but he obediently pinches a spot next to Sam’s tattoo.

“Ow,” Sam hisses, batting his hand away. “Fuck. This is. Fuck.” He lets his head fall back against Cas’s arm. “I’m really out?”

“Yes, Sam.”

Sam manages a small smile, allowing that little spark of hope in his chest to grow. “Thanks, Cas.”

Cas returns the smile. “Happy to help.”

---

Like this fic? Support me longterm on Patreon HERE or make a one-time donation on Ko-Fi HERE.

—

Team Forever: @mrswhozeewhatsis @manawhaat @books-and-icecream @laughing-at-the-darkness @tumbler-tidbits @emoryhemsworth @imsuperawkward

#my writing #supernatural #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #spn fanfiction #sastiel #samcas #sam/cas

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fantomette22 · 10 months

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What are some of your favorite Gehrman head-canons my friend? ^-^

Hiii !!!! Smiley Anon!!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ (sorry I am doing too much?? 😅 always a pleasure to see you're still around friend ♥️ I don't remember if you have an account but don't hesitate again to come talk it wouldn't be a pb for me!)

Oh dear you shouldn't ask me about Gehrman's headcanons without being precise my brain is a constant brainrot of those ideas XD (and I can't choose)

Well I was gonna put a giant list but wait you ask about my favorites right??! i... don't know 😰 I'm really bad at choices 💀 But hey I'm gonna try! (+ had a giant list) I promise not real angsty or sad ones because I'm in the mood for happy things now! ✨

But first well I'm going to link my backstory headcanon for him and the last headcanons list I share for him in an ask game (it's going to be really similar that's why)

If I really had to choose one... well I would say he made the small hair ornament.

And that he made the mercy blade (it was his secondary weapon : in bloodborne we can wield 2 weapons and 2 firearms so...) and passed it down later to the first official hunter of hunter's.

Now here's some put randomly, hope you enjoy! :

He had a few class at Byrgenwerth, didn't go far in the studies but still and have a few classes with Laurence XD

Then he became Byrgenwerth's groundskeeper (employee #1)

he help Willem?/Laurence? to make the gold pendant by potentially making/finding the gold blood gems.

Specialist to hang out looking at the moon at 2am (I mean Caryll too. Byrgenwerth campus was a mess at times)

the big bro of the group!

Of course he love flowers and weapons too! He could speak about hours of it! he's not real social but really cultivate he compensate with his close friends.

With Maria (and a bit caryll & maybe Rom??) they were in charge of cultivate the first Lumen flowers they bring back from Loran.

Part of the siderite use for his weapon and badge came from a meteorite he found when he was little.

yes he knew quite some stuff in astronomy, anatomy & geology (because I say so)

he got inspired by the undead alive giant "arms" for the burial blade.

His name originated from you know the cut content cainhurst knight missing a leg with a spear on a monster horse (kinda look like the tree sentinel in elden ring)

he could had become knight for Cainhurst but he politely declined

About his scarf I fall in love with a friend's version : Maria give it to him as a present. Alternatively it was from his family.

Yeah he had way too much version of the "how to pick up fair maiden books" (the church had them first!) because a few person give it to him or the workshop or it was to other hunters lol. Maybe it's just cool action novels too

He know how to played cello

he make great tea. And good food too

Ok so when he was older (after Maria passed away/before the dream and all) he got a dog! A white female wolfhound that hunt alongside him for years.

+ Sewing :

Of course he had dolls and made clothes for some plushies when he was little. he couldn't do really detailed broderies but sew clothes wince he was young.

He sew back hunter's clothes who were damaged

He made hats for his friends for a Christmas or smt

Well he made the doll clothes but the one the doll wear or a precedent version of the made it for Maria. Or at least he made the red neckerchief!!

Probably design/made at least 1 church outfit or accessories

Of course the charred hunter set is from him??

This man can fix almost anything! (Like weapons)

He don’t need a lot of sleep it’s crazy but when he’s in deep sleep just talking doesn’t work you need to move and push him

His cane is a little trick weapon too. A simple yet cool and fancy sword cane.

Update : omg i forgot to said he made little wood animals figures for his friends! (And more complexe one too!)

And I think I should stop here. That's already a lot of ideas just put randomly here. I probably forget a few and it's the happy ones here mostly. Sorry if you wanted smt way simpler and shorter I got motivated wanting to share headcanons, thanks again and I hope you enjoyed 😅

#my asks #anon asks #gehrman the first hunter #bloodborne headcanons #gehrman headcanons #yes I am inventing his own hc tag because I have too much XD could be useful later #my art #bloodborne

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stackthedeck · 1 year

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How would you feel about 8 with some peter parker ship. idk what- spideytorch, spideypool, spideydevil, team red, i dont Know but i think peter should get to purr. as a treat.

I did this with spideytorch because I think fic authors are really slacking on all the ways Johnny's powers could be used for romance reasons! Also here's an article I found while googling if spiders actually purr and there are actually sound clips!

New York City this time of year is blistering, bitter, biting cold. They are far past the picturesque first snow where everything is wrapped in a clean white blanket. Now the snow has melted, mixing with the road salt turning the world into a sludgy gray mess. And people are still committing crimes so Spider-Man still has to swing through the city even though the wind cuts much deeper from above the skyline.

Peter calls it quits early tonight, shaking so hard he can barely get his apartment window open. As he climbs inside, the heat of the apartment wraps around him and he’s greeted by the smell of bread and sauce, stress melting from his body with the cold.

“You’re back early,” Johnny says from the couch, “there’s a pizza in the oven.”

“I love you,” Peter sighs, not looking at Johnny but walking into the kitchen.

“Were you talking to me or the pizza?” Johnny laughs, getting up from the couch to follow him into the kitchen.

“The pizza, obviously,” Peter says as he pulls off his mask and gloves.

There’s only about a minute left on the oven timer, deciding that’s too long to wait, Peter grabs a pair of oven mitts and takes it out. Johnny wraps his arms around Peter’s waist, leaning his head on his shoulder to watch him cut the pizza. Peter relaxes into his touch, Johnny is warm—he always is—but especially after braving the winter winds, he feels amazing.

“Be careful, it’s hot,” Johnny says, watching Peter grab the biggest slice.

“Are you talking about yourself or the pizza?” Peter chuckles before taking a bite. He immediately winces, burning the roof of his mouth.

“The pizza,” Johnny sighs.

Peter swallows the scolding bite as he stares longingly at the slice in his hand. He could wait a minute or he could just power through the pain. Before Peter can take another bite, Johnny takes his chin and moves him into a kiss. Peter kisses back, although he’s thinking about how his mouth could be eating pizza instead. But as Johnny kisses him, his mouth goes cool, the burn dissipating.

“Woah,” Peter says as Johnny pulls away. Peter has seen Johnny steal the energy away from bombs and flames, but he didn’t know he could do it on such a controlled scale. Johnny just smirks, touching Peter’s slice and cooling it to the perfect temperature. He grabs his own slice, the crust charring at his fingertips.

“So…” Peter looks between Johnny and the pizza “...why didn’t you just cook it yourself?”

Johnny rolls his eyes and lets go of Peter’s waist, walking back into the living room. “Because you have an oven, Pete.”

Peter takes a perfect temperature bite before following Johnny. “I’m just saying it’d be faster.”

“Yeah, but that’d be like me asking you why you don’t climb the side of a building instead of taking the elevator.”

Johnny flops down on the couch, waiting for Peter to join him.

“So,” Peter says, still standing, “did you not just see me climb in through the window?”

“You know what I mean, webhead.” Johnny lunges forward, grabbing Peter by the wrist and pulling him onto the couch. Peter stumbles, falling on top of him. He pushes down, putting a little super strength behind it, pinning Johnny beneath him. Johnny shoves against his shoulder, but he doesn’t budge.

“Who’s the webhead now?” Peter laughs, shoving the rest of his slice of pizza in his mouth.

“Still you.” Johnny shoves him again, struggling as much as he can but Peter doesn’t move, just grins.

“Take it back, flame brain.”

“Never.” Johnny narrows his eyes, pushing heat into his palm. If Peter is going to cheat using superpowers, two can play at that game. He puts his hand—burning with enough heat to scare Peter, but not hurt him—on the back of his neck.

“What are you…?” Peter trails off, eyes going vacant as he relaxes against Johnny’s chest. “Ooh.”

Johnny shifts, no longer pinned by super strength. He runs his hand up and down Peter’s spine with a smirk. “You really like this, huh?”

“It’s freezing outside,” Peter mumbles, “and spiders can’t thermoregulate.”

Johnny takes his hand off Peter and his boyfriend responds with a whine that’s almost a whimper.

“Johnny,” Peter huffs.

“Say you’re a webhead.”

“Never.” Peter’s face hardens, staring Johnny down, but Johnny keeps his hands to himself. Peter leans forward, pressing their lips into a soft kiss before pulling back to stare at Johnny pleadingly. “I’m sorry for calling you flame brain.”

Johnny has to stop himself from laughing. This is the best day of his life, he never thought he’d see the day Peter apologizes, much less try to be cute. He wraps his arms around Peter, letting heat sink into his hands as they rub his back. Peter sighs with relief, resting his head on Johnny’s shoulder.

“Look at you,” Johnny chuckles, heating his whole body just slightly and reveling in how Peter practically melts against him, “you’re almost being sweet.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Peter mumbles, “just until the weather heats up.”

“Another six months of this then?” Johnny says.

“Shut it, human heating pad,” Peter says.

“Human heating pad?” Johnny chuckles, “seriously that’s the best you can do?”

Peter opens his mouth to quip back, but it devolves into a sigh as Johnny cards his fingers through his hair. He collapses against Johnny’s chest, cuddling closer.

“Oh, I should have done this ages ago,” Johnny says, hands wondering lower.

“Yeah.” Peter presses a kiss to Johnny’s neck, too relaxed to reach for his mouth. “Yeah, you should have.”

They lay like that for a while, Johnny’s hands running over Peter’s back and Peter holding him close. It’s been so long since they’ve done anything like this. Being heroes doesn’t leave much room for a personal life. It’s been quick kisses before battles, love-yous as one of them races out the door, hugs cut short by the world ending. But Johnny has Peter in his arms now and he doesn’t have to worry about him swinging away.

Peter’s breathing evens out and for a second, Johnny thinks he’s fallen asleep. But then Peter starts to vibrate, a tiny noise rumbling out of his chest. Johnny gasps, a grin spreading over his face. Peter blinks his eyes open, but by the grace of God, the noise doesn’t stop.

“Are you—” Johnny pauses, barely believing his ears “—purring?”

“No!” Peter’s face goes red and the noise and the vibrations stop. But Johnny knows what he heard, what he felt against his chest, and he can’t keep the smile from his face. He moves his hand to play with Peter’s hair again and Peter’s eyes flutter shut and he starts purring again. Johnny makes no sudden movements, just takes in the delightful sounds.

“...maybe,” Peter mutters, leaning into Johnny’s touch.

“Why?” Johnny keeps his movements gentle and his voice quiet even though he’s practically dying for shock. Peter Parker has never been cute. Attractive? Funny? Heroic? Sure. But cute? The furthest thing from it. But here he is, mouth held open in bliss and purring like a kitten on his chest.

“Comfy,” Peter says, stretching his arms over his head before wrapping them around Johnny.

“I got that.” Johnny smiles, leaning forward to press a kiss to Peter’s forehead. “But people don’t typically purr when they’re comfortable.”

“I have the proportional everything of a spider,” Peter says, letting Johnny run his hand over his jaw and neck, “so the super strength and wall climbing comes with the inability to regulate my body temperature and…purring.”

“It’s adorable,” Johnny says, breathing the words with awe.

“I’m not adorable,” Peter says, scowling at Johnny but it comes off so much less threatening than usual.

“Whatever you say, kitten.” Johnny brings his hand closer to Peter’s lips and he actually presses a kiss to his palm. Oh, Johnny’s never going to stop being his human heating pad.

“If you tell a soul,” Peter says, intending some threat but his voice is nothing more than a breathy sigh between rumbling purrs.

“That would require me actually getting you off me,” Johnny says. The vibrations are really nice, a subtle movement against his chest that’s oddly soothing. The sound is deep, sending sparks across his scalp that settle in the base of his skull.

“Is this why MJ calls you tiger?” Johnny asks.

“Oh my god,” Peter groans, pushing against Johnny’s hold.

Johnny finds a knot in his shoulder muscle and lets extra heat sink into his hand as he presses against it.

“Oh my god,” Peter moans, the purring growing louder.

“I’m going to do this all the time,” Johnny smirks, reveling in how pliant Peter is in his arms.

“Please do,” Peter says.

“Should I call Felicia,” Johnny asks, “tell her that you’re encroaching on her cat theme?”

“Stop ruining the moment,” Peter says.

Johnny smiles to himself, giving Peter another couple of minutes of silence. He’s soaked up Johnny’s heat, no longer freezing from the outside, and he’s a warm weight against his chest. The purring is truly beautiful and if he didn’t think Peter would smack him, he’d try to record it so he could fall asleep to it. Although, he could just coax out the real thing from Peter every night. He’s planning just how he could do it when another question occurs to him.

“So, is this like a spider mating ritual?” Johnny asks.

“Yeah,” Peter hums almost absentmindedly.

Johnny’s face heats up, but if the heat spreads to the rest of his body, Peter doesn’t flinch. Peter kisses Johnny’s neck, the movement less lazy than earlier, teeth grazing against the skin.

“Any other spidery habits I should know about?” Johnny asks.

#asks #my fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfic #spiderman #peter parker #johnny storm #spideytorch #marvel comics fanfic

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ohnoitstbskyen · 1 year

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youtube

Yasuo's Worst Skin: Nightbring Yasuo lets the splash art down very badly

I debated this one for a while, because I truly do think Battle Boss Yasuo is one of the worst skins in the game, but Nightbringer commits the sin of not only being more expensive but being a way bigger letdown.

Look at this splash art. Look at this sleek, terrifying, obsidian skinned demon from the pits of hell, with its spike-ridden arms sleeked back horns and streamlined streak of dark hair. It looks charred like coal, burning with dark radiance from the inside...

And now say hello to motherfucking Shadow the Hedgehog. Not only are his cool bony horns replaced with whatever the fuck this floating crown thing is all the sense of sleek, fiery lethality is flushed straight down the drain in favor of this enormous puffy hairdo a third the size of his whole body. Rather than coal-fired obsidian skin he looks like a dude who hasn't seen the sun in three decades, and any sense of understated menace is flushed in favor of a Saturday Morning Cartoon "HEY I'M A BAD GUY" obviousness that just... lets the splash so, SO badly.

He was meant to be the embodiment of primodial lethal chaos but just looks like the villain of a bad mid-2000s He-Man reboot.

#tbskyen #league of legends #league of legends skins #yasuo #nightbringer yasuo #Youtube

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sillyfudgemonkeys · 4 months

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Ok there hasn't been much aside from a magazine shot and some kinda confirmation, what are your thoughts on the protagonist of metaphor, 1 having their own backstory, and 2, apparently not being a fully silent protagonist? I ask bc I know some similar points come up with the p5 protagonist and eheheh I can guess how ya feel about that

Well I mean.......I'm fine with P2, P3, and Catherine, and those all fulfill either one or both criteria. TT0TT

P2 has a firm backstory for chars, and they speak/technically speak at some point.

P3 they have a firm backstory that plays into the main plot later (P3/4MCs have the more varied personality tho).

And Vincent.....alksfjdkjff Vincent is self explanatory, but one of the best examples of a voiced MC who's personality can greatly differ from the sliding law/chaos scale as make certain choices.

Hell, Serph from DDS1, I thought he could totally be voiced during those dialogue choice scenes. Was kinda let down they didn't even though I found the opportunity to be right there!

So like I don't mind a silent MC, I don't mind a silent MC with a backstory, I don't mind a silent MC with a vague/small backstory, I don't mind a voice MC, I don't mind a voiced MC with a backstory, I don't mind a voiced MC with a vauge/small backstory.

As long as they handle it well I'm good.

(now for the P5 rant uwu, oh you know it was coming)

My issue with P5 is......contradictions. I'm really suppose to believe that the boy who saved a woman he didn't know, would try to creep on (at best) a sex worker/maid? (at worst the undertones of possible sexual assault esp with two other guys hiding in the same room really......makes my skin crawl, I know that's not their intention, but god could you imagine being Sadayo for a minute???? it's already bad enough it's her STUDENT! And now she has to figure out if it's intentional or not, but if she knew about the two hiding???? I'd freak).

I'm supposed to believe he is cool with creeping on his female friends (it's not about being horny, it's the fact they don't keep it to themselves it really isn't that hard)? He'd stand bye and allow Ryu to creep on them and make pervy plans that involved the girls? That'd he'd say he's "so jealous" when he sees a fake Anne on Kamo's arm?

It just doesn't add up. It's either "we put it in there for shits and giggles but yeah it doesn't make sense for his char," OR worse yet.....they do coexist and Joker is actually a piece of shit with a fucked moral compass. (which the latter COULD BE interesting, but it's never explored so :'D can't really argue it being a good writing choice).

Like shit, let's ignore his established character moment and backstory and focus on Anne/Ryuji. What bothered me was......these two are his ride or die. They had his back and he had their back. Ryu tried to protect him with his life after just meeting him. Anne put her trust in him, and pushed him to become Joker. Like if Ryu is the reason formed the group PT. Anne's the reason Joker pursued being a PT in the first place (she gave him the push he needed).

....yet the game gives you a biiiit too many opportunities to shit on them???? Sometimes it's not even optional! Like the dialogue choices are all somehow negative towards them at times and it's like???? Why???? I can maybe get Yusuke, but then he joins! But nooooo no 100% negative option for Makoto, even tho she drives off one of your leads! (tbh I think that's the starting point the game even calms down on Anne/Ryuji choices too). But really??? Why am I fine leaving Ryu alone with two harassers??? Why do I treat them like this? If there are two chars that the MC should go to bat for regardless, it should be Anne/Ryuji.

Just....why? Why? Can't I have a choice where I 100% agree with them? I don't care if they are in the wrong, I don't care if they thing 2+2=7. Let me talk them up!

It's like the opposite of the Junpei/P3MCs issue. I can't buy a friendship between Junepei and P3MC because I don't see them develop as friends in the main story (and I don't get even a side story/SL with him). I have a hard time stomaching parts of Junpei/FeMC friendship (but reverse), because even I can easily see them as friends, he still acts all pissy! And you'd think that'd damage their relationship.

Now replace Junpei with P5MC, and P3MCs with Anne/Ryuji/*insert other char* and I have the same issue. It's not about "I don't want people kissing MCs asses all the time" it's not about kissing ass, it's about making sure they feel like they are actually friends when the game tells me they are. TT0TT

Between that and.....P5MC.....feeling like they WANTED to write a more concrete MC BUT felt compelled to make him silent.....I think hurts his writing more.

One benefit for the P3/4MCs is the diversity in personalities it created with the different choices (of course you can easily make contradictions, but those contradictions are PLAYER BASED rather than STORY/GAME BASED like P5). Esp between the good endings vs the bad endings.

I can buy P3MCs choosing ignorance and killing Ryoji, because of the meaning of SLs, ignoring them, or doing them and being absolutely HORRIBLE and reversing/breaking them (male side). FeMC it's more ignoring them and her just smiling hollowly.

P4MC I can see giving into the bad ending or even the accomplice ending for the most part. Esp if they choose to ignore SLs, be an ass/loner when possible, and be as unhelpful in the investigation as possible as well. Considering he still hangs out with his friends outside SLs, him still being horrified by what he's done and not 100% evil in the accomplice ending still makes sense. (needs some tweaking but still makes sense)

But P5MC? Giving into Yaldy? I dunno. I can kinda see it, he does insult his friends at times (reason why? who knows! is he jaded because of his arrest? Maybe? But his friends are also outcasts too??? At least with P3/4MCs it can be played off as loners right out the gate who get wrapped up in shenanigans. P5MC? he's deliberately giving motivation by his first friends and his strong sense of justice so????? doesn't that contradict????). The only thing that seems to foreshadow this ending decently is him saying some greedy and outta pocket/"sinful" things.....at times. Like I've said before, it's contradictory. Wishy washy!

At least with P3/4MCs, the fun times they experience could be explained by they are faking it (either emulating emotions for P3MCs and are still hollow inside/fear death, or hiding their true intentions for P4MC aka for the accomplice ending). Hell! P4 even puts the idea in the players head by Shadow Yosuke that Yosuke is only looking into this case cause it's "fun" and "to play hero" and maybe P4MC is doing just that (in P4G at least). Otherwise the "fail" ending for P4MC doesn't really have any personality contradictions, you just fail to see the truth and/or convince the others.

P5/P5MC relies on a moral choice of the MC (chosen by the player). But the MC himself has a lot of set personality traits and said choice contradicts the majority/prominent/establishing traits (compared to the minor ones that align with that choice but contradict the establishing traits). It just feels....weird.....

Like it's not allowed to breathe. Joker isn't open-ended enough like P3/4MCs to rationalize the bad ending. But he's also not concrete enough to stay consistent and just stick with set ending.

If P5MC was written more like the approach they took to Vincent, that might've helped it.

Cause Vincent (looking at just Catherine Classic for this btw, but I think it also applies to FB just a few more hoops) can be Loyal/Neutral/Cheater without too much contradictions.

He's already shaky on his stance, and is unsure of himself (maybe a bit flighty and changes his opinion on things)

He is thrusted into a situation he had no control over (he does start off as loyal leaning so it's most likely a situation he wouldn't have ever found himself in if he wasn't targeted)

That incident causes him to change via reevaluating his outlook on life. From his choices in dialogue, to the questions in the confession. Those small choices affect his psyche and causes him to constantly change

With each change to his psyche, we see a new rationalization pop into his head.

Every ending rationalizes each thing, even the ones that contradict (aka the bad endings).

Yes it's the players choice, but 99% of the options feel within reason. And not just within reason, they are rationalized.

Basically what I'm saying is P5 needs to rationalize it. Either by making P5MC MORE openended like P3/4MCs....or make him more into a fixed character like Vincent but give different rationalizations as you make choices.

Back to Refan, as long as it handles itself well and isn't wishy washy or contradictory, I'm fine with however they wanna handle the MC. Silent or not. TT0TT

#silly asks #silly answers #sorry if the vincent part is a bit messy i'm tired and was trying to type fast

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leviathans-watching · 3 years

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Hi :3

Can I ask for how the brothers react when mc comes to them crying and seeking comfort because of a nightmare?

the brothers react to you having a nightmare

includes: the bothers x/& gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: 1k | rated g | m.list

warnings: mentions of nightmares, mentions/descriptions of you crying, pet names such as darling (lucifer) and dove (asmo) used towards you

a/n: this is a really cute request and is perfect for a little hurt/a lot of comfort. thanks for requesting!! my inbox is open to chat, leave feedback, or request, so please drop something in there!!

pls reblog 🤲🤲

➳ lucifer is still awake, bent over his desk, but the moment he senses your presence, he pushes away his work, turning to you. “darling?” he asks, noticing your tearstained face. “what’s wrong?” automatically opening his arms, he slides his char away from the desk so you have room to curl up in his lap, hugging him tightly. you explain it was a nightmare, and no more words are needed. he consoles you for a few minutes before convincing you to go to bed. “will you come with me?” you ask, and he nods. “it was my plan all along,’ he says, and true to his word, he slides under the covers of his bed with you right next to him, pressed up against his side.

➳ mammon wakes up instantly when he feels your touch. “what? what is it?” he asks concernedly, sitting up. “who was it? do i need to kill someone? mc, what’s goin’ on?” you tell him about your nightmare, and while his protective act calms some, he’s still ready to throw down for you. “oh, i’m sorry,” he says, now fully awake. “nightmares suck. do ya wanna sleep with me?” you agree, and mammon holds up the covers for you, letting you slip under them. wincing as your cold hands press into his chest mammon throws an arm around you, tracing patterns on your back. he doesn't sleep until you do, keeping up his soft movements until your breath evens out, a sappy look on his face as he hums under his breath for you.

➳ levi is up, headset on, eyes focused intently on his game. when you hesitantly touch his shoulder he jumps, ready to scold you for scaring him. when he notices your red eyes and pale face he quits his game, not even thinking about it, ready to help you. “are you alright?” he asks, and when you shake your head he feels his heart break a little. “how can i help?” it takes a little bit of maneuvering, but soon enough, you're wrapped in a blanket in his arms as levi continues to game, gratefully letting him distract you. you don’t have a headset or anything, just enjoying the bright lights and fun moves he makes, letting the repetition of it all calm you. once levi finally sees your head drooping, he shuts off his console, gently bringing you to his bed, where he lays you down, leaving enough room for himself.

➳ satan had fallen asleep on one of the couches in the living room, and, as a light sleeper, was instantly awake when he heard the kitchen faucet running and the clatter of a glass in the sink. “mc? is that you?” he asks into the dark, vaguely able to make out your profile. “what are you doing awake?” all he gets in response is silence. then, a tiny sniffle. realizing you’re upset, satan makes his way over to you, wrapping you in a hug. “hey,” he says softly. “what’s going on? are you okay?” you tell him about your nightmare and satan squeezes you tighter before letting go to retrieve the glass you dropped, filling it with cool water once more. “here,” he says, pressing it in your hand. “drink this. then we can go to my room, or hang out on the couch for a little bit. it’s up to you.”

➳ asmo snaps his eyes open when he feels someone gently shaking him. “what’s going on?” he asks blearily. realizing it’s you, he turns over, sitting up slightly so he can see you, features illuminated by the pale glow of his nightlight. the first thing he sees are the wet marks on your face. you’ve been crying, but why? grabbing your hand, asmo lightly tugs you into bed with him, wiping away your tears. “what’s wrong, dove? did something happen?” he listens, cooing in sympathy as you describe your nightmare, and when it’s all over, he hugs you tightly, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. eventually, you’re calmed down enough to try to sleep again, and asmo lets you rest your head on his chest, trying his best to keep his breathing deep and even for you. when you fall asleep, he does as well, comforted by the fact that you’re comforted.

➳ beel finds you curled up on one of the couches, making him pause in his mission to get a midnight snack. “mc? what’s wrong? why aren’t you in bed?” it's obvious you’re upset, though you’re not crying right now, and he feels a little worried when your gaze is blank as your eyes meet his. sitting beside you, he coaxes the story from you gently, clasping your hand gently in his and rubbing the back of it with his thumb. “do you want something to drink? eat? i could make you something,” he offers, relieved when you take him up on it. you calm down as you make your way though the snack, and by the time the both of you are done you’re ready to go back to bed, though you ask him if you can sleep with him. he agrees, of course, and you fall asleep quickly, though he stays up a while stroking your hair.

➳ belphie pulls you into his bed, wrapping the numerous covers around you. “i’m sorry you had a nightmare,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “that wasn’t very nice of your brain, now, was it?” you shake your head, face buried in his chest, and belphie tightens his hold around you. “i’ve got you now,” he promises. “i’ll make sure all of the bad dreams stay away, alright?” reassured, you calm down quite a bit, and it doesn't take long for you to fall asleep again, and true to his word, belphie uses his powers to give you the best dreams he can think of, trying to fill you with only the best feelings. he normally doesn’t intrude on dreams but he thinks that this is a special situation and you deserve some good dreams.

leviathans-watching’s work - please do not repost, copy, or claim as your own

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kkusuka · 3 years

Note

omg!!! i was like🥵🥵w the kuroo x bokuto threesome

could u do a suna x kenma x reader one?😳

of course~

The Ladies Room

Professional Gamer AU

Suna Rinatrou x fem!reader x Kenma Kozume

genre: smut

Cw: degrading, slight choking, slight orgasm denial, photography

a/n: i had no idea what to write for this, than all of a sudden it was 1,000 words and i was like :0. this is such a cool pair too, not one i would have thought of and i love that.

----

Of all people to join your Fallout stream, you had not expected Kodzuken and Sunarin’s usernames arguing in the chat. About your attitude towards the vault experiments nonetheless.

You had no idea they even watched your streams.

Your 700 thousand followers seemed minuscule compared to Kodzuken’s 31 million and Sunarin’s 29.7 million. Them watching just made you feel important, nevermind the fact they were blowing up your chat.

Finishing your goal for the night, mind consumed by elaborate fangirling, you ended your stream. Taking a second to breathe you check your phone, almost having a heart attack when you see a request to directly message Kodzuken.

Kodzuken: join the discord

Kodzuken: we wanna talk with you about some games

In your shock you clicked the link he sent, placing your headphones back on your ears, entering the call.

“Hello?”

---

“He said he was going to be here 25 minutes ago,” Kenma gave you a hum of recognition at your statement, it was true, Suna was always late, “we should tell him to come 15 minutes before.”

Just the fact you knew that Suna was always late was amazing.

Thinking about how your twice-a-week calls became everyday video chats turned to you meeting at different restaurants, sometimes arcades, almost three times a week was insane.

Kenma looked almost identical to how he looked in streams, pristine and calculating. Abit a bit more lively, he was far louder than where you first met. But now he seems to have opened up, loudly telling Suna off when he finally shows up.

Suna, on the other hand, looked almost ethereal in person. The cameras did him no justice, he was tanner and his eyes were far more captivating in person. He was much more exuberant with you, actually, they both were.

They were everything they were on the screen and more, Suna’s teasing smiles and Kenma’s observant stares were far more personal when you were sitting right in front of them.

“No, I’m serious (y/n), he did it all wrong. He had to go to the back of the bar and speak to the barmaid before going back into the town.” You also had no idea that Suna really liked to debate about the games he was passionate about.

“No I don't, there’s no specific way to do it, that’s a time-wasting side quest” Kenma bit back at the man sitting beside him. You hadn’t played the game but they always bugged you for the input,

“Sometimes side quests are really helpful, Ken! They might help you level up, the better the stats the better chance of beating the game!”

As you spoke both pairs of eyes shot up to yours, Rin’s turning as he let out a triumphant smirk and Kenma’s downturned scowl, frowning back at his switch and seemingly turning back to do as Suna suggested.

Slurping down the rest of your drink you had the overwhelming urge to use the bathroom came over you. Voicing your need, Suna mocked and watched you leave.

Trying to hurry out of the bathroom, the sooner you get out the less complaining Suna will make about his “separation anxiety.”

Coming out you could see a small line that had formed, one woman towards the end being, from what you could see, pressed against that wall with a man towing over her. She was clearly uncomfortable, and something in you just made you need to save her.

“Sir? She is clearly uncomfortable, you should leave, this is a line for the ladies' room.” now standing before you, he looked you up and down before completely turning towards you. “Well little lady, I’ll leave the line if you come back with me.”

Face flushing at his obvious uncaringness, you were never given the chance to respond before an arm wrapped around your waist and a voice called from behind you.

“No, she’s busy.” Kenma’s voice rang as he led you out of the small hallway to where Suna stood at the doorway. Eye’s following you all the way.

Both leading you to Kenma's car, Rin pulling you to sit with him and the blond drove.

-------

“You think we were just going to let another man flirt with you like that?”

Turning your head to where kenma’s sat watching as Suna bounced you along his cock. Your mind was in overdrive, the same men who watched you bouncing along his cock are the ones who had not let you cum for hours before.

Attempting to reach a hand to your throbbing clit, Rin smacked your hand away harshly thrusting up into your cervix. Using that same hand he wrapped a hand around your neck, pulling to his face.

“Bad fucking cunts don't get to cum” he snarled out sending a wave of pleasure through your body.

“Please, R-Rin, I need to, places, want to cum, so bad.” he seemed to like your begging, as his fingers meet your clit, rubbing small circles, making your hips buck into his.

As Rin pressed your body to his, you could hear Kenma rise from his char and slowly make his way to you. Latching fingers around your chin he pulled your tear-stained face to look at him.

“You're going to be good for me right Kitten? You've done so well for Suna, so you have to be good for me now.”

Tugging his shorts down he released his cock from its confinements and pressed your mouth open, wrapping your lips around his tip. Suna continued his assault on your clit, now flicking a pebbled nipple, chuckling at your little moans.

“You make such sweet little sounds, face stuffed with cock. You love this, don't you? You should just be our little cum-dump from now on.”

By now Kenma had lost his patience on your slow pace, still trying to handle Suna’s rough pace.

Placing a hand on the back of your head, shoving his dick to the back of your throat, setting a brutal pace, balls slapping your chin. Grabbing your hair, pulling your head to face you up, a better angle to face-fuck you.

“Suna- picture” Moving quickly he bent his waist to grab Kenma’s phone, which was laying on the nightstand to your right. “Smile, Kitten”

It was a joke on you, tears streaming down our face, approaching your orgasm, mouth filled with cock, trying to smile as Kenma records you, guaranteed to go into a private folder on his computer.

Thrusting up, Suna hit a spot in you that made you fall apart on his cock, pulling your mouth off Kenma to let out a gasping moan of release. Hand gripping the plush of your hips fucking up into you, aiding his own release before pushing you off.

Pulling your back to his chest he grasped your thigh, pussy on display for the recording. Pressing your stomach to push the remainder of his cm out of your clenching hole, ending Kenma over the edge, painting your thighs white.

Setting your legs down, Suna snuggled into the crook of your neck as Kenma flopped down onto the bed wrapping his arms around your legs.

“No, we have to clean up, ‘m all sticky”

“Round two?”

#kenma kozume #suna rintarou #suna x reader #kenma x reader #kenma smut #suna smut #kenma kozume x reader #suna rintarou x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut

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hrina · 3 years

Text

The Thrill of the Chase, Pt. I

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: M WORD COUNT: 3.6k REQUESTED: no

hi! it’s been a while since i’ve posted something on here lol, i wonder if anyone still remembers me 🤕

this is PART 1 of the hunter!AU that i’ve been writing. while the story is a patreon-exclusive, my patrons gave me permission to post the first chapter here on tumblr for anyone who’s curious about the kind of content i offer on patreon.

if you want to read the rest of this series and unlock access to my other exclusive work, you can sign up for my patreon here. and as always, please reblog the fics you like and leave feedback for the authors, because we pour a lot of time and effort into our stories. happy reading 💌

~*~

Harry’s life is simple.

He performs only the essentials—wakes up and eats an apple for breakfast. Drizzles some lemon juice into his flask of water to keep his teeth healthy and clean. Shrugs on a few heavy furs. Lets Magnus outside to keep him from howling and pawing at the door. Sharpens his arrows. Knocks on the threshold of the cabin once for good luck. Goes hunting.

Upon returning, he crouches next to the firepit, laying out his kills and skinning them. He cooks one for himself—something small, like a squirrel, or a rabbit. Others, he saves for the market—fox, deer, coyote, boar. The pelts, tusks, and antlers are extremely sought-after (particularly by nobles), and often earn enough coin to carry him through the rest of the week.

He doesn’t entertain visitors, because who in their right mind would trek up the side of a mountain just to seek out one lonely hunter? Despite that, he’s come to appreciate his solitude. The silence is familiar—comfortable. Besides, Magnus proves both excellent and useful company, if the sheer volume of their kills offers any indication.

A simple life for a simple man.

Harry doesn’t need anyone else.

“Ready to go, mutt?”

He scratches behind Magnus’ droopy ears. One of the hound’s hindlegs thumps frantically in response. Harry chuckles, slinging his bow over his right shoulder and pulling open the cabin door.

“Come on, then.”

The sky is a dark, cloudy grey, and the smell of oncoming rain is unmistakable. Still, the two of them persevere, ducking past the trees at the edge of the clearing.

It’s a bad day to hunt.

With the threat of a storm looming just above the canopy, the animals have forgone their typical foraging patterns in favour of taking shelter. Harry only manages to kill a rabbit, and even then, it’s a messy shot. He usually gets them right through the eye—a quick, neat splice that results in minimal suffering. This time, however, his foot slips on a damp stone; he fumbles, and the arrow buries itself into the creature’s stomach.

“Fuck.”

The rabbit is still alive when he reaches it, its furry body heaving with shaky, uneven breaths. Harry kneels down, apologising quietly. His hand finds the scabbard strapped to his waist, and he draws a silver dagger from its depths.

He slits the poor hare’s throat just as rain begins to fall.

It’s easy work, after that. He pins the animal’s fluffy forelimbs together, tying them in place with thick, coarse rope. Magnus whimpers as Harry slides the creature’s limp body over his shoulder. He shoots the hound a tired look and shakes his head. Damp brown curls stick to his temples.

“Think that’s enough for today.”

The two of them have nearly made it back home—Harry’s boots squelch as he jumps over the small creek that flows close to the clearing—when Magnus perks up, lifting his snout and sniffing the air.

“What is it, mutt?” Harry asks.

Magnus releases a loud bark and takes off in the direction of the cabin. Harry sprints after him, one hand clutching his game while the other wraps around the leather grip of his bow.

“Magnus!” he yells.

The dog skids to a stop next to the wide trunk of a tree. He barks again and wags his tail feverishly.

Harry releases his bow, approaching with slow, cautious steps.

“What’s got you so—shit.”

You’re slumped in the mud, unconscious. Harry’s gaze rakes over your form, from your tattered blue gown to the leaves and twigs tangled in your hair. There are a few cuts littered across your face, arms, and chest. Rivulets of blood trickle down your wrist, spiderwebbing across your skin.

Magnus sticks his tongue out and pants.

“Good boy,” Harry mutters, bestowing a rugged caress atop the hound’s head.

He gathers you into his arms, paying no mind to the extra weight of your sodden dress. Your neck lolls over his bicep, sternum rising and falling with shallow, barely-there breaths. Harry carries you out of the forest and into the clearing. When he kicks open the cabin door, your eyelids flutter.

“Bear?” you mumble, lifting your head slightly. Your voice is grating, hoarse.

He looks at you. Your face contorts for only a moment before you slouch back into oblivion.

He sets you down onto the thick, woven rug splayed out in front of the hearth. He works quickly, shrugging off his furs and his game and discarding all of it without a second thought. Rain thrums against the roof, but the sound is lost amidst his heavy footsteps.

He hurries into his bedroom and pulls open the top drawer of his wooden dresser, fumbling for a glass jar and a spool of bandages. When his fingers finally make contact with the desired supplies, he darts back into the other room and kneels beside your motionless body.

He draws his dagger again, gripping the intricate material of your gown and slicing through it. Your corset proves far more challenging, practically embedded into your skin. He sets his knife aside, not willing to risk it. Instead, he hooks his fingers beneath the top of the girdle, rough knuckles brushing against your soft bosom. With a mighty tug, the structured fabric splits under his palms.

He screws open the lid on the jar and dips his thumb inside. The salve is sticky, viscous, and smells faintly of lavender. He smears it across your scrapes before inspecting your wrist.

The flesh is slashed and bloodied—how did you acquire such an injury? Canines? Claws? Harry uses the frayed edges of your dress to clean the mess. He then unwinds a few bindings from their roll, expertly bandaging your wound.

Once he’s finished, he sits back on his haunches, expelling a stale breath. His work is far from over—he needs to wash you, to scrub off all the dirt and grime staining your skin. He’ll go down to the creek with a cloth, he thinks, and saturate it with cool water. He’ll pick the leaves and branches out of your hair, and cover you in spare furs to keep you warm. He’ll prepare a hot meal so that you may eat when you wake. You’ll be ravenous, certainly.

These thoughts whirl around in his head, along with the realisation that you might expire here, lying on an old rug in the middle of a stranger’s secluded home. Still, he watches your chest rise, swelling with proof of your vitality. The sight puts him at ease.

Harry aims a cursory glance over his shoulder. Magnus is stationed at the door, wet snout resting on the ground. The dog gazes at your limp body with big, solemn eyes, as though he somehow understands the severity of the situation.

“Don’t worry, mutt,” Harry tells him, knees shuffling against the floor. “I won’t let her die.”

~*~

Three days pass.

Harry curtails the duration of his hunts. He kills only the essentials: a hare or a squirrel, something small enough to cook over the fire. He has enough coin saved up from his previous trades to last him another few trips to the market.

Every morning, he prepares a simple, homely meal for you should you wake. When you do not, he eats the food in your place—he’ll be damned if it goes to waste.

On the fourth day, he carries a bowl of soup into his room. He’s expecting to see you tucked into his bed, still unconscious. Instead, you’re alert, sitting upright and studying your surroundings. The furs that previously covered your body now pool around your waist, exposing your naked chest. When you catch sight of Harry lingering in the doorway, you gasp, fumbling for the pelts and clutching them to your sternum.

“You’re up,” he says gruffly, stepping through the threshold.

You scramble back, eyes widening in fear. He pauses.

You’re afraid, he realises, tilting his head to the side. This may be more difficult than he initially thought.

“Soup,” he says slowly, holding out the small clay bowl in his hands. “You need to eat.”

“Who are you?” you ask. Your voice is patchy and frail. “Where am I?”

He sets the dish down onto his dresser before shooting you a stern, expectant look.

“Eat.”

Upon exiting the room, he strains his ears and listens carefully. The creak of a loose floorboard—you’ve climbed out of bed. The sound of nimble footsteps pattering across the ground—you’re moving toward the door. And finally, the quiet scrape of clay against wood, indicating that your hunger has prevailed.

He nods to himself.

You’re not dead. That’s a start.

~*~

That evening, Harry is perched next to the firepit outside the cabin. The orange sun crawls down the horizon, kissing the tops of the trees. He basks in the warmth, knowing that it will soon be eradicated by the cool chill of nightfall.

He fiddles with the spit poised above the flames. He caught another rabbit, today. The creature’s fur is laid out across the grass, scrubbed clean of blood. The rest of it cooks over the fire, darkening with each passing minute.

A faint creak reaches Harry’s ears. He perks up, glancing at the door.

You hover just beyond the threshold, leaning nervously against the strong wooden beams. Harry relaxes and turns back around. He uses a long stick to poke at the charred logs; the kindling pops, and a few embers float into the air.

“What are you doing?” Your inquiry is soft, shaky.

His reply is curt: “Dinner.”

You approach warily, bare feet treading through the grass. When you spot the hunk of meat roasting over the flames, a feeble gasp tumbles from your lips.

“That’s barbaric.”

Harry rubs his palms against his thighs. “That’s sustenance.”

He stands, and you retreat. His attention then falls to your torso. You’ve covered yourself with the furs from his room; they hang just past the swell of your bottom, rendering you exceptionally vulnerable. Goosebumps crop up on your bare thighs, visible in the golden light of the sunset.

He hums. “You need clothes.”

You look down at the ground.

“That would be nice,” you whisper at last.

He merely grunts in response.

You follow him back inside, albeit from a distance. He strolls into his bedroom, pausing in front of a large trunk shoved against the far wall. Twin latches click open, and he begins rifling through its contents. After a few moments of silence, he produces a pale linen shirt and a pair of dark leather trousers.

“Here,” he says.

He dumps the fabric into your arms. You huff in surprise, instinctively relinquishing your hold on the pelts covering your body. They fall to the floor in a heap, exposing every inch of your skin.

An embarrassed squeak echoes in the back of your throat. Harry averts his eyes, staring pointedly up at the ceiling.

“Put those on,” he murmurs.

You nod quickly, sidestepping his broad frame. Now that you’re no longer in his line of sight, he lowers his gaze. Part of him wonders if he should say something else, but he decides against it. His legs carry him forward, and he disappears through the door.

~*~

You emerge from the bedroom a short while later, smoothing your hands over your hair in an attempt to look a bit more presentable. Harry resists the urge to tell you that here, in the mountains, appearances are hardly significant. He doesn’t own a mirror—such luxuries can only be afforded by the rich.

His clothes are too big on you, but that was to be expected. You’ve rolled up the sleeves of his linen shirt and cuffed the brown leather trousers so that they cinch at your ankles. You’re anxious, incisors gnawing on your bottom lip and eyes darting around the clearing, like you’re waiting for a monster to burst forth from the bushes.

“Here.”

Harry cuts a sliver of meat from the cooked rabbit carcass resting on the spit. You sit down on a wide, round tree stump as he holds the food out in your direction.

At first, he thinks that you may vomit. Fortunately, though, he finds himself mistaken. After a long moment of deliberation, you accept the protein, bringing it up to your nose and sniffing it warily.

“It’s good,” he rasps, slicing off another strip for himself. “Rabbit—all white meat.”

He pops the piece into his mouth and chews. Slowly, you copy him, sighing happily as newfound flavour erupts over your tongue. You waste no time, then, impatiently shoving the rest of the meat into your mouth.

Harry’s lips twitch.

“Thank you,” you say after swallowing.

He simply nods. The two of you continue to eat in silence, grinding the remnants of supper between your teeth.

Eventually, your curiosity overwhelms you.

“What’s you name?” you ask, timid.

Harry sits back, wiping his dagger with the hem of his cotton shirt.

“Harry.”

“And how did you find me, Harry?”

A low chuckle resonates in the back of his throat.

“Wasn’t exactly hard. You were lying in a puddle of mud not far from here.”

Your lips part. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Three days.”

“Three days?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t remember any of it,” you say softly, playing with your fingers. You hesitate before elaborating: “But I—I remember seeing your face. I thought you were a bear.”

He recalls that day, how you lifted your head weakly and uttered the word before sinking back into unconsciousness. It led him to believe that you’d been attacked. Your side of the story, however, proves much more entertaining.

“Well,” he says, exhaling brusquely, “I’m not.”

You examine him with big, tender eyes. He shifts awkwardly under the intensity of your gaze.

“No,” you finally agree. “You’re not.”

He swallows and flips the conversation around.

“Who are you?”

You stiffen, caught off-guard.

“That is…hardly relevant.”

“Perhaps,” Harry says. “But it is fair.”

When you don’t reply, he continues.

“You’re a lady, aren’t you?” he guesses. “A duchess. Your gown was too pretty to have belonged to a commoner.”

“My gown?” You perk up at the mention of the dress. “Where is it?”

“Gone. I tore through it.”

You gasp. “Why on earth would you do that?”

“It was the only way to keep you alive,” he says simply. “Your corset was impeding your ability to breathe.”

“My corset…” you mutter, mostly to yourself. You grimace after registering the implications of his words, thoroughly scandalized. “So, you—you—?”

“Yes. I had to.”

“God,” you choke out, covering your mouth. “How dare you? You should have just—!”

“Let you die?”

His query successfully squashes your disapproval; your lips flatten into a thin line, and you say nothing else. Harry watches the creases in your forehead dwindle as you realise that he’s right. You fiddle with the collar of your shirt, turning to the side and regaining your composure.

“Thank you,” you finally murmur, trying to hide your face from his piercing stare, “for not letting me die.”

He grunts. “You’re welcome.”

Brief silence ensues. A light breeze blows through the clearing, tousling the curls atop Harry’s head. The gust is enough to extinguish the last few flames frolicking over the kindle, until glowing embers are all that remain.

“I am a lady,” you suddenly add, though you refuse to meet his eyes. “But not a duchess.”

Harry leans forward, prodding at the residual ash in the firepit.

“What were you doing in the woods?”

You tinker with the bandages wrapped around your injured wrist.

“I was to be wed,” you confess, peeking up at him. “But I—I could not bear to go through with it. One should not marry for duty, but rather—”

“For love?”

You pause at his intrusion, lips parted in surprise.

“Yes,” you breathe. “For love.”

Your gazes lock. He clears his throat, breaking the contact quickly.

“You ran away, then.”

It’s not a question. You nod, and he hums.

“What is it?” you ask, brows knitting together.

“Nothing. It’s just…I may find good fortune in this situation.”

“How so?”

He shrugs. “Any man with sense would carry you down this peak, deliver you back to your family, and collect a hefty reward.”

Though he’s not looking at you, he can tell that you’ve recoiled.

“Please don’t,” you whisper.

He examines your face in the periphery of his vision. Your eyes glisten with unshed tears.

Just then, Magnus races out of the cabin, his tail wagging eagerly behind him. He trots over to you, sniffing your shoulder and releasing a high-pitched whine. You use one hand to swipe hastily at your cheeks; the other migrates to his head, tickling his floppy ears.

Harry watches the interaction unfold, completely stunned.

“He—he likes you.”

You glance over at him, still wary of his previous threat.

“I suppose he does,” you say quietly.

Magnus paws at your thighs. You direct your attention back to the keen bloodhound, pressing a feathery kiss to the tip of his wet nose.

Harry blinks a few times, trying to pinpoint the reason for his mutt’s newfound behaviour. At first, he wonders if his eyes are simply playing tricks on his brain. Yet with each flutter of his lids, the sight before him only seems to solidify.

“He doesn’t usually take well to strangers,” he mumbles.

When you don’t respond, he clenches his jaw tightly. Countless thoughts zoom through his head, spinning like wheels, tangling like thread.

Any man with sense would carry you down this peak, deliver you back to your family, and collect a hefty reward.

Harry is not a sensible man.

~*~

The three of you retreat indoors when the last shards of sunlight fade from the sky. Magnus circles the large woven rug poised in front of the hearth. Eventually, he collapses onto the mat, his snout drooping over his front paws. You stretch your arms into the air and yawn gently.

Harry is the last one to enter the cabin; he shuts the door behind him.

“Thank you again for dinner,” you say lightly.

You spin around and nearly crash into the hard barrier of his chest. Reflexively, his hands fly up to grasp your biceps, steadying you. He peers down at your face in the darkness, his thoughtful gaze tracing the contours of your cheeks. Your eyes are wide, lips split apart as you suck in air.

“Sorry,” you say, frozen in place.

He only grunts, releasing your arms and stepping away.

Your attention lingers on him as he approaches a wide pile of furs stacked into the corner of the room. He’s been sleeping on the makeshift cot for the past three nights, and though his back is always sore the next morning, he has yet to find a better alternative.

“What are you…?” You hesitate, rethinking your question. “What is that?”

“My bed.”

“Do you…always sleep there?”

“No,” he rasps, lowering himself onto the thick pelts. “I prefer to sleep in my room.”

He shoots you a pointed look, and you frown when the realisation sinks in.

“We—we can switch,” you say, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “I don’t want to impose.”

“No.”

“I insist.” You try again.

“As do I.”

You clamp your mouth shut, unsure of how to respond. Magnus has already dozed off—his soft snores filter through the heavy silence hanging over your heads.

“He’s lovely,” you suddenly say, referring to the quiescent hound. “Well-trained, too.”

“I won’t take credit for that,” Harry grumbles, rubbing his palms against his thighs. “He was a palace dog.”

You blink. “W-what?”

“A palace dog,” he repeats. “I found him alone in the woods after a hunt. His leg was broken—the guards left him there to die.”

“That’s awful.”

He hums in agreement.

“You took him in, then,” you say. When he nods, you add, “It seems that you have a knack for nursing others back to health.”

He doesn’t reply.

“The hunts—” you start, chewing nervously on your bottom lip. “Do they…occur frequently?”

“Why do you ask?” Harry says. His shoulders wobble with a hollow chuckle. “Are you afraid of being caught?”

You inhale sharply, and he realises that yes, you are.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. Subconsciously, his voice drops an octave, taking on a soothing quality. “They don’t come around often. And even if they did, I doubt that a single runaway lady would be of much concern.”

You blow out a relieved sigh, though the uneasy expression on your face never wanes.

“You’re probably right.”

A few hushed seconds draw out, during which neither of you speak. Your bare feet shuffle clumsily against the cold floor. You appear to be waiting for some sort of cue—a sound, a gesture, anything.

“Er—” Harry breaks the peace, cocking one eyebrow. “I sleep naked.”

“Oh.”

The exclamation is unbelievably breathless. Your throat bobs amidst a difficult swallow, and you totter back.

“Of course,” you stammer. “I’ll just—”

With a trembling hand, you motion toward the entrance of his bedroom.

He nods wordlessly.

“Right,” you mumble, retreating. “Goodnight, then…Bear.”

At that, he pauses. Your cheeks twitch with a feeble smile, but you don’t comment on the sweetness of the simple endearment.

Harry remains completely still as you scurry into his room. He sits there for a prolonged moment after the door shuts, trying to make sense of his thoughts. Your features have been stamped onto the backs of his eyelids, practically seared into the skin.

At last, warm air spills past his lips, and he allows himself to utter the low, relentless reply pulling at his tongue.

“Goodnight.”

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #uhhhh yeah so here u go. if this flops it never happened i guess #hunterry #harry writing

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oriigirii · 3 years

Text

💞 MC is a Genshin Simp 💞

=====

{ AN: Omg! This is my first ask so thank you anon (๑ↀᆺↀ๑)/!! This is such a vibe too haha, I hope you like it! } Warnings: None [Maybe Refs and Chars you wont get if you dont play Genshin Impact] * Probably a bit OOC too *

Reader: Gender-Neutral [Default]

( ⓛ ω ⓛ *)

========

< Genshin Impact was a game that took the human realm by storm, with its open-world gameplay, its competitive PvE and aesthatic settings, it was truly something that captured you the moment the beta was announced. Although, as with any Gacha games, you weren’t only attracted to the world and its setting.

No no.

The characters were truly the main eye candy of the game. You’d been worried that when you had been sucked into Devildom, you wouldn’t be able to access the game due to, yknow, realm differences, but luckily that wasn’t the case thanks to Levi, and hence why the moment it dropped, you had been spending your life savings simping for characters on every banner.

Yknow theres handsome bois in devildom too... Theyre just kinda waiting for you to put your game down for a moment and kinda notice em ～((Φ◇Φ)‡ >

------

ฅ⁽͑ ˚̀ ˙̭ ˚́ ⁾̉ฅ Lucifer

He usually doesn’t mind you playing games

Although, He would’ve preferred if you didn’t cause you kinda need to focus on your studies yknow?

But hey he’s not stopping you

Usually you would stay with him as he works, but he can’t seem to focus with you constantly begging beside him

Small little ‘please’ would be heard every now and then, and a sudden look of disappointment would show on your face.

He tried to ignore it, even giving little cues for you to quiet down, like clearing his throat

You didnt seem to pick up the hint though

He was just about to ask you what you were doing in the first place that has you praying beside him (which is hella rude) but your scream of happiness has him a little more irked and kinda taken back

“LUCIFER! I GOT HIM! LOOK LOOK I GOT HIM!”

You show him the screen showing your pull results

The character held a giant claymore with bright red hair

Before he can get another word in, you snatch your phone back and just sigh as if youd just had a heavenly (ironic) experience and mumble

“I seriously love him, Im so happy...”

Bro same though, Diluc pls come home

You were truly one of a kind, because youve just managed to break the Avatar of Pride’s... well.... Pride.

Did he just get cucked by a man in a video game?

Truly outrageous.

He seems to scoff and holds back a bit of an eye roll as he tries to focus back on his work

But boy oh boy, his salt is high

“If you are going to be causing a ruckus MC, May i suggest you doing it with Levi instead, I have no time for such games. I dont see why youre so caught up in such a character anyways, he looks quite basic.”

His words were sharp, and that was enough to shake you out of your fangirl/boy mode.

You were literally ready to fight the first born, a literal fucking fallen angel, for dissing Diluc like that

how dare

But then you notice how he seems to avoid your gaze and a small little red tint was on the tip of his ears.

Lucifer wouldve wanted to see you that happy with him, but no, a game character steals that spotlight.

Angey.

Instead of being intimidated by the sudden coldness, you giggle and finally close your phone and set it aside

You can continue celebrating and bragging about it later, for now, you wrap your arms around his arm and give him a small smooch on the cheek, which definitely makes him blush a tad bit

“Awww Luci dont be like that, Yknow I love you more”

Potential apocalypse has been diverted

But Lucifer does smile the smallest of smiles as he sighs, finding it silly to really get jealous over such a small thing and says

“I love you too, my dear... but you do have to make up for distracting me from my work...”

Well you kinda deserve it, so it wasnt long before both his work and your phone had been ditched

( After a while you do kinda see him quite similar to Diluc and it just makes you smile everytime you think about it, seems you have a thing for the strict cold men huh?)

===

Σ(‘◉⌓◉’) Mammon

Why you simping for a fictional character when you already have him?!

He’s your first man!

Your homie!

“Yeah well hes my first 5* so can you blame me?”

S A D N E S S

But for real, this man is just so clingy

He has heard from Levi that you were playing a new game from the human world, and of course, he had wanted to see what it was about by watching you play.

But since it was quite grind-heavy gacha game, he grew a bit bored and asked you to come with him to hang out somewhere else, or even go to the casino and gamble his money away cause he just got goldie back

But no matter what he suggests, you were just so focused on your grinding.

He’d prefer a different kinda grinding right about now with how lonely he is, ya feel me?

But no, you still werent interested.

“Oi! Cmon MC, whats even so important about this?”

“I already told you Mammon, Im grinding for primogems from the event! Theyre gonna be gone soon and I just HAVE to get them! Ugh I swear to Diavolo, if I dont, Imma cry! I didnt get him on their first banner too... ugh!”

Wait no--

Cmon he doesnt want you to cry!

Mammon kinda stays silent for a bit as he watches you struggle to fight the monsters with your low level team, frustration growing on your face.

But as you finish, Mammon seems to snatch your phone

“Hey! whats the big deal Mammon?!”

“Shut up and show me where the store is geez”

Mammon’s demands kinda surprises you and you raise an eyebrow at him, but you do show where it was, and sit back for a while as Mammon just fiddles around with it. You werent sure what he was doing honestly, was he interested? Did you say anything that made him act this way? All you talked about the game was the gacha system so--

oh…

“Mammon! Wait you dont have to---”

“There! I got you as much primo things, or whatever theyre called”

He already has tossed you your phone back and he crossed his arms, looking away as the red blush covers most of his cheeks.

You look at your phone and you honestly felt your heart speed up and stop at the same time at the amount of primos on your account, it was enough for a full 180 pull! If you dont get the limited character on the first 50-50, you have another shot!

You felt your own heart speed up and your face burn so hard, but you do mumble him a quick “But... But why though?”

“Cuz! If you start cryin’ Lucifer’s gonna beat my ass! Dont think I did it for you, you human! I just dont want him taking away Goldie again!”

“But I thought this was your gambling money, isnt it?”

“w-well!... I mean... Hmph.. Gachas kinda like gambling right?, I know Lucifers gonna hang me if he catches me in the casino again anyways, so I thought I might as well just do this... with you...or whatever...” Hes dying, help

But so are you!

Hes too fucking cute and you just glomp him and just hug him as tight as you can!!

Flusterred boi 100

But you do spend you afternoon on his lap, both of you rolling the full 180 in excitement, whether you get that boi/gal you simped for on the banner or not, you still were happy to spend some time with Mammon

He doesnt mind losing a bit of cash for you

but you do promise to pay him back (maybe with a few kissy)

But to be honest, Gacha probably will help him with his gambling addiction...

kinda...

He doesnt go to casinos anymore but he does whale with you now

Lucifer has such a mix feeling with these results.

But he still confiscates Goldie and your card on the end, yall need to chill.

====

ヽ(。_°)ノ Leviathan

He probably wasn’t even interested on the game at first

He already has enough games to play, and it just looks like another rip off of some other game he saw not too long ago with that elf looking guy

But when you came to him asking for his help to get the game, you bet your ass that he felt a switch click

Suddenly it was incredibly interesting!

You do share your interests to him almost immediately

By interests, of course i mean the peeps you simp for

The sexy ara ara in the library of mondstat, the pirate looking ass of the guards, the pirate looking ass’s brother thats a wine owner and still highkey reminds you of Lucifer, the demon slayer--- You were actually unsure if you should talk about Xiao but hey hes cool

You explain it all!

From their lore to their voice lines and whatever

But honestly what do you expect from the Avatar of Envy?

Of course hes gonna be a bit jealous! He cant compare to any of these characters! Hes not as witty as that eye patch man, hes not as sophisticated as that red head, hes not as flirty as that ara ara either!

As you go on, you notice that Levi was kinda... half listening....

It made you pout, but then, it made you worried

Uh-oh you know that look

its that, ‘im overthinking’ look

So to snap him out of it, you kinda grab his face as gently as you can

“Need Grimm for your thoughts?”

He flushes and he immediately looks away, but you usher him to look at you as you coo and ask him whats wrong

It takes a bit till he kinda explains to you how hes feeling

In your relationship, you both were practicing being more open with each other, hence why you were proud of Levi for saying it

but you did feel kinda sad and frowned as he finishes explaining

“You... feel jealous?”

“Ugh d-dont say it out loud normie....”

He covers his face with his arm and you just cant help but shake your head with a fond smile, but you do need to address this and comfort him.

“Levi... when you fanboy about Ruri chan, did you ever think she was better than me?”

Your question made him frown and look at you in absolute worry

Did you actually think that you were below Ruri chan?

Of course hes an absolute simp for Ruri but.. cmon

Now that he thinks about it, he does talk about her a lot doesnt he? oh no...

“MC O-Of course not! I love Ruri chan yes, but you... I... I Love... you more...” Levi exe do be dying

But you smile at his response and gently kisses his cheek

“I think thats sweet Levi... But thats how I am too... Youre still better than any of these characters, youre real and they arent, youre mine and I am yours~ Youre my personal 5 star!” You wink at him and Levi just dips

his heart couldnt handle the cuteness and he died, ladies and gentlemen

but for real he did pass out

Must be from all the blood on his head from the blush

But ah, he does get it, and after being showered with love from you, He kinda slowly got over his jealousy

its not immediate but with simple reassurances, you can manage to reel him in and have fun with you

He does end up enjoying the game cause he gets to spend time with you, and he gets to show off when events happen

He also goes out of his way to memorize locations for materials for you, and when youre sick or busy, he pilots your account

true gamer

But ironically enough hed probably start simping for a character too and of course, you both start bonding over that, which just makes Levi absolutely happy

I wonder if hed simp for Barbara, she is an idol afterall like Ruri chan

Probably lowkey for now

Afterall she looks like a minor so-----

( I dunno i searched shes 16-18 lol )

But regardless, I can imagine you both just cosplaying each others fav characters too

Its a wack looking ship cosplay but yall just simp for each other cause of it, its pretty fun but the rest of the brothers just finds it hella weird

----

I only have energy for these 3 as always, Im sorry! But i promise Ill do the rest!! I hope you guys do enjoy, and Id love some feedback on the characters personalities cause I know they can be a bit Ooc, But feel free to send me an ask! Im pretty open lol 〜(￣△￣〜)

#Obey me #Obey me x reader #Obey me x mc #Obey me shall we date #obey me Mammon x reader #Obey me Lucifer x reader #Obey me Leviathan x reader #Obey me fanfic #Obey me HCs #anon request

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issaxcharlie · 3 years

Text

Owen hosts Couple tag

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Artist Fem Reader

Summary: We play pretend world guys✨ (I missed them, I’m SoRryyyy.) So, Charlie wants some reassurance after starting to prepare his proposal to Y/N and makes this “genius” plan with Owen to find her answers without being suspicious. (She totally knows tho) also a lot of friendship fighting between Owen and Y/N because I had to, I made myself laugh a lot so I’ll hope at least makes you smile🤧🤣Anyways, have fun!

This is also my weird and nonsense way of doing sweet @marvel-ousnesss request of the we play pretend couple to do a couple buzzfeed quiz 💖

The blonde takes a deep breath before picking up his phone and heading to the living room, where his couple of friends and roommates are on the couch. Charlie is lying down watching television and Y/N is lying on top of him with her face snuggled into his neck, he hugging her around the waist while gently running his fingers down her skin.

The plan was simple, to help Charlie plan the perfect proposal and give him an idea of what she expects from her wedding, they were doing a “Couple tag” video. That way the questions wouldn’t be as suspicious. Of course, there are easier ways but we are talking about Charlie. They convinced Kenny to call her and tell her that it was to promote the second season that is currently being filmed, and she agreed.

Charlie mentioned many times that someone else had to ask her the questions because she reads her boyfriend like an open book, so his improvisation had to be perfect to keep his best friend’s clever girlfriend out of the hook.

He decided to start the live from his room so as not to give the singer the opportunity to think much about it, so he sits in the living room and focuses the image on his friends who are not affected in the least by their positions. After all, everyone already knows that they are a couple and that they live together.

“Hello, I’m Y/N Y/L! And yes, that sexy, beautiful, adorable and talented man is my boyfriend, Charlie Gillespie.” He blushes as the memory of their first night back as a couple invades the mind of the Canadian, who had his girlfriend in exactly this position when she was, as she said, 'practicing' her introduction. Sadly, this time it will not end like that night because his best friend and about 500,000 people are watching.

“Welcome to my first edition of the Couple tag everyone! Here's my first guest couple, I know it’s not much, but I promise to find someone worthwhile next time, this is just for practice." Charlie laughs but looks nervous. Instead, his girlfriend sits down and rolls her eyes.

"I can't believe you chose him over a puppy or a hamster." The girl says to her boyfriend while laughing at her friend's offended reaction.

“I'm going to write that down in my long enemies list, but for now I have a live to lead. Okay guys, so basically I will ask them questions and I will also choose who answers them because I’m the only one hot enough to call the shots here."

She laughs and sticks out her tongue. Charlie sits down too and she takes his hand to fiddle with it. She keeps arguing for a few minutes with Owen but shows no signs of not wanting to play the game so he starts before she regrets it.

“Okay, first one is for Charlie. How did you guys met? This is actually a good one because a lot of the fans think you met on set and are like this really intense couple who started to date the very first week without even knowing each other’s last names.”

They both start laughing at the comment. The truth is that they have seen multiple posts and comments online from people judging their relationship and how fast they were going, especially when they did that last interview together and Y/N said that Charlie was taking his sweet time to ask for marriage, since for the fans they only have one year and months of knowing each other.

“We have known each other since forever. Our moms were best friends and we were born only a few weeks apart so we've always been together. We grew up as best friends and were dating before Y/N moved to New York to play Daniela on Stardust." Charlie tries to shake off the memory of the last tearful kiss before Y/N got on the plane. Hopefully he’ll never have to part from her for so long again. Sometimes he can't even understand how he managed to get through those 5 years.

"So no, we don't know each other for just one year, but 22." She adds, kissing his nose.

"Y/N, honey. I didn't ask you, don't be rude and wait for your turn." Owen says teasingly, the girl laughs and throws a pillow at him.

“Okay, rude again. Y/N, What is the first thing that he ever gave you?”

“Oh my, this beautiful valentines card! We were like eight I think. The paper is red, and it is filled with gold and silver glitter stars. Inside is a big star that has written in the middle, “My bright star, happy valentine’s day. I love you. And a lot of doodles of my favorite things, like my guitar, a microphone, chocolate, and a little Charlie. Just adorable, I still have it and to date it is one of my favorite gifts.”

The emotion with which she responds makes Charlie's heart melt. That was the first time he called her bright star, and he kept saying it to her during every audition, every performance, every practice. The exact reason not even she knows, but maybe one of these days he'll tell her.

“Rude and a liar. The 22-year-old Charlie's handwriting is horrible, the 8-year-old Charlie handwriting could only be close to a squiggle, nothing more. Oh, and probably only you had the ability to read it. I very much doubt that was beautiful."

She opens her mouth in surprise and wrinkles her nose, feigning annoyance. “I liked you more when you had a crush on me. You were nicer.”

Owen's eyes widen and he turns to see Charlie looking for help but he just starts laughing. “Wh- What are you talking about, mean girl?”

“Oh c’mon, you totally did, Ohio.” She smiles at the camara while showing a superiority face.

“Really? I already told you a thousand times, I'm from Oklahoma. But hey, how funny, forget about Stardust and audition for Funny Girl!”

“Jokes on you, I would nail Fanny Brice.”

“Man, defend my honor!”

“Bro, I can’t. You totally did, I even got worried for a second there.” It is incredible to think about how their friendship has grown and matured over time. They went from Owen fangirling every time he saw her to being really good friends. All these fights are more of a show than anything else, the truth is that when nobody is recording they tend to be very cool around each other and the three of them have quite a pleasant dynamic now that they are living together for the show.

“I won, Idaho. Now, please continue.”

“Well, my friends embarrassed me on my own live. I can already imagine the headlines tomorrow. Anyways, Charlie, Would you let yourself in danger to save her?”

Charlie starts laughing as he drops his head on the girl's shoulder. "I think she's not going to let me lie, I always have and will continue to do so. For me it's always her safety first."

"Which has given me more than a scare but he's so freakin stubborn." She adds while looking stressed and Owen can't help but imagine all the situations Charlie must have put himself in before.

“I prefer you scared than in danger, beautiful.” He grins and kiss her lips, her facial expresions relaxing at his touch.

“Gross. Y/N, do you prefer a small wedding or a big wedding?” She can feel Charlie tense at the question, so she leans her body back to support it against him and give him a lowkey reassurance.

“I hadn't really thought about it, but I know that my almost mother-in-law has been planning it all her life so you should check with her.”

His mom. Y/N is right, as always. His mom is their biggest shipper and the wedding is probably something she’ll want to be an importart part of, maybe way more than with his brothers since she adores the girl as much as her own kids, and the fact that his girlfriend is even more aware of that fact than him makes him smile.

“Do you love it when someone refers you as ‘her boyfriend’?”

“Always. Especially if it's her. She has that little knack of saying it whenever she can and it’s the most adorable thing in the world.”

“Oh I thought she was just showing it off to me because she was intimidated by our chemistry. I don't feel so special anymore.” Charlie chuckles and sends a secret air kiss to his friend, who just smirks and fakes to blush.

“How would you handle it if you thought another man was hitting on her?” Owen asks the guitarist raising an eyebrow.

“She usually takes care of that situations, her method is to take me by the shirt and kiss me hard on the lips. I’m never going to complain about that.” Charlie says smirking and blushing.

“We are a celebrity couple, for better or for worse. I’m not having him in a fight when I can just kiss that beautiful lips and solve the problem.” Charlie smiles as he wraps his girlfriend in his arms, so she can't see his face with the next question.

“What do you dream of your marriage? Mmm, let’s go with Y/N.”

“Anything will be perfect if I spend it with the man of my life. My Char is my everything and my biggest dream is to live my whole life laughing by his side.” Owen pretends to vomit as Charlie fills her with kisses under the ear, clearly moved by her answer.

“Let’s get to someting less cheesy because I really can’t with you both anymore. Has anyone ever tried to break your relationship?”

Charlie rolls his eyes and thinks for a moment. “Yes. We were like seventeen, and this guy from hockey had this big crush on her, so he tried to flirt with her many times even though everyone knew she was my girlfriend, until one day that he made her too uncomfortable and things escalated between him and me. Luckily my brothers intervened before something else happened because he was much bigger than me. I would have totally lost.” He chuckles while his girlfriend turns to see his face and gives him another sweet kiss on the corner of his lips.

“Yes guys, they are this annoying all the time. How do I survive? A lot of yoga. Next question, If three guys are standing, and you have been blindfolded, then how would you recognize him? Guys we actually did this like three days ago on set.”

“It was awesome! We put my bandana on her eyes and since it had my smell she couldn't be guided by that to choose.” Charlie explains excited.

“We got the three of us, first Jeremy then Charlie and then me in front of her, then she began to lightly touch Jer's hand. Then she went to Charlie's, it didn't take her a minute to recognize him and she took him from the hair and draw him to her lips, it was actually a pretty smooth and risky move, I’ll give you a point for that, prodigy brat.”

“Char's body inadvertently reacts to mine. It was pretty easy to tell the difference, especially after touching Jeremy's hand.” She turns her head to give Charlie a soft kiss on the lips and then Owen starts laughing like crazy and telling her to come see a specific comment.

She gets up and goes to sit next to him, Owen changes the camera so that now they are the ones in the image and she begins to read aloud. “Charlie I could give you my... Oh my god!” Owen continues laughing, resting his head on his friend who simply watches the screen in shock.

“Thank god Charlie doesn’t know how to read.” Owen, who was just recovering from his giggling fit, laughs again as Charlie giggles and sticks his tongue out at his girlfriend.

"Who needs to read when you look this hot with sleeveless shirts." He jokes while winking at his partner, which seems to melt in front of the camera that is still pointing directly at her.

“The man has a point. Okay, Y/N move your ass back there I’m still in charge of this show. Would you prefer a silver or gold ring?”

She makes sure to move off the screen and sticks her middlefinger at Owen before heading back to her place with her boyfriend. “Good and really random question.” She smirks, not making contact with her boyfriend. “I don't have a preference, but I would love Char to design it. Obviously with the correct guidance, but yeah he choosing every detail and then explaining to me why he choose it would be the dream.”

Charlie smiles. He was already imagining something like this after so many years of gifting and has already been visiting the jewelry store several times to make sure he designed the perfect ring for his girl, a slight feeling of pride filling him.

“Which series does she thinks resembles your relationship?”

“She loves Boy Meets World and see a lot of us in Cory and Topanga. I can totally see it too, after all they too have known each other their whole lives and have a bond as strong as ours.”

“Well that explains why she’s always telling me ‘Life is though, get a helmet’ instead of actually help me.” She grins at the memory of Charlie’s last prank on Owen a couple of days ago, it was really good since she secretly helped him plan it.

“Man, It wasn’t personal. I do the same with Char. I’m not going to be known for being the one ruining prank war. Take it to the end of the road, if you need me to take you idiots out of jail I totally will... eventually.”

“My girl, everyone. Isn’t she awesome?” He watches her adoringly and she blushes in response, buring her head on his neck.

“She always has this enormous energy and personality but all it takes is for you to see her for her to melt, that’s... kind of cute actually. Okay next question Stardust, What about If Charlie tells you to marry him tomorrow?”

For the thousandth time that night Y/N can feel Charlie stressing out. The fact that he planned together with Owen and Kenny all of this just to make sure he was on the same page with her is the most adorable thing in the world.

“I’m pretty sure he knows I would always say yes. He could have gotten on a plane when we were 18 and told me ‘I don't want to be without you, let's get married.’ And I would have said yes. He’s my person, I have nothing to think about, I have always known it’s him."

Now it's Charlie's turn to melt, and Owen himself can't help but smile.

Charlie's confidence in what he has planned is higher than ever, and the day when he can finally make it official is near. He has been dreaming of this day with his Y/N for years and he will finally get it.

“Well guys, that was it, give it up to my favorite couple of dumbasses and please stop asking obvious questions. Will I be Y/N’s maid of honor? Of course I will. Oh, and tune in next week to see me becoming Kenny’s new favorite after I challenge Y/N in a dance duel with I got the music. Golden star is GOING DOWN."

Thank you for reading✨

NEXT PART HERE

Taglist: @writerinlearning, @ghostofmgg @strangerthanfanfiction713, @thebloodthirstyvampress @kinda-really-lost, @kcd15, @magnet-girl, @aliandthephantoms, @stxrkspidey, @pinkrockstar19, @s0uz4s, @shycupcakealissa @cookiebuba, @fangirlangioma, @sageellsworth05, @twist3dtinkerbell, @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve, @caitsymichelle13 , @ifilwtmfc, @luckylouiebug, @bibliophilewednesday, @totomoshi, @siennanoelle01, @lunashadow6955, @bookfrog247, @morganayennefertyrell, @kiss-themoongoodbye, @rachelle3musicals, @imsydneywalker, @really-dont-forget-it @agentstarkid @talksoprettyjjx @kaitieskidmore1 @lukeys-giggle @katie-navarro @crybabyddl @cocopuffs0211 @marvel-ousnesss @blackhood5sos @dpaccione @tuttigunner

#charlie gillespie fic #charlie gillespie imagines #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie fanfic #charlie gillespie one shot #jatp one shot #jatp fanfic #jatp luke #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #luke patterson fanfiction

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archetypal-archivist · 3 years

Text

Tommyinnit and Hermitcraft- Heartstone P.2

So, a little while back I wrote piece titled Tommyinnit and Hermitcraft- Heartstone (linked here) which was inspired by the works of @petrichormeraki and @redorich, who popularized the AU of Tommyinnit from the Dream SMP getting dropped into Hermitcraft somehow and summarily getting adopted by the entire server. I, in my infinite wisdom, decided “yes, but also angst” and spat out a solid 1500+ words with a cliffhanger at the end because it was getting ridiculous and I had yet more to write. This is another 1500+ words of continuation.

-----

It's not easy, knowing things. Joe knows more things than most, and oh, how it eats at him sometimes. He jokes with Cleo that between the two of them and their dogs, they are perhaps the leading experts on being chewed on, but she never laughs at that joke. He can't help but wonder why, his thoughts drifting as he lies still and silent in her arms, curled up together on his bed in the winery. Her orange hair tickles his nose as he moves to bury his face in her shoulder a bit more, her cool breath ghosting over the sticky tear tracks that still line his cheeks. All the things that remain unsaid lie between them, but their silent agreement binds them together tighter still. And indeed silence is the name of the game, however much he wishes it wasn't necessary- everything will work out in due time, he knows. But oh, how it aches that he can't say anything more on the matter, not even to her.

"Cleo?" The zombie woman makes a soft inquiring noise, politely ignoring how his voice cracks on the syllables. "Are we doing the right thing?" Her grip tightens again, almost crushingly so, and Joe goes limp at the implied rebuke. Be it right or wrong, his silence must be ensured- he knows so much that if he said anything, it'd all come pouring out. A real modern-day Cassandra, verbal fountain and harbinger of doom in one. No, best to stay cryptic when he can and silent when he can't- and if even his silence fails, Cleo is there, sword in hand, ready to keep him quiet.

He should not take comfort from that. But here, wrapped up in his best friend's embrace, utterly at her mercy and all the safer for it... He does anyway.

-----

Joe and Cleo aren't in a romantic relationship, but it would not be amiss to call them platonic life partners in this universe. Joe has been seeing things for as long as he can remember, the exact mechanics are strange and baffling at best, and if he tries to actually do any Science to figure out how this stuff works, the magic changes to spite him. It's led to a lot of unfortunate visions of peanut butter and how the server generally tends to misuse the stuff (Etho sometimes using it instead of slime in a sticky piston is a milder example), so after enough peanut visions to make him allergic on principle, Joe tends to just let the visions come as they may. The only hard-coded bit that comes with them is that anyone living who hears his prophecies won't believe them and will have something bad happen to them as a result. Cleo, being a zombie, is a special exception to the rule. She's only alive in the most technical of senses, so while bad things still happen to her if she hears Joe speak about his experiences, she at least will believe him.

Which is why she is so determined to not know more about whatever is going on with Tommy. When Joe had rushed in a month ago, tears streaming down his cheeks and glasses barely hanging onto his face, she had merely put down the book she had been reading and had opened her arms wide to him. Convincing him that she would not betray his trust or break his heart had been hard, but she had known it was worth it. How can it be anything but, when Joe had looked at her then as if she was the most precious being on the planet and had immediately thrown himself into her arms, bursting out into troubled tears? He offered to tell her the full story, eyes wet and longing, and her long-dead heart ached at the trust he is giving her- but she is far too selfish to give that up. So she had turned him down, smile on her lips.

Even when he whispered, voice hoarse, that they wouldn't be seeing Tommy for a while. Even when he shuddered and shook in her arms, fragile as glass in her grip. Even when he begged her to ask, just ask, please, it's too much... She did not ask. If she asked, he would tell her, and then she would be hurt and his heart would break because it would be his words that had hurt her. She would not, cannot, will never inflict that upon him, or let him inflict that upon anyone else. (Of all the heads in her collection, the one she has most of is Joe's.)

She simply asks him if there will be a satisfying ending, and when he says yes, she asks no more. Everything will be okay, in the end. So long as there is that much, so long as she has Joe in her arms and the comfortable silence stretches out between them, then she will be content.

(At the foot of their bed, deep in Joe's winery where the barking is muffled and the light cannot touch them, there lies a chest of heads. Inside it, nestled among the many faces of the dead, rests an old iron sword bearing the name Hush. It's blade is rusty from disuse, but if Cleo ever decides that she isn't satisfied, well. There are ways of dealing with that.)

(Things will be okay. She'll make sure of it.)

-----

Philza was no stranger to death. A veteran of a hardcore world, where even the very earth was out to kill him, he had seen his fair share of deaths and had dealt out even more. Usually just to the local mobs and wildlife, but there was still the occasional player dropped into his world by the cruel hands of the Void as a sort of "apology" for leaving him alone, bereft of his sons. As if some random strangers could ever fill the Void in his heart.

Most of them had wandered off upon seeing him, more interested in escape than any companionship he could offer them, and he'd inevitably see their death messages in the otherwise silent chat a few days later. Others would approach him, some curious, some desperate for kindness- he gave them none, was often intentionally cruel just to drive them away. He had the Void in his heart and the Void had him, and he ached and ached for what he could not have. Anything less would be a pale imitation, a mockery of the love he was desperate to return to. He tried not to think about how those kind strangers would also come to meet their ends, often more messily than those that had decided to leave him be to begin with.

Then there were the rare few with... less than gentle intentions. (Blood for the Blood gods, no matter the universe.)

Theirs were the deaths he regretted the least, but the blood still gave him nightmares. For all that he loved his sons, he never understood their love for glory, be it found in conquering other nations or the sticky ooze of a dying foe. Maybe that's why he had spent so much of his time with his elder sons when he returned, the Void finally releasing him from his hardcore prison. Just a father's attempt at understanding, even if it left his youngest at loose ends.

But the problem with loose ends, he had come to find, is that the world had a way of setting them to rights- either by tying them back into the grand narrative, or by cutting them out entirely. For months after Dream had come to him, apology on his lips and charred shoe in hand, he had believed that Tommy's fate had been the latter. He had mourned his son as if such was the case, weeping openly at the news for the first time in years. (He wasn't the only one, though- Technoblade was an only child now and he was not taking it well.) It was only when Tubbo came to him with his compass to ask about its ever-spinning needle that he felt a spark of hope, for a compass that spun was not a compass linked to a dead soul- simply a lost one. Such hope was justified when, six months later, Technoblade burst into his house with a snarl on his lips and a smile in his eyes. Tommy had returned.

And as Phil stood, back straightening and wings spread wide, hope bloomed in his chest like hanahaki, choking him with love right down to his core. Tommy had returned, despite everything.

And Philza would not let him go again.

-----

For all that Tommy might have been... gone for at least a month now on the Hermitcraft server and life has significantly slowed down for all involved, by no means has it stopped entirely. The shops are still stocked, the torches are replaced when the old ones burn out, Hermits still go out and see each other, if less often than before. Xisuma, in fact, instates a series of mandatory meetings every week or so as a way of making sure that everyone is still alive- a bit of reassurance that no one else has died in the time interim. Even the hermits who prefer to keep to themselves show up, such as Tinfoilchef, Joe, and Cleo, although the latter two remain distinctly separate from everyone else on the server during the meetings, their refusal to take a side alienating them from the rest. Grian, broken though he may be, also comes, usually in the arms of Iskall or with a vacant smile on his face depending on the state of his mental health on the given day. His presence is also alienating, as most of the hermits don't quite know what to say around him and thus will give him and Iskall a bubble of space to themselves during the meetings. Mumbo is the only one to cross the divide, standing loomingly tall at Iskall's back, as if daring anyone to say something potentially hurtful to either of his friends.

Frankly, the entire concept of weekly meetings is a bit of a mess. Xisuma stands at the front with Keralis at his back, voice and posture more and more tired with every meeting and Keralis standing just a bit closer, a silent show of support (ready if his admin ever needs some physical support too). The prognosis is usually a mix of dull stuff and hopeless stuff- lag is better than it has been in years, the Chestmonster shop is out again, Tommy still has not been... found. It's not exciting exactly, but the tension during the reporting stage is palpable as everyone waits to hear if something else has gone wrong. It's a bit like being on the front lines- horrible, drawn-out minutes of tedium as everyone holds their breath, waiting to see if another bombshell will drop but knowing that they have to be there, because some warning is infinitely better than seeing a death message in chat one day and not knowing if that person will ever make it back.

In addition to this is the tension that comes from the server being split in three- the believers, the mourners, and those too damaged or too caught up in their own narratives or too neutral to swing to one side or the other.

The meetings are where the most near-fights happen, and Xisuma is so, so tired of having to be the sane one these days. (The benefit of a helmet, he's come to find, is that no one can see you cry.)

(He doesn't take it off much anymore.)

-----

It's after one such meeting that Zedaph finds himself cooped up in his base, eyes burning with unshed tears and feet dangling out into the Void as he sits at the bottom of the hole in his base, the one that goes straight to bedrock and then even further still. The chill is a welcome distraction from his own inner turmoil, and for all that it's dangerous to be sitting so near to the edge of the world, he can't find it in himself to move away form its cold comfort. After all, Tommy can't have died permanently, right? So sitting there is perfectly safe. He has to believe that. He has to.

The meetings are tough on everyone, but sometimes Zedaph wonders if they are a bit worse for him than they are for the rest. It can't be normal that the first thing he does after every meeting is burst into panicked tears as soon as he gets back to his base, as he's certainly never felt such deep fear and relief after the meetings they had before the Incident. And yet, as soon as the iron door of his base sncks shut behind him, he drops down into the Void hole, sits at the edge, and bawls his eyes out. It's kinda funny- he's shed more tears in the last month than he has in his entire life so far. And all for a boy he had known for less than a year.

During this particular day, however, something odd happens. When he sits down for a good cry, it feels like there's the slightest of breezes coming off the Void beneath his feet, chilling him right down to his bones. It's cold, yes, but a welcome relief as he feels a bit like he's burning up from the inside out. Every moment he spends with Tango and Impulse is stifling, as with them he has to shove himself into a hateful mold he never wanted for himself. He doesn't like being angry, and being angry alongside his best friends is hardly any better. If he had it his way, he would have curled up in bed and simply slept the horror away, only waking when the nightmare was over and he could go play mini golf and Among Us with Tango, Impulse, and Tommy again. Instead, his love for his friends demands that he supports them in all their endeavors, even if their goals these days seem to run a little closer to "get them all killed" than is comfortable.

But yes. The breeze. It feels like ice on his skin and sends every nerve in his legs buzzing. It has a distinct smell to it too, like TV static, ozone, and that sensation you get after you brush your teeth and go take a big gulp of cold water. It's... odd. But vaguely comforting. And as the tears finally well up in his eyes and drip down his cheeks, as he lets himself sob for all the friends- both new and old- he's lost, he finds that it's exactly what he needs.

And if Zedaph would only listen a little closer, let himself see beyond his broken heart, perhaps he would hear the whisper on the wind, too.

Everything will be okay. I'll make sure of it.

-----

Evil X has his own troubles to deal with. He had been present when Tommy had died, if watching from the wrong side of their dimension. Lost in the Void with nothing better to do, he had often found himself watching his friend go about his day. With space and time being as screwy as they were in the Void, he could find himself taking three steps and then would be watching Tommy go from sleeping over at BDub's base to having "breakfast" with Rendog. So when Grian and Tommy had gone out End-busting that fateful day, of course he had been watching. And that was all he could do- watch- as he saw his best friend fall to his apparent death, that little line of code that signaled "perma-death" flashing once, twice, and then glowing a deep, ominous red.

But that wasn't the end of it, even as his dull and bruised heart stuttered in his chest at the sight.

Like a redstone pulse lighting up everything around it, that red glow set off a cascading chain reaction that rippled up and down Tommy's code until it eventually trailed out to wherever his code stretched out into the Void. There, it must have severed something because before he could even call for help, his friend's code yanked inwards and away, slingshotting the whole mess into the distant darkness beyond, leaving naught but a vague impression on the inside of his eyelids behind. It was... awful. One of the scariest things he had ever seen, perhaps second only to watching his brother, stern-faced and cold, send him off to the Void once again. But for all that it hurt to see that red glow and watch in mute horror as the server he had once tried to destroy shake itself apart at the seams, there was still hope.

The code was gone, yes, but not unraveled, not destroyed. Merely... transported. Moved. Like a file being sent from one computer to another, or a player teleporting between servers. Tommy's code vanishing like that was cause for alarm, yes, but somewhere out there in the vastness of the Void, it lingered still- and it had left a faint impression of itself in its wake. That meant there was hope.

Evil X- and by proxy, his twin Xisuma- were voidwalkers, beings specifically designed to see, understand, and even modify the world's code. Were he anything else, he surely would have perished by now, his consciousness scattered across the Void as it was. And having been in exile for so long, he had gotten to be adept at seeing the seams between worlds and reading the truths of existence as the Void had intended for her children. If anyone could follow that faint trail, could get Tommy back, it would be him.

For the first time in a long time, Evil X had hope. And hope is a vicious motivator indeed.

-----

TBC :)

#fanfiction #my writing #minecraft #dream smp #hermitcraft #hermit tommy au #heartstone #i'm pretty pleased with this

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nicadilly · 3 years

Note

what are your opinions on the other courtiers? (esp volta)

Omg thank you for the ask, ill do my best nons. Some of these come easier than others, and im fully aware my takes might be weird/unpopular but as long as im having a blast i think its fine. And im just riffing btw, not following any specific format:

Volta

She celebrates not getting kicked or pushed by anyone... I feel like that's pretty telling of her being a very punished/tragic character. But she also disrespects Vulgora and fights them back, so she can’t be completely helpless. I personally adore the idea of Volta being like a mongoose - will destroy you given the chance (literally. Super potent digestive juices? corrosive saliva? Teeth that never seem to end when you look into her mouth? All checked in my book. I'm thinking Pennywise's mouth from “IT” remakes or a sea turtle's mouth)

And YEAH she could mess up Valdemar, controversial opinion ik. They just get sucked in like spaghetti and DIE knowing the “weakest” of the demons was a herald of their demise >:)

Vlastomil

Basically always snooty and prone to blaming others for everything wrong in his life. Even when he’s hyping about the study of invertebrates, he manages to shade you and be patronizing... At the same time though, he is very zesty. Fun conversation partner and the best associate if you manage to get in his good graces. I also hc him to have ambiguous genitalia, and YES if you cut him in half there will be two Vlastomils :) just like earthworms. Overall a lot of cool wormy features that people pick up on overtime. I feel like some will disagree but I always saw him as a “chaotic neutral” kind of char. Should be evil, yes. But he’s just too fun and lovable imo. Like a snarky professor you weirdly like and respect. He’s also a bottom on a mission. Get it peepaw.

Vulgora

DEVS. DID. VULGORA. DIRTY. And I, for one, love it. No matter how you look at their patron arcana - Vulgora is fucked. If it was always their patron, I don't blame them for making a pact with the devil. Trying to avoid great pain, upheaval and loss seems natural. They are the courtier I would want to get lore on THE MOST. I want to know how their life was before “the demoning” sooo bad. As for their disposition - fun. Frenemies with Lucio, threatens Valdemar, doesn't realize they’re always screaming... just a fun little dude (gnc). I mentioned before that I defo see them doing public beheadings, ancient rome style (they’re the leader of the guard, a high ranking noble... they probably are doing it and its legal). As I said. Fun.

Also they hold the highest score in the game of “push Volta off the stairs”. Valdemar comes in 2nd.

Valerius

I honestly don't feel like I can do Val justice. That's all on @c0nsul-valerius. I will try tho! He’s always been torn between actually wanting to do good and upholding his own reputation/pride no matter the cost. The moment his rep is on the line, everything gets sidelined; relationships, acquaintances, morals. It’s delicious how he’s fleshed out in Nadia's route, just that one encounter, seeing how warped and disgusting he became, how ashamed of it all he is - i really want to see that vulnerability again, get to “crack him open” in a way and see how he would be when there's no obligations, work, or masks being put on for the public.

Valdemar

I have... too many hc’s and theories. I would love to overshare in the future! For this post though I'll try to keep it brief. I think people give Valdemar TOO MUCH CREDIT. An amnesiac apprentice, fresh out of the nest manages to kick their pathetic concave ass time and again. And while the apprentice is made to be OP in game, one would think an ancient demon, capable of raising cities, fallen armies and planning to challenge the devil would easily handle an inexperienced magician (and a redhead armed with a chair) but instead they always abscond. Sure, it could be them just going “LOL” and running off to irk people, but Lucio and Julian routes show them to be rattled by getting SLIGHTLY CHAFED. WIMPDEMAR REAL, DESERVES TO BE JOSTLED. They are on the spectrum and mask it so-so, loves a good stimmy. ALSO - MASSIVE HYPOCHONDRIAC, even tho they cant really get sick anymore. Obsessed with disinfecting everything and everyone.

#the arcana hc #arcana imagines #the arcana courtiers #the arcana #the arcana game #hcs #the courtiers #procurator volta #pontifex vulgora #praetor vlastomil #consul valerius #quaestor valdemar #remembering that post abt valdemar being dumb as rocks #im in that team #punished valdemar fandom #if anyone wants to break every single bone in their plank body hey #shake my gnarled witch hand

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bibbawrites · 3 years

Text

First Man - Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Request: NONE

Word Count: 1735 words

Summary: the song First Man by Camila Cabello but make it about Charlie Gillespie

Warnings: i think theres one swear word and thats all ?

A/N: so i had originally written this for another fandom that i am no longer in but i decided to change it to charlie cause why not this is literally just the song first man by camila cabello, so go listen to that if you dont know it haha again i tried to make this gender neutral but i may have messed up at one point so if i did im very sorry anyways hope you enjoy this little fluffy piece

Tag List: @happinessinthedarkesttimes @littlemissaddict @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @headheartbellarke @lovesanimals @bartok-the-bat @juliefromaustralia @multi-universe21 @rangerelik

Winter 2019

It was a mild Winter's afternoon in LA. You walked down the stairs of your family home, bag in hand, smiling when you spotted your family sitting around the table, a board game in the middle.

"Y/N! Come join us!" Your mum called when she spotted you enter the room. You shook your head.

"Maybe another time, sorry guys. I'm actually just heading out, I'm gonna stay with Charlie tonight... is that okay?" Your father sighed before nodding.

"When will we get to meet this Charlie boy that we hear so much about?" He asked, standing up to walk over to you. You shrugged.

"I'm not too sure, but it will be soon, I promise." You grinned. Your little sister looked up from the game board.

"What's he like Y/N?" She asked, looking at you intently. A soft smile appeared on your face at the thought of your boyfriend.

"He's really sweet. He's funny, just like you Dad. He’s not super tall but it doesn’t even matter. And he loves dragging me along on hikes." You paused.

"I really like him." You finished. Your dad frowned slightly, but hid it quickly.

"That's nice to hear darling. Don't forget a jacket, okay?" He told you. You looked at your father knowingly. He had been like this with every boy you’d ever brought home, not that you'd brought home tons of boys before.

"No it's okay, it’s not that cold outside today. Besides, he's waiting outside for me." You said, glancing down at your phone to see the text from Charlie.

'I'm here' it read. You looked back up again, noticing your father watching you. He stepped closer, pulling you into a hug.

"Don't freak out Dad, I'll be fine." You assured him. He squeezed you tightly.

"I just worry about you." You smiled, pulling away.

"I know, I get that. But I'm an adult now Dad. I got this."

"I know, I know." He sighed. By now the rest of the family had gone back to their game.

You patted your dad on the chest before turning to leave, stopping when your hand touched the doorknob. You turned back around to face your father.

"Just remember Dad, you were the first man that really loved me." And with that you turned back to the door and left, leaving your dad to smile sadly. His little baby was growing up.

Summer 2020

It was Summer and you and Charlie had a few days off from work. You had decided to head back to LA together, to visit your family. After all, you had been dating for over a year and Charlie still hadn't met your family yet. The family that you spoke so highly of.

You touched down at LAX and made your way through security quickly.

"You ready?" You asked, holding tightly to Charlie's hand as you made your way to baggage claim, where you had organised to meet your parents.

"Honestly? I'm fucking petrified." Charlie responded, causing you to laugh.

"You'll be fine. Everyone loves you Char, and my family will be no different." You walked around the corner, spotting your Dad quickly.

"Dad!" You called, rushing over to hug your father. Charlie walked over slowly. You pulled away and grinned, glancing at Charlie.

"Dad, I'd like to meet my boyfriend, Charlie." You introduced. "Char, this is my dad, Sam."

Charlie held his hand out for your dad to shake.

"It's nice to officially meet you Mr Y/L/N. Can I call you Sam?" He smiled nervously. Your father looked him up and down before taking his hand and shaking it.

"Sir will do. Charlie, short for Charles I assume?" His glare was stone cold. Charlie swallowed, nodding.

"Yes sir, but I prefer Charlie." Your father nodded before turning his attention back to you.

"How long are you two here for?" He asked, ignoring Charlie, who moved to grab the both of your bags that were coming along the carousel.

"We have 8 days off, but we're only here for 4." You responded. Your dad nodded.

"Well I guess that's better than nothing. Come on let's go, your mother is waiting in the car outside. She didn't want to pay for parking so she's been driving around while I waited in here."

And with that the three of you headed outside to the car.

Luckily for Charlie the rest of your family weren't as scary as your father was.

Your mother was lovely, and she had been very welcoming, even speaking to him in French when it was brought up that the two shared a common language.

Your brothers were really cool and invited him to join them to play video games whenever he wanted.

And your little sister, well, she adored the Canadian boy from the minute he walked through the front door.

And just like that Charlie’s first day at the Y/L/N house was over.

After sitting outside for hours with you and your parents, Charlie decided to head off to bed, and with a quick kiss for you and a murmured "goodnight" he was gone.

"So what do you think?" You asked once you knew that Charlie was well and truly inside.

"He's lovely darling." Your mother told you, smiling. You turned to your father.

"Dad?" You asked. Your father shrugged.

"He's not too bad, I guess." He admitted. You shook your head slightly. Of course your father would say that.

"I met his family you know? They're really nice, just like you guys." You told your parents.

"Oh, that's good sweetie." Your mum grinned.

"His parents are great, they're really down to earth. And his brothers and sister are really cool. Plus they love their hockey." You looked at your dad as you said the last part, knowing how big of a hockey fan he was. Your dad nodded in appreciation.

"That's good to hear. If they like hockey they must be good people." Your mother nodded in agreement with her husband. You fell into a comfortable silence for a few seconds.

"You know..." You began, breaking the silence. "I think he might be the one." Your mother put her hand up to her mouth, unable to hide her excitement.

"Oh Y/N, you really think so?" She asked. You nodded.

"Yeah, I really love him." You smiled.

"And he's a good man?" Your dad questioned, fixing his gaze on you. You nodded quickly.

"I swear on my heart. He loves me, and he'd never hurt me." You assured him.

"Good." He said, and with that the conversation was over, the topic changing to gossip about a family friend who's husband had cheated on her.

And later when you were heading off to bed you made sure to give your dad an extra big hug and remind him softly that he was the first man that really loved you.

The four days passed quickly and before anyone knew it, it was time for you and Charlie to leave.

Your family gathered on the driveway, next to Charlie’s car that he had collected on your second day back. After a few hugs with your siblings Charlie moved to bid farewell to your parents. Your mother pulled him into a hug.

"It was lovely to meet you darling." She said softly, before pulling away.

"You too." He smiled. "It was lovely to meet all of you."

"Don't be a stranger Charlie." She said.

"Yeah come back all the time." Your little sister agreed. Charlie nodded.

"I'll make sure of it." He turned his attention to your father, holding out his hand for him to shake. Your father took it, shaking it firmly.

"Thank you for having me sir." Charlie smiled politely. Your father paused, before faking a smile.

"It was no problem." You exchanged a knowing look with your mother. You both knew that your father didn't think that Charlie deserved you.

After a few more goodbyes you and Charlie hopped into the car and left, waving to your family as you pulled out. You had barely made it to the end of the street before you grabbed Charlie's arm.

"Wait we need to go back." You said quickly.

"Why?" Charlie asked, but turned around nonetheless.

"I forgot to tell my dad something." He pulled up in front of the house and you jumped out quickly, rushing over to your father who was still outside. He looked at you in confusion.

"I forgot to say, remember you were the first man who really loved me." You smiled softly, and with one last hug you left again.

Spring 2022

It was a beautiful Spring day in Hawaii. You and your father were stood together at the top of the beach, dressed to the nines, him in a fancy suit and you in your chosen wedding outfit.

It was almost time.

Time for you to walk down the aisle and marry the love of your life.

You looked over at your father, noticing his tie was slightly crooked. You took a step closer, and fixed the tie, watching as he tried to fight back the tears that were threatening to fall. You smiled softly at him.

"You know, I've never seen you cry before." You whispered. Your dad smiled, a tear falling down his cheek.

"You just look so beautiful Y/N. No matter what, you'll always be my little baby." He responded, pulling you into a hug.

As you separated the music began to play, and he held his arm out for you to take.

"Here we go." You whispered, and the two of you began your walk down the beach to where Charlie was waiting, teary eyed, at the end of the aisle.

As you walked, your father found himself looking over at you, taking in the tears of happiness and the look of love that you were giving Charlie. Your dad smiled to himself, glad that you had finally found the perfect man for you.

You reached the end of the aisle and you pulled your father into a hug.

"Remember," You whispered. "You were the first man who really loved me." You pulled away, stepping back. Your dad hesitated for a second before stepping forward to pull Charlie into a hug.

"Take care of my little angel." He whispered. Charlie nodded.

"Of course Sir." They pulled apart and your dad smiled softly.

"You can call me Sam."

#charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie x reader #fluff #based on the song First Man by Camila Cabello #reader insert

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smells-like-mettaton · 3 years

Note

Perhaps #5 (Hold my Hand) with Papyton for the fic ask game if you are still doing it?

(I hope you're okay with me writing this as a sequel to one of my other papyton fics! This could still be read on its own, but it will make more sense if you read the first chapter. If you don't want to, just know that the part in italics at the beginning is from a fanfic that Alphys wrote.)

The Greatest Fanfiction of All: The Sequel

Rating: T Word Count: 1687 Read on AO3: here

---

Papyrus’s hands are warm. Of course they are. Theyre always covered in gloves. Not even Mettaton, his boyfriend of one month and thirteen days, knows what his bony phalanges look like beneath the plush red fabric.

But tonight, that's going to change.

xxx

Exactly one month and thirteen days had passed since Mettaton had read the beginning of Alphys’s “papyton” fanfiction. It also happened to be one month and thirteen days since Papyrus had agreed to be his boyfriend, sending him on a magical journey of love and romance.

That journey had given him plenty of new perspectives and discoveries. Yet the mystery of what lie under Papryus’s gloves was not one of them.

He sat next to Mettaton on their usual bench at the center of the hedge maze. The sky was dark with stormclouds, which kept any stray spectators away from the park. Papyrus was prepared, as usual; a tall MTT-Brand Umbrella leaned against his femur. Nothing and no one would ruin this moment.

Now Mettaton just needed to have the moment. Preferably without resorting to calling Alphys and Frisk again.

“METTATON? IS SOMETHING THE MATTER?” Papyrus asked, his browbone furrowing in concern.

Mettaton’s fingers were already laced through his; Mettaton rubbed his thumb against the back of Papyrus’s glove.

“Well. It is a very special day, darling.” Special enough that Mettaton had worn the outfit Papyrus loved most—a cropped shirt that said COOL ROBOT and galaxy-print leggings that hugged his metallic thighs. Papyrus himself had worn a bright Tetris shirt and shorts that exposed his gleaming femurs.

“IT IS?” Papyrus blinked. “IS THERE A SALE ON RIGATONI? BECAUSE I THOUGHT THAT STARTED NEXT WEEK.”

“Hm? Oh—not that I know of, but I will keep that in mind.” He imagined creating a pasta bouquet for Papyrus, and a smile graced his lips. “Today is the one month and thirteen day anniversary of our glamorous romance.”

“WOWIE! TIME FLIES WHEN YOU’RE DATING A HOT ROBOT!” Papyrus grinned, pressing his teeth to Mettaton’s cheek in a close approximation of a kiss. “HAPPY ONE MONTH AND THIRTEEN DAYS, METTATON! IS THERE A SPECIAL WAY YOU WANT TO CELEBRATE?”

It was perfect. Mettaton couldn’t have set it up better if he tried.

“Actually…” He turned Papyrus’s hand over, examining every seam and stitch in his crimson glove. “I was hoping to see your hands. I know they’re just as handsome as the rest of you.”

He winked, and a light blush spread across Papyrus’s cheekbones.

“MY HANDS? I’D GLOVE TO! BUT, ERM…” His fingers disentangled from Mettatons, instead fidgeting nervously with the hem of his right glove. “I DON’T KNOW THAT YOU WOULD FIND THEM AS UNBEARABLY ATTRACTIVE AS THE REST OF ME.”

Coming from Papyrus, that was practically a statement of self-loathing. Guilt bubbled in Mettaton’s soul-tank.

“Beautiful.” He grasped the top of his boyfriend’s arms and squeezed them gently. “There is not a bone in your body that I would not find attractive. Of course, I will not ask you to perform if you are suffering stage fright, but I do think you shine so much brighter in the light.”

Papyrus smiled a little, though his browbone was still turned upward with worry.

"IF YOU'RE SURE…"

"Positive as my ratings, darling."

Papyrus nodded slowly. "I TRUST YOU, METTATON."

Those words were like ambrosia to Mettaton's soul. He would do anything to remain worthy of his boyfriend's trust.

"PLEASE, JUST… DON'T BE FRIGHTENED, ALRIGHT?"

Mettaton couldn't imagine anything about Papyrus being frightening.

Then, with agonizing care, Papyrus peeled off his gloves. And Mettaton understood.

The bones of his hands were scorched an ashen gray, nearly black. Hairline cracks laced through them like spiderwebs. Mettaton was half afraid that if he touched them, they would crumble to dust.

"I'M FINE, REALLY!" Papyrus must have noticed the look on his face, no matter how quickly Mettaton had schooled his expression. "THESE BURNS ARE SO OLD, I BARELY NOTICE THEY'RE THERE!"

His grin was strained. Mettaton wanted nothing more than to reach out and squeeze his hand, but he didn't dare.

"They don't hurt?" Mettaton asked, then winced. He could've phrased that more tactfully. It was probably better than asking how on earth the injury had happened, at least.

"WELL… THEY ARE A BIT SENSITIVE WITHOUT MY GLOVES. THEY HAVE HEALING MAGIC, YOU SEE." Papyrus held out one of his red gloves, his expression turning to one of pride. "SANS DID THE SEWING, AND I DID THE ENCHANTMENT."

"No wonder you love them so much." Mettaton smiled. It was adorable how much Papyrus loved his brother. Their love had inspired Mettaton to finally patch up his relationship with Blooky and Mew Mew.

Papyrus smiled back, running a charred fingertip fondly over the fabric. "WOULD YOU… LIKE TO TRY ONE ON?"

"Me?" Mettaton blinked.

"OF COURSE! WOULDN'T YOU LIKE TO EXPERIENCE THE GREAT PAPYRUS'S LEGENDARY HEALING MAGIC FIRSTHAND?"

Mettaton chuckled at the pun. "How could I possibly refuse?"

He slipped off his white gloves, revealing the unsightly bolts in his own fingers. He hardly felt self-conscious about that after seeing Papyrus's hands, though.

Papyrus's glove fit like a dream. Like holding his hand, only from the inside. Warmth seeped from the fabric into his metal joints, slipping through his cracks like sweet oil.

"This is… quite the enchantment," he breathed.

Papyrus couldn’t be in pain with that much healing magic caressing his bones. But on the other hand, even the constant healing magic had failed to permanently erase the scars. Mettaton still wasn’t too familiar with physical injuries, but surely that wasn’t normal, right?

Papyrus’s wink sounded like magical glitter."WHAT CAN I SAY? I'M VERY ENCHANTING."

He looked just as bright as ever. Just as energetic, as full of life.

Just as beautiful, inside and out.

"That you are, darling." Mettaton kissed his cheek.

Papyrus pulled his left glove back onto his hand, then twined his fingers with Mettaton's. Red on red, warmth on warmth Their hands matched perfectly.

"YOU PROBABLY HAVE SOME QUESTIONS," Papyrus said quietly.

Mettaton's eye flickered to Papyrus's bare right hand before returning to his eyesockets.

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't feel comfortable with, darling."

Mettaton was curious of course. If this injury had been caused by another monster, they would face the wrath of a true killer robot. Knowing Papyrus, though, he had probably forgiven whoever was responsible.

"I ALWAYS FEEL COMFORTABLE WITH YOU." He smiled. "AND IT IS… NICE. TO HAVE SOMEONE BESIDES SANS KNOW THIS."

"No one else knows?" Mettaton’s eyes widened. He'd thought Undyne would have found out, whether Papyrus told her on purpose or she burned off his gloves during one of their cooking lessons.

"I AM A SKELETON OF MANY SECRETS." Papyrus winked again. This time it sounded like tinkling bells. "IT HELPS THAT NO ONE ELSE REMEMBERS THE ACCIDENT, THOUGH."

An accident. No one had hurt Papyrus on purpose.

Mettaton sighed in relief, powering down his killer robot protocols.

"I WAS HELPING MY DAD WITH HIS WORK ON THE CORE. I ALWAYS CALIBRATED THE PUZZLES WHILE HE CALIBRATED THE GEOTHERMAL POWER LEVELS."

Papyrus looked down at their tangled hands, his expression distant.

"I STILL DON'T KNOW EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED. ON THE DAYS SANS REMEMBERS, HE PROMISES THAT IT WASN'T MY FAULT. THAT DAD WAS TOO CARELESS. BUT THERE WAS AN EXPLOSION, AND DAD, HE… HE FELL…"

Something in Mettaton crushed as Papyrus's voice cracked.

"I WAS LUCKIER. THE BLAST ONLY GOT MY HANDS." The smile returned.

"Papyrus…"

Mettaton didn't know what to say. What could he say? Ghosts didn't have parents. His cousins were his family, but he couldn't imagine them dying, either. Blooky physically couldn't.

But this wasn't about him! It was about Papyrus, who had lost his father and scarred his hands and still counted himself lucky.

"DON'T BE SAD, METTATON. IT WAS A LONG TIME AGO. LONGER THAN YOU CAN IMAGINE."

Papyrus looked into his eyes, and for a moment, Mettaton saw something old. Mettaton had been alive—albeit as a ghost—for nearly two centuries. Right now, though, Mettaton wondered if Papyrus was even older than that.

"I suppose so,” he reluctantly admitted. “I don't even remember an explosion at the CORE."

"OH, THAT'S NORMAL. APPARENTLY DAD WAS RATHER FORGETTABLE." His smile was sad. "EVEN SANS DOESN'T ALWAYS REMEMBER HIM. BUT I… WELL."

He closed his blackened fist.

"IT WOULD BE DIFFICULT TO FORGET."

Mettaton opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Luckily, it didn’t seem like Papyrus was looking for a response.

“WHEW! ALL THIS HONESTY IS EXHAUSTING!!” Sweat beaded on his skull. “DO YOU WANT TO GO GET NICE CREAMS?”

“Of course, darling, but—are you sure that you’re okay?” Mettaton couldn’t help the concern in his voice. It wasn’t every day that he unlocked his boyfriend’s tragic backstory.

And here he’d been so concerned about something as trivial as holding hands. He truly was as selfish as everyone believed.

“PLEASE, DON’T WORRY ABOUT ME,” Papyrus said firmly. His hand gave Mettaton’s a tight squeeze. “I MEANT IT WHEN I SAID IT WAS LONG AGO. PRACTICALLY A DIFFERENT LIFETIME. I ONLY TOLD YOU SO THAT YOU WOULD KNOW HOW MUCH I TRUST YOU.”

Trust. Mettaton trusted Papyrus, too. Trusted that he didn’t need Mettaton to coddle him. Trusted that if he wanted Mettaton’s help, he would ask for it.

“I… thank you, darling.” Ghostly tears welled in his eyes. “Your trust means everything to me.”

“WELL THEN!” Papyrus’s grin turned mischievous. “I TRUST YOU TO KISS ME UNTIL I CAN’T BREATHE!”

Mettaton’s fans whirred and whirred. The sound was quickly drowned out by the raindrops that began to fall and fizzle on his shoulder pads.

“Darling, you’re a skeleton. You don’t have lungs.”

“NEITHER DO YOU.” Papyrus twirled the umbrella before popping it open, protecting Mettaton from the threat of short-circuiting.

(From the rain, at least.)

“You truly know how to give me a challenge, darling.” Mettaton cuddled closer, reaching up to brush his red-gloved hand against Papyrus’s cheekbone.

“ONLY BECAUSE I KNOW YOU’LL RISE TO IT!”

Mettaton grinned back, and that was exactly what he did.

#fic tag #prompt requests #papyton #tali writes #papyrus #mettaton

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