#or give me ideas on how to preserve this many
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So, let me try and put everything together here, because I really do think it needs to be talked about.
Today, Unity announced that it intends to apply a fee to use its software. Then it got worse.
For those not in the know, Unity is the most popular free to use video game development tool, offering a basic version for individuals who want to learn how to create games or create independently alongside paid versions for corporations or people who want more features. It's decent enough at this job, has issues but for the price point I can't complain, and is the idea entry point into creating in this medium, it's a very important piece of software.
But speaking of tools, the CEO is a massive one. When he was the COO of EA, he advocated for using, what out and out sounds like emotional manipulation to coerce players into microtransactions.
"A consumer gets engaged in a property, they might spend 10, 20, 30, 50 hours on the game and then when they're deep into the game they're well invested in it. We're not gouging, but we're charging and at that point in time the commitment can be pretty high."
He also called game developers who don't discuss monetization early in the planning stages of development, quote, "fucking idiots".
So that sets the stage for what might be one of the most bald-faced greediest moves I've seen from a corporation in a minute. Most at least have the sense of self-preservation to hide it.
A few hours ago, Unity posted this announcement on the official blog.
Effective January 1, 2024, we will introduce a new Unity Runtime Fee that’s based on game installs. We will also add cloud-based asset storage, Unity DevOps tools, and AI at runtime at no extra cost to Unity subscription plans this November.
We are introducing a Unity Runtime Fee that is based upon each time a qualifying game is downloaded by an end user. We chose this because each time a game is downloaded, the Unity Runtime is also installed. Also we believe that an initial install-based fee allows creators to keep the ongoing financial gains from player engagement, unlike a revenue share.
Now there are a few red flags to note in this pitch immediately.
Unity is planning on charging a fee on all games which use its engine.
This is a flat fee per number of installs.
They are using an always online runtime function to determine whether a game is downloaded.
There is just so many things wrong with this that it's hard to know where to start, not helped by this FAQ which doubled down on a lot of the major issues people had.
I guess let's start with what people noticed first. Because it's using a system baked into the software itself, Unity would not be differentiating between a "purchase" and a "download". If someone uninstalls and reinstalls a game, that's two downloads. If someone gets a new computer or a new console and downloads a game already purchased from their account, that's two download. If someone pirates the game, the studio will be asked to pay for that download.
Q: How are you going to collect installs?
A: We leverage our own proprietary data model. We believe it gives an accurate determination of the number of times the runtime is distributed for a given project.
Q: Is software made in unity going to be calling home to unity whenever it's ran, even for enterprice licenses?
A: We use a composite model for counting runtime installs that collects data from numerous sources. The Unity Runtime Fee will use data in compliance with GDPR and CCPA. The data being requested is aggregated and is being used for billing purposes.
Q: If a user reinstalls/redownloads a game / changes their hardware, will that count as multiple installs?
A: Yes. The creator will need to pay for all future installs. The reason is that Unity doesn’t receive end-player information, just aggregate data.
Q: What's going to stop us being charged for pirated copies of our games?
A: We do already have fraud detection practices in our Ads technology which is solving a similar problem, so we will leverage that know-how as a starting point. We recognize that users will have concerns about this and we will make available a process for them to submit their concerns to our fraud compliance team.
This is potentially related to a new system that will require Unity Personal developers to go online at least once every three days.
Starting in November, Unity Personal users will get a new sign-in and online user experience. Users will need to be signed into the Hub with their Unity ID and connect to the internet to use Unity. If the internet connection is lost, users can continue using Unity for up to 3 days while offline. More details to come, when this change takes effect.
It's unclear whether this requirement will be attached to any and all Unity games, though it would explain how they're theoretically able to track "the number of installs", and why the methodology for tracking these installs is so shit, as we'll discuss later.
Unity claims that it will only leverage this fee to games which surpass a certain threshold of downloads and yearly revenue.
Only games that meet the following thresholds qualify for the Unity Runtime Fee:
Unity Personal and Unity Plus: Those that have made $200,000 USD or more in the last 12 months AND have at least 200,000 lifetime game installs.
Unity Pro and Unity Enterprise: Those that have made $1,000,000 USD or more in the last 12 months AND have at least 1,000,000 lifetime game installs.
They don't say how they're going to collect information on a game's revenue, likely this is just to say that they're only interested in squeezing larger products (games like Genshin Impact and Honkai: Star Rail, Fate Grand Order, Among Us, and Fall Guys) and not every 2 dollar puzzle platformer that drops on Steam. But also, these larger products have the easiest time porting off of Unity and the most incentives to, meaning realistically those heaviest impacted are going to be the ones who just barely meet this threshold, most of them indie developers.
Aggro Crab Games, one of the first to properly break this story, points out that systems like the Xbox Game Pass, which is already pretty predatory towards smaller developers, will quickly inflate their "lifetime game installs" meaning even skimming the threshold of that 200k revenue, will be asked to pay a fee per install, not a percentage on said revenue.
[IMAGE DESCRIPTION: Hey Gamers!
Today, Unity (the engine we use to make our games) announced that they'll soon be taking a fee from developers for every copy of the game installed over a certain threshold - regardless of how that copy was obtained.
Guess who has a somewhat highly anticipated game coming to Xbox Game Pass in 2024? That's right, it's us and a lot of other developers.
That means Another Crab's Treasure will be free to install for the 25 million Game Pass subscribers. If a fraction of those users download our game, Unity could take a fee that puts an enormous dent in our income and threatens the sustainability of our business.
And that's before we even think about sales on other platforms, or pirated installs of our game, or even multiple installs by the same user!!!
This decision puts us and countless other studios in a position where we might not be able to justify using Unity for our future titles. If these changes aren't rolled back, we'll be heavily considering abandoning our wealth of Unity expertise we've accumulated over the years and starting from scratch in a new engine. Which is really something we'd rather not do.
On behalf of the dev community, we're calling on Unity to reverse the latest in a string of shortsighted decisions that seem to prioritize shareholders over their product's actual users.
I fucking hate it here.
-Aggro Crab - END DESCRIPTION]
That fee, by the way, is a flat fee. Not a percentage, not a royalty. This means that any games made in Unity expecting any kind of success are heavily incentivized to cost as much as possible.
[IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A table listing the various fees by number of Installs over the Install Threshold vs. version of Unity used, ranging from $0.01 to $0.20 per install. END DESCRIPTION]
Basic elementary school math tells us that if a game comes out for $1.99, they will be paying, at maximum, 10% of their revenue to Unity, whereas jacking the price up to $59.99 lowers that percentage to something closer to 0.3%. Obviously any company, especially any company in financial desperation, which a sudden anchor on all your revenue is going to create, is going to choose the latter.
Furthermore, and following the trend of "fuck anyone who doesn't ask for money", Unity helpfully defines what an install is on their main site.
While I'm looking at this page as it exists now, it currently says
The installation and initialization of a game or app on an end user’s device as well as distribution via streaming is considered an “install.” Games or apps with substantially similar content may be counted as one project, with installs then aggregated to calculate the Unity Runtime Fee.
However, I saw a screenshot saying something different, and utilizing the Wayback Machine we can see that this phrasing was changed at some point in the few hours since this announcement went up. Instead, it reads:
The installation and initialization of a game or app on an end user’s device as well as distribution via streaming or web browser is considered an “install.” Games or apps with substantially similar content may be counted as one project, with installs then aggregated to calculate the Unity Runtime Fee.
Screenshot for posterity:
That would mean web browser games made in Unity would count towards this install threshold. You could legitimately drive the count up simply by continuously refreshing the page. The FAQ, again, doubles down.
Q: Does this affect WebGL and streamed games?
A: Games on all platforms are eligible for the fee but will only incur costs if both the install and revenue thresholds are crossed. Installs - which involves initialization of the runtime on a client device - are counted on all platforms the same way (WebGL and streaming included).
And, what I personally consider to be the most suspect claim in this entire debacle, they claim that "lifetime installs" includes installs prior to this change going into effect.
Will this fee apply to games using Unity Runtime that are already on the market on January 1, 2024?
Yes, the fee applies to eligible games currently in market that continue to distribute the runtime. We look at a game's lifetime installs to determine eligibility for the runtime fee. Then we bill the runtime fee based on all new installs that occur after January 1, 2024.
Again, again, doubled down in the FAQ.
Q: Are these fees going to apply to games which have been out for years already? If you met the threshold 2 years ago, you'll start owing for any installs monthly from January, no? (in theory). It says they'll use previous installs to determine threshold eligibility & then you'll start owing them for the new ones.
A: Yes, assuming the game is eligible and distributing the Unity Runtime then runtime fees will apply. We look at a game's lifetime installs to determine eligibility for the runtime fee. Then we bill the runtime fee based on all new installs that occur after January 1, 2024.
That would involve billing companies for using their software before telling them of the existence of a bill. Holding their actions to a contract that they performed before the contract existed!
Okay. I think that's everything. So far.
There is one thing that I want to mention before ending this post, unfortunately it's a little conspiratorial, but it's so hard to believe that anyone genuinely thought this was a good idea that it's stuck in my brain as a significant possibility.
A few days ago it was reported that Unity's CEO sold 2,000 shares of his own company.
On September 6, 2023, John Riccitiello, President and CEO of Unity Software Inc (NYSE:U), sold 2,000 shares of the company. This move is part of a larger trend for the insider, who over the past year has sold a total of 50,610 shares and purchased none.
I would not be surprised if this decision gets reversed tomorrow, that it was literally only made for the CEO to short his own goddamn company, because I would sooner believe that this whole thing is some idiotic attempt at committing fraud than a real monetization strategy, even knowing how unfathomably greedy these people can be.
So, with all that said, what do we do now?
Well, in all likelihood you won't need to do anything. As I said, some of the biggest names in the industry would be directly affected by this change, and you can bet your bottom dollar that they're not just going to take it lying down. After all, the only way to stop a greedy CEO is with a greedier CEO, right?
(I fucking hate it here.)
And that's not mentioning the indie devs who are already talking about abandoning the engine.
[Links display tweets from the lead developer of Among Us saying it'd be less costly to hire people to move the game off of Unity and Cult of the Lamb's official twitter saying the game won't be available after January 1st in response to the news.]
That being said, I'm still shaken by all this. The fact that Unity is openly willing to go back and punish its developers for ever having used the engine in the past makes me question my relationship to it.
The news has given rise to the visibility of free, open source alternative Godot, which, if you're interested, is likely a better option than Unity at this point. Mostly, though, I just hope we can get out of this whole, fucking, environment where creatives are treated as an endless mill of free profits that's going to be continuously ratcheted up and up to drive unsustainable infinite corporate growth that our entire economy is based on for some fuckin reason.
Anyways, that's that, I find having these big posts that break everything down to be helpful.
#Unity#Unity3D#Video Games#Game Development#Game Developers#fuckshit#I don't know what to tag news like this
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can you pls write something about reader being sick and like not the cough and cold kind of sick- like really really sick, and sukuna realising how much he doesn't want to lose her to this sickness and how if she dies, he'll be alone again..🥺
You have NO idea how much I love this idea!!! I did go a bit overboard with it cause I love suffering though 👍 Still, this was SO much fun to write and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Vows
Sukuna x Reader
Word count: 4.5k
Tags/warnings: gn! reader, true form! sukuna, master/pet dynamic, fluff but most importantly ANGST, mentions of weight loss, mentions of violence, implied nsfw, reader dies in the end :( (sorry)
It's not the first time Sukuna has been made aware of your mortality. He recalls many instances when he's been reminded that you are human. Finite. The first time he wrapped his hand around your throat and squeezed with calculation while you were laying under him, and you looked up at him in fear for your life. Your little hand couldn't even wrap around his wrist, much less provide resistance. Or when he'd pull your hair a little too roughly, and hear a crack in your delicate spine. When you'd get sick, and humbly refuse his healing. So little as a tummy ache had you writhing on your bed.
You are so weak, so small, clinging to life like there was anything for you in it, beyond Sukuna. By all means he hates all of these things. So what witchery is this, and why does he care about you so much? Why does he keep you for years, and why does your company bring him comfort he hasn't ever known in his lifetime?
Still, as much as he cares, he doesn't notice when it starts. He's trained you to tolerate pain, after all. It's no wonder you hesitate to tell him. Little things like tummyaches and colds occur to you all the time anyways, and you never complain. Sure, you've grown closer to Sukuna, but he was still your master, and the rules he instilled in you from the start were always fresh in your mind, not to be crossed. Bothering him with everything that feels off always seemed inappropriate.
And Sukuna is just like that. If you're not screaming or crying, he won't know you're in pain. But he notices that you're acting off. And how he reacts really doesn't help your case, or encourage you to speak up about your condition. ''I don't have all day. What is wrong with you?'', he sneers when he catches you pacing too far behind him.
So you just sleep longer and preserve energy for when you are with him. You don't skip around as much anymore, or spend time doing your hobbies. Food doesn't taste so great anymore. You have a cough that gives you sleepless nights because it just won't calm down. And the time you owe Sukuna starts to feel like an obligation. You start to dread it. Dread slipping up, dread annoying him or failing to satisfy him. Dread being disposable.
When things start getting worse, it's hard to hide it even from him. He was taking you from behind one night, and you were grateful he couldn't see the look on your face. You thought you could do it. Sukuna was always demanding, but he would never force you to do anything. If only you told him before you felt yourself struggling for air, and your chest closing in on itself in tightness. You reached one hand back, frantically grabbing his wrist.
''Feathers, feathers!'', words came out as gasps, and you slumped forward when he let you go. You were panicked and crying by then, this kind of discomfort being foreign even to you, even after weeks of pain behind you. He hovered next to you with a puzzled look on his face. He wasn't even being that rough.
''What's wrong? Tell me.'', he said, and reached his hand to feel the warmth of your tears streaming down your face. He swiped your cheek gently. He didn't seem mad at all. Why didn't you say anything from the start?
''I just feel so sick.'', you muster up in between sobs, and shut your eyes. You were too embarrassed to even look at him.
''I see.''. His hand leaves your face, and he traces it from your neck down your spine. The pain subsided slowly, allowing you to relax and find comfort in his arms.
But the effects of his healing were short lived. Just a week later the feeling of fatigue creeps back into your life. Manageable, but lingering. And the cough persists. And it gets on Sukuna's nerves too. He's been quite patient with you, but his patience was reaching it's limit.
You're sitting by his throne as you often do, and as hard as you try to hold the cough in, you just can't help it. His hand finds the back of your neck and squeezes, turning you to him. And he looks at you with all four, terrifying eyes. ''Can you shut up?''
''I'm sorry, I'm trying -'', you stutter, but just end up coughing more. He doesn't wait for you to stop.
''Get out of here.'', and pushes you away. You stumble down the pile of bones and fall, landing on your hands and knees. You don't remember him being this cruel to you in a long time. You look back at him with teary eyes, and he looks back like the merciless monster he is. The villagers awaiting him moved to make space for your fall, taking note of the tense situation.
That day, Sukuna sends word that he doesn't want to see you until you get better. You're forbidden from going outside again, in fear that that is making your 'cold' worse. It's a lonely week in your room, until Sukuna starts to crave you again. It didn't take him a while, counting the couple days he spent convincing himself he doesn't miss you. He does. So when he sends word for you again, and the servants come back to him saying you're still not feeling well... he's worried. So worried he comes to see it for himself.
Sukuna rarely comes to your room. It's the only space you have for yourself, and he doesn't want to take that away from you. Your room is modest. You have a bed, a carpet, and a couple shelves to house the books he's gifted you. There's a desk where you can eat and read, and a doorway to the garden. There's an empty glass of water and a napkin next to your bed. You're still sleeping, but the door shutting behind him wakes you up, so he doesn't get to enjoy observing you in your natural habitat for long.
It's not the first time doors opening and closing woke you up. But you know this time is different. The servants are always quickly shuffling around the room, cleaning up and moving around. Uraume clanks with plates. There is no noise now, other than your strained breathing and a cough brewing in the back of your throat. Besides, the aura that Sukuna brings with him everywhere he goes is recognizable. Especially to you. Heavy.
You turn around, and meet the gaze of his four eyes. ''Master...'', you struggle to sit up, and even a little action like that has spots forming in your vision. Then a coughing fit hits you. You pick up the napkin and put it to your mouth.
Sukuna sees your whole body strain with the effort of coughing. And when you call him master, even your voice sounds different. He knows your morning voice. He missed hearing it, but this... this is not it. You sit with your head hung low, staring at the napkin between your hands. There's a fresh splatter of blood on it. But Sukuna scares you more than the progression of your illness.
''Are you mad at me?'', you ask timidly, meeting his gaze.
''I'm concerned.", he says and sits next to you. You curl up to make space for him. "Two weeks is a long time for a frail human like you to be sick.", he looks at you, scanning your form up and down.
"I rested and drank every tea Uraume told me to!", your defense mechanism kicks in, and you start babbling.
Sukuna dismisses you with a hand and a pained facial expression. "I know.", he says. His brows are furrowed now, and he's looking at the ground, lost in thought.
You feel guilty for annoying him again. You feel guilty for the whole thing, getting sick, draining the energy it takes him to heal you, robbing him of the time with you that he deserves. Owns. He is very generous with the way he treats you, having all that in mind.
You tug on his sleeve. "I'm sorry, Master... You deserve better.", and you're sobbing again. Sukuna gives you a pathetic look, but smiles as he pulls you into his embrace.
"Silly pet. I can survive a couple weeks without your assistance.", he says, rubbing your shoulder.
You run your fingers against the back of his hand mindlessly, not knowing how to respond. Caressing his knuckles, bones, veins... feeling his nails and their sharp tips against your sensitive skin. When you bring his palm up to your lips, your kiss stains it red with blood.
-
You still sleep with Sukuna sometimes. Less frequently, only on days when you feel well enough, and those are rare. You've lost weight by now, sickness making itself visible on your body. You're sitting on his lap and clinging to your robes, scared that he won't like you as much, that you won't live up to his standards. But Sukuna's demeanor about your illness has changed, as he seemed to sense something unusual about it. He flips you over so gently, like you're made of glass, and peppers kisses from your neck downwards, slowly undressing you as much as you allow him. When he takes you, he's so careful. Constantly checking you're comfortable and enjoying yourself. You feel so loved and relaxed, and pleasure comes so easy when you're in this state. It's not the first time Sukuna is this caring with you in bed, but this time is different. This time you can't help but feel like he's saying goodbye.
He holds you afterwards, tracing his fingers over the ridges of your spine and your shoulders. You were always little in his grasp, but now that he feels your protruding bones under his fingertips, you seem all the more vulnerable.
"Will you kill me?", you ask, breaking the silence.
Sukuna frowns. "Nonsense. Why would I do that?"
There's a gulp in your throat. "It won't be long before I can't even do this. I won't be of any use to you then...", you say.
"Stop.", he says sternly. "There's a lot more to you than what you provide me with in bed."
You smile to yourself, but there's still a hole in your chest. Your statement is still true, and you aren't comforted. But this is Sukuna, and you know that he's offered you quite a lot even with that little bit of reassurance. To your surprise, he speaks again.
"Don't upset yourself. It's been a long time since killing you crossed my mind.", he says. "Save the energy for something else."
You nod and thank him. Just moments later, you're asleep. Quicker than ever before, he notes. You usually love it when he lets you cuddle and talk to him. You would force your eyes open when you were sleepy, just to enjoy it longer.
He feels guilty. He's your master, he's responsible for your well being. Yet nothing he does seems to help you long term. Healing you is temporary and he knows that without accessing the source, it will never work. If he could, he would find what was making you sick and rip it out of you with his bare hands, crush it with the force of his palm. He would have to look deeper, open you, and for once, he thinks he can't open a human being. He thinks of you trashing, screaming, and worst of all, looking into his eyes. Just the thought of you like that makes his chest feel like a gaping cavity. Worst of all, he's sure you would let him. He's sure you would forgive him for spilling your blood, and find comfort in his arms again. If you survived, that is. What has he done to you? And to himself?
Now, your head rests on his chest, and you're snoring lightly. For once, a repetitive noise like that doesn't annoy him. For once, he wishes he could listen to it every night. One day, that noise will be the only thing audibly confirming you're still alive.
-
Months pass and you're only getting worse. You barely leave your room now, too weak to even do so. You eat little, and it's showing in your sunken cheeks and eyes. You feel yourself withering away, loosing color, drying like a dying flower. Sukuna is in grief. He struggles to look at you, and visiting you falls heavy on him every time. He always finds himself thinking afterwards. Regretting that he let himself get this attached, wishing that he could simply forget you. But it doesn't work that way.
He goes to see you, after avoiding you for a week. He's Sukuna, he doesn't have any shame. You're sleeping, like you usually are when he comes to visit you. Your snoring is laboured, and it sounds painful. This time, the doors and the silence don't wake you up. He watches you, curled up under a stack of blankets, rising and falling with your struggles to breathe. How foolish he was, to think forgetting you would be as easy as avoiding you for days. How evil he was, trying to forget you while you are still alive under his wing, still his responsibility. Still his.
He sits next to you and leans over you, fingertips ghosting over your face. The snoring stops and you flutter your eyes open, turning in bed and feeling his body next to yours. You smirk at him, eyes adjusting to the light, and smile when you recognize him. ''Master.'', your arms wrap around his neck as you welcome him, your voice dry, but lively as you beckon him closer. ''I missed you.''.
He comes down to plant a kiss to your forehead. ''I missed you too, darling.''. Oh, the things that escape his mouth when he's alone with you. He cups your face, enjoying how much healthier you look with a smile on your face. ''Feeling any better?'', he rubs your cheek, lingering closely above your face.
You nod, but both of you know you only feel better because you saw him. Still, the little surge of happiness that brings you gives you more energy than you've had the whole week. You wiggle to the edge of the bed, making space and inviting him to join you. Sukuna lies down, hooking one arm underneath your neck and pulling you flush against him.
You wrap your arm around him and lean your head against his shoulder. He's still as big as you remember him, unfaltering in the face of your illness. It's comforting. ''You didn't visit in a while. Were you busy?'', you ask, stroking his back. ''How were your days?''
''Monotone.'', he says. ''The villagers bring remedies for you every day, and wish for you to get well.'' It's no wonder. So many times, Sukuna found himself hesitating to kill just because you were sitting on his knee, dressed in something too pretty to be splattered with blood. In the local villages, word spread that you have ''domesticated'' Sukuna. As if such a thing was possible. Or was it?
''Oh?'', you smile. ''I didn't think they would notice my absence.''. You always were supposed to be Sukuna's accessory and nothing more. Remedies and good wishes make it sound like you're more important than just a pet. So it really is that obvious...
''They did.'', he says, and lowers his head, brushing his nose against your face. ''Some took that as an opportunity to gift me new pets.''
You blink at him, a bit taken aback by his honesty. You keep smiling anyways. ''Did you take any?'', you ask, and he sees nothing but genuine curiosity in your eyes. The truth is, you've had a lot of time to think about your place in Sukuna's mansion. You knew, especially in sickness, that you were never entitled to exclusivity with him. You knew that at some point you would have to be replaced, just by the virtue of being a mortal. A human, who would age and become ugly, wrinkled and useless. You were just unlucky enough to meet this fate sooner than you should've.
Sukuna sighs, the weight of the conversation shifting to him. ''Not to bed, no.'', he says.
You're quiet while you think of what to say. You still have a habit of picking words when you're with Sukuna, but the times when he would punish you for improper formulation are far behind you. "Why not?", you settle. You hope the implication is there, that you wouldn't be so mad even if he did.
Why not? Because he thinks it might break him. Because the image of someone else in your place, under him, feels unnatural and wrong. He thinks the guilt might eat him alive. For once in centuries, someone else's needs come before Sukuna's. He is gone, so far gone. You've raised his standards, and he's not sure anyone he takes now will be able to live up to them. Besides, training a new pet to fit your mold would take years, and even then... He couldn't train someone to love him. Not like you do.
''I wouldn't want you to hold back because of me.'', you say, and he realizes he's been quiet for too long. Years ago, if you dared to imply that Sukuna would do such a thing as hold back because of you, that he cared, you would've been minced meat ready for dinner. Now, he looks down at you tenderly when you say it. Well, a tender look from Sukuna is a docile one. You've gotten used to the way that Sukuna communicates love. Subtly, innocuously.
''Worry about getting well, pet.'', he shuts down the conversation, and moves away from you, sitting back on the bed. ''Any wishes? Food? Activities?'', he asks, and feels your forehead with the back of his hand.
Food? No, but... ''I'd like you to stay, please.'', you say, and take his hand with the two of yours, feeling it up with your thumbs.
Sukuna resists the urge to roll his eyes, knowing the thought of annoying him would upset you greatly. ''That's a given. Anything else?''
You pretend to think, then just babble your favorite food. Sukuna takes your order to Uraume. But when he comes back, you're already asleep again. He waits by your side, but you don't wake, so eventually he leaves. By the evening, the plate of your favorite food remains untouched.
-
You can't leave the bed on your own anymore. Sukuna carries you outside when you're feeling good enough. You barely have the strength to latch onto him securely. Still, it's hard to slip out of the grasp of his four arms. He says you've gotten pale. You lay in his lap and bask in the sun, while he tells you about his day or reads a book out loud for you to enjoy. You wish you could talk to him more, but your voice leaves you as days of endless coughing wreck your throat. No herbs and teas ease your condition anymore. You wait for your final day.
And Sukuna doesn't know when he's given up on the idea that you might get better. But he starts spending whole days with you, leaving your side only to sleep in his bed. He tends to almost all your needs personally. You think that if you asked him to get on his knees for you, he would. He is not familiar with this ache that brews in his chest when he looks to his side and doesn't see you there. It feels violating. To be as powerful as he is, and yet completely helpless in the face of the sickness that drains you in front of his very eyes.
He plays with your thinning hair one morning, and you look at him from his lap, as adoringly as always. ''Isn't it funny?.'', you say, and he snaps out of his thoughts to look at you. ''I always imagined dying by your hand.'', you kiss his hand again, planting your dry, blue lips against his knuckles. ''Who would have thought?''.
You, you little human. You made him feel like a fool, like a coward. You made him feel powerless. Who could ever get away unscathed with making Sukuna feel like this? The thought of killing you now, even out of mercy, fills him with horror. He thinks he couldn't live carrying the burden of your death on his back. It's already hard for him as is.
When he's not with you, he withers away in his room, waiting. And when the servants finally come, and tell him you're at your last strengths, he feels as tense as he feels relieved. The servants shake in fear of his reaction, and he simply dismisses them. In a thousand years of his existence, he doesn't remember having to prepare to enter a room. His hand trembles as he brings it up to push the door open. He dreads what awaits him inside.
He expected blood, hysteria, chaos, yet there's none of it when he walks in. Just the pained noises of your breathing. A servant, your favorite, sits by your side and wipes sweat off your forehead. She talks to you in a comforting tone and pats your head gently. When he walks in the room, she lowers her head and moves to leave. It's only a second, but he sees the sad look on your face. ''Stay.'', he orders, and the servant bows and thanks him.
You move your attention to him, raising your hand to greet him weakly. He picks it up and bends down to kiss it. There's tears in your eyes as he settles into a seat next to you, and you open your mouth in an attempt to say something.
''Easy now.'', he shushes you, and helps you into his lap. You lean back, looking at him through a blur. His features appear even more doubled through the tears, and you still find his beauty mesmerizing. Your master. Your own little god and protector. Although he regrets it, you've never claimed the title of his spouse. Yet, he still stuck by your side, until parted by death. In sickness and in health.
He wipes your tears, and the mouth he conjures onto his hand kisses your forehead. One set of his hands caresses your face, the other massages the tension out of your bony shoulders. Sukuna knows how important it is for you to pass in peace. He doesn't want to curse you, or have despair turn you into a curse. "Relax now.", his voice is so soothing, as if lulling you to sleep. "It won't be long". You weep. What did an ordinary human like you do to deserve this honor? To be comforted on their death bed by a god. To be guided to death by him.
"Master.", you sob. "I'm so scared..."
Delicate touch against your skin. Sharp nails grazing your cheek ever so slightly, just barely enough to make their presence known. "Have no fear.", Sukuna looms over you like a snowdrop. "Where you go now, pain won't follow.". You speak to him a little longer. Tell him all the things you always wanted to tell him, but were scared of the consequences. Dangerous words, ones that were rarely associated with Sukuna. Love. And Sukuna is attentive, so human. Your blinking slows and you find comfort in his voice, as he returns every loving word back to you. Your pained breathing follows, and your eyelids are so heavy. But the sight of him is so hypnotizing, you wish you never had to look away. "You are so brave, my little dove. Go now, be free.". You were too good for this wretched palace anyways. The sight of him is etched in your memory as you close your eyes. "It was a pleasure to have you by my side.", you listen, feeling control over your body slip through your fingers. When you can't move, or feel his touch, you still hear his calm voice. "When you're ready, come back to me. I'll be waiting for your return.". Then everything is quiet, for you and for him. The servants cries are muffled by the sheets, where she has her head pressed by your side.
The hallways, silent except for the busy tapping of feet. Outside, the wind blows petals off of blooming flowers, leaving them bare and stranded. Autumn is here to carry you away.
Servants hold their breath when Sukuna walks by. One wrong look at him and the walls would be painted red. Just like before. Before you. And it's not long before Sukuna looks like a monster again - red eyes and a permanent frown etched on his face. Villagers bring bouquets, and lay them to the right of his throne, where you used to sit. He stares them all down, and only for a moment thinks that maybe, humans are not the scum he thought they were. But then he remembers, they only mourn you because you held him back from his destructive tendencies. Scum.
And he kills again. The first is a villager from afar, where news of your passing hasn't reached. Ripped to shreds for mentioning you. The women who screamed, their blood soaks the carpets and seeps through the wooden floor, dripping down to the cellars. He feels like himself again, unhinged, unbeatable.
Until the day is over, and he goes back to his empty room. His cold, empty bed, and the old habit of reaching for you in his sleep, only to grab nothing instead. And the crocheted figures of the two of you on his nightstand, watching him as he struggles to sleep alone. He can't bear it. So he leaves, and doesn't come back for days, weeks, months.
Smoke clouds the skies on the horizon once again, after years and years of peace and clarity. As far as the eye stretches, the world will know of Sukuna's wrath. But as thrilling as it feels to conquer again, when the village is burned and ash covers the grass on the ground, the thought of you still lingers. Your devastated eyes the first time he's killed before you. The first time he's felt guilty about his monstrous nature. When he comes back, no one's warm embrace awaits him. No one's there to brighten up his day. No amount of blood shed and villages burned replace the emptiness you left behind in his heart.
The grief settles, and sits heavy in Sukuna's chest, as he assumes position in his lonely throne again, and gazes at the row of people waiting to beg, talk, offer... bore him. Another eternity of boredom. An eternity of picking through thousands of humans, in vain hopes of finding you again. In vain hopes of recognizing you, even if it's lifetimes from now, when the last memory of your face has already faded from his mind. When generations change, and the thought of a monster like Sukuna being capable of tenderness vanishes. When the fire in his chest, ignited by love, is already a memory so distant, that recalling it feels surreal.
Maybe he will forget you by then. Maybe times will harden him again, and the idea of a pet becoming his lover will make him laugh. But for now, the thought of finding you in a crowd, taking you in his arms and never letting go, is his comfort and safe place. For now, he will wait for you. As long as it takes, like a stone, unyielding against the passing of time.
#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk angst#jjk fluff#sukuna fluff#sukuna angst#sukuna#soft sukuna#i love bastardizing sukuna in my fics#also this is totally leading me into a part 2 w reincarnated reader#yes weve heard it a thousand times#idc it makes me happy
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DPXDC prompt. Dead on main. Singer! Phantom x Red Hood!Jason
Laws are easily changed if businessmen smell money.
Paulina and Sam suggest Danny to try to become a singer in order to change society's opinion about ghosts a little. In the end, the otherworldly sound of his voice can at least be used for the benefit of Realms.
And it seems like the Everlasting Trio is really liked by the public. At first they just release a few songs (Exams kill, Battle with myself, What an Autopsy Won't Show, Among the stars). But a mysterious atmosphere mixed with understandable teenage problems begins to take over teens playlists. Their fans want more and more.
So, when under the pressure of the public and profit-hungry bigwigs all bans on the presence of ecto creatures in the United States are lifted, the Trio goes on their first Tour.
~~~~~
Jason stumbles upon Phantom's songs completely by accident. It was painful to hear them for the first time but at the same time it was as if he could breathe again because he had found someone similar. Someone who understands, and who doesn't judge him for coming back wrong. Jason listens to his voice on repeat and the rage seems to recede and subside. There is sadness of loss and fear in the songs but most of them end bringing some hope and this thought gives Red Hood more strength not to break down for another day. and then another, and another..And one day, the green eyes in the mirror do not scare Jason but shows him that he belonging to something more. Todd can't explain it more precisely, but it was as if the waters of Lazarus inside him had calmed down and he was no longer enemies with them.
He even jokes with Tim that he is finally rest in peace and ready to live a full undead life when his brother (God, his lil brother whom he wanted to hurt recently because of his own stupidity), asks him about his strange behavior.
~~~~~
Jason forgets how to breathe again. His favorite band, and most importantly his favorite vocalist, is coming to Gotham with a concert. For many years now, none of the nonresidents have dared to take such a risk, but it seems like Phantom has absolutely no instinct for self-preservation. Well, as a true fan, Red Hood will do his best so that none of the gothamites spoil the Trio's impression of their first concert here.
Danny is beside himself with excitement. Their concert in the hometown of the Red Hood was approved. Of course, there is no chance that he would be able to meet such a busy vigilante but Phantom continues to dream. If he'll fly a little over the city instead of sleeping after rehearsals, maybe he'll get an autograph from at least one member of the bat clan.
~~~~~
Phantom: Thank you very much Mr. Nightwing sir. Just sign it for.. Nightwing: For a Phantom, right? Huh, I recognized you, my brother has poster in his room. Nice hairstyle by the way.
Danny*urgently*: Which one of them?
Nightwing: Jeez, and I thought it was just a stage image. Ghosts are kinda creepy. Terribly persistent, to be precise. And yeah, Jason, he absolutely not against you as a vigilante. You can safely ask Phantom to sign your helmet, I promise. Man was so happy when find out you're listening to his songs, you have no idea.
Jason *holds out a hand*.
Nightwing: What?
Jason: If you dared to meet Phantom before me, then where is my autograph?
Nightwing: Em..oops? I gave him mine if it helps.
Jason: *sounds of an angry lazarus demon*.
#dpxdc prompts#dpxdc prompt#dpxdc crossover#dpxdc au#dpxdc#dc x dp#dp x dc#dp x dc crossover#dcxdp#dead on main#dpxdc memes#danny x jason
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(sorry this is from a week ago but) Wait, what's going on right now that's complicated with Amazonian farmers' land rights?
Not farmers, indigenous people
See, recently they put a new law through congress that severely reduces indigenous land to the borders established during the late dictatorship, or immediately post-dictatorship, in 1988. An absolute joke of a border that was dreamed up by some military assholes. People in america may recognize this type of society from the times of westward expansion and think this is a thing of the past because for you guys it is. But here it is a reality. Murder is rampant. The reach of the law is incredibly limited. Government is just too weak and landowners basically run things. THAT'S WHY it's so important to donate directly to the native peoples instead of random NGOs because native people are fucking there and the more power they hold in the land the safer the land will be from agroindustrial expansion.
Well the law was vetoed by the the president and the Supremo Tribunal Federal, aka supreme federal court, labeled it as unconstitutional. Which it is, because our 1988 constitution describes native american land rights in some of its first articles. We thought this would be it for the law
But then the senate (that already overrepresents landowners in rural states) just went along and approved it anyway. I had no idea they could approve something unconstitutional. The progressives and particularly the socialists are fighting this in court. But it happens that for now the legal border is the severely reduced version.
Doesn't mean they'll just give up, because as it happens we don't have any stand your ground laws so even if you own a piece of land, you cannot legally speaking just shoot everyone there. Or attack or threaten them in any way. They'll just have long legal battles individually for the rights to occupy land based on use. Also the Xingu national park, the largest preserved land of the Amazon described as 'larger than Belgium', is being encroached by huge farms that are poisoning their water supply. The border is Visible. I'll try to find video of it but essentially you have a forest and a desert separated by a strict line.
Just last week in the south of Bahia (not the Amazon, let me explain more about the Amazon situation in a bit) Hãhãhãe leadership Nega Muniz Pataxó was shot and killed by an armed militia group that invaded and occupied the Caramuru territory.
instagram
The situation in the Amazon, specifically the yanomami territory in Roraima our northernmost state, aka deep forest, is more dire than average given difficulty of access, sheer size, and government abandonment. It's a place that depends on government aid for medicine. It's land that is being systematically invaded by gold miners, pandemic, toxins from nearby farmlands, wood extraction etc. (wood extration is rampant everywhere tho). Early 2023 saw a massive federal government operation by now president Lula to empty the mines and try to look for where funding comes from. Yanomami land is still being invaded to this day, the struggle is ongoing.
The yanomamis need support right now more than any other. Last year saw a massive heat wave that (well, one, caused a girl named Ana Clara Machado to die during the Taylor Swift concert. This is unrelated but I feel like not enough foreign media covered this, Taylor even lied about it as well.) dried up a lot of rivers, killed a LOT of fresh water animals including an unprecedented amount of pink dolphins. Access that was already hard became damn near impossible without boats. I cannot overstate how many pink dolphins were found dead.
Another technique that landowners use to clear space for farms is to just set things on fire and then occupy the empty land, which they legally can do to land that was naturally burned in a forest fire. It happened that Pantanal, another national park of swampland, was massively devastated by fires last year too
this article is from 2020, the year that the worst fire happened, but in 2023 there was another one. It's been happening yearly now due to a) deliberate action and b) climate change aggravation.
And this is not nearly all. Just off the top of my head. If you speak portuguese I recommend following the APIB or the COIAB on instagram to keep up with the news. The FUNAI is the government branch of indigenous organization, but it's not generally that well liked. Still.
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Spiderverse Characters + Visiting You Injured
Pairing: Peter B. Parker, Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy, Miguel O'Hara, Hobie Brown, Pavitr Prabhnakar x Reader
Tags: fluff, slight angst, hurt/comfort, injury, cuddles, post mission, kissing, flirting, literal sleeping together, worried!Reader
A/N: Angst time! If you know me you know it was coming sooner or later.
Peter definitely tries to play it off. You should see the other guy he says, well you have, on the news. And now that you see him you know that he was faking being okay for the cameras. He can barely take his suit off without stumbling around in pain. Powers or no powers he needs to give his body more time to recover now, he's not a teen anymore and he shouldn't be acting like's invincible just because others expect him to be. You don't need that from him, you need him to be okay because you have the rest of your lives to spend together.
Miles comes in invisible, you don't even notice him until you see him trying to take some cream and band-aids for himself. When he drops the invisibility you can see why he did, and why he chose to visit you instead of going home. His parents would ground him for life if he showed up with bruises all over his pretty face. Yes, you will kiss them better later, even the one on his lip, that is if he stops flirting for a second and takes this a but more seriously.
Gwen jokes about her injuries leaving a scar and how most people are attracted to those, plus it would make her band look even cooler. Both those things are true, but one, you're already plenty attracted to her, and two you don't want any more people going crazy over her when she's on stage. How did she manage to get here with a head injury anyways? Cuddling with you all night is not a good reason not to go to a hospital for a check up but you also can't turn her away, she's your girlfriend after all.
Miguel already sounded pretty bad over the call only to downplay his injuries when he got home. He's not injured? Really? So if you asked, he would lift you up and carry you to the bedroom right? Just the idea has him wincing in pain. If he really has your best interest at heart then he should have been upfront about it right away. How is such a big man scared of a little rubbing alcohol and bandages?
Hobie doesn't want you to see him beat up like this so he tries to leave before you have the chance to push him on the bed and start cleaning his injuries up. He's been in much worse situations before he met you, this isn't that big of a deal. To him. It is to you. His wellbeing is always a big deal to you, for the exact reason that he doesn't seem to have many self preservation skills. For others, sure, he goes above and beyond, but for himself? What's a few more punches, a few more blood drops, a few more aching bones when his reward is to come to you and pull you into bed to cuddle against.
Pavitr is really bad at lying and you don't even have to try ad break him, you just tap him on his back and hear him bite back a pained whimper. Okay, but just to let you know its not as bad as it looks. Well that isn't really comforting cause it looks pretty damn bad from where you're standing. All he needs is to wrap up a few places on his hands, arms, shoulders, and lower back and he'll be ready to go out there again. Oh no he most definitely is not. You're not afraid to tackle him to the bed and keep him there until he accepts the fact that he needs to let you take care of his injuries properly. Well... that doesn't sound like much of a threat in his mind, you should try it.
#peter b parker x reader#miles morales x reader#gwen stacy x reader#miguel o'hara x reader#hobie brown x reader#pavitr prabhakar x reader#spiderverse x reader#spiderverse imagine#spiderverse headcanon#spiderverse fluff#spiderman fluff#marvel x reader#marvel imagine#marvel headcanons#marvel fluff#marvel x you#peter b parker fluff#miles morales fluff#gwen stacy fluff#miguel o'hara fluff#hobie brown fluff#pavitr fluff#x reader
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in my head, i play a supercut of us
pairing: conrad fisher x fem!reader
summary: you come back to cousins beach after a few years away. conrad is not particularly happy that you're back - and you aren't particularly thrilled, either. too bad there's a history (chemistry?) neither of you can deny.
warnings: drinking + smoking. lots of plot + flashbacks. there is some mention of injuries, body issues/self esteem (reader is a competitive swimmer), complicated family dynamics (reader is eldest daughter), slight allusion to alcoholism.
a/n: ohhh this turned out much longer than i expected it to be!! honestly i have so many ideas that this will probably become a series. for now please enjoy the summer, childhood friends to lovers to strangers vibes ;)
you still crave lemonade, but the taste doesn't satisfy you as much as it used to. you still crave summer, but sometimes you mean summer, five years ago. (alida nugent)
now — summer, age 18
driving up to the beach house after so many summers have passed, you’re struck with the memory of your first time swimming.
it was mid-june in cousins; you must have been four years old. you stood on the edge of the pool for an eternity, until your father became impatient and threw you into the deep end. you screamed, imagined your lungs being filled with cold water, drowning in darkness. your neighbour had run over when he heard, and your father had to hold him back from jumping in to save you. instead, your life jacket kept you afloat, and soon enough you were kicking as though it was the most natural thing in the world. you discovered your love of swimming that afternoon and in that your father found his star athlete. you also realized your love for conrad fisher, the boy next door.
your summers in cousins, the friends you’d met here, conrad fisher — these composed your metaphorical lifejacket, once preserving your childhood. you’d taken it off for too long, spent years in the deep end alone, keeping yourself afloat, moving towards a carefully constructed future. now it all started to crumble, and here you were again, a different person; you wondered if the others were different, too.
it wasn't your first choice to come back to cousins, but you were determined to make the most of it. after unpacking your things, you decide to make your way to the beck house, right next door to your own family’s.
you knock once, twice, three times. there's no answer, so you figure that everyone is either in town or at the beach. you start to walk away when you hear the front door open.
"excuse me!" laurel park's voice calls. you turn around, and the shock on laurel's face is clear. "y/n! oh my god, i almost didn't recognize you!"
"four summers can do that," you note.
you hear your name from inside the house, and before you know it, belly conklin excitedly runs out and tackles you in a hug.
"hey, bells," you laugh. you notice how dressed up she is, something that changed from the oversized t-shirts and patterned shorts you remember her always wearing. "cute dress. where are you off to?"
"oh. there's a high tea at the country club. sort of like an introduction for the debutante season."
you raise an eyebrow, looking past belly towards laurel. "is this a lemon jelly belly situation?" you’re referring to the code phrases you used to exchange for different situations, depending on different flavours of jelly beans: pear, toasted marshmellow, lemon. it might have been childish (you were kids at the time), but it always worked. more than anyone, you know what it’s like to be pushed into something too quickly, too soon. even after all these years, and even though belly is only two years younger, your instinct is to defend her at all times.
"possibly," laurel sighs.
"it's not," belly insists, giving her mother a pointed look. "i wanted to try something new this summer, and susannah promised it would be fun."
the two of you walk back towards the house. when you reach the door, laurel brings you into a tight hug. the three of you walk into the kitchen, and you find yourself taking the seat you had once claimed as your own — a stool at the counter, third from the left. belly settles down next to you, and laurel grabs a pitcher of sweet tea from the fridge while you reach over to take three glasses from the drying rack.
belly explains more about the debutante season, and mentions that steven and jeremiah are both working at the club this summer. she doesn't get around to what conrad is up to, because laurel suddenly checks her watch, then sighs.
"i hate to cut this reunion short, but belly, we'd better leave if we want to make that tea of yours."
"right." belly looks at you with a frown, like she's worried you'll disappear if you're out of sight. "i'll see you later?"
you smile, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "i'll be here all summer," you promise, and belly beams.
"you’re coming to my book party?" laurel asks, though it's more of a statement than a question.
"yeah, sure," you promise, sipping your sweet tea. "i'll see you guys there."
with one final see you later and another hug from belly, you're left alone in the kitchen. you wonder if the fishers still keep the cereal in the same cabinet; if their cupboards are filled with the same sugary snacks you were never allowed to have, but you and the boys would sneak when the adults weren’t looking.
"y/n, my little mermaid, is that you?"
susannah always called you her little mermaid — inspired by your love of swimming, yes, but also that one summer you were convinced that mermaids were real, so you and belly spent hours looking for clues on the beach and painting your nails iridescent turquoise. all the adults scoffed at you, but susannah was the only one who played along, who allowed you to believe that magic was real.
instantly, you rise from your seat and hug susannah.
"you have no idea how happy i am that you're here this summer," susannah whispers. as you break away from your hug, susannah places her hands on your cheeks. she looks happy and healthy, if a little tired. you can't help but think of the years you’d been gone when susannah and her family were dealing with so much. there was only so much connection texts, calls, and emails could provide. to be here now, seeing susannah fisher alive and well?
it was almost too much.
tears threaten to spill, but you swallow them. instead, you reply: "so am i." and, certainly more than before, you mean it.
“conrad’s out back if you want to come say hi. i’m painting his portrait. he’s been a bit down lately, but if anyone can make him feel better, it’s you.”
you feel your cheeks heat up. you finish the rest of your sweet tea and put your glass in the dishwasher, not quite feeling ready to face conrad — there was a complicated history between the two of you. unresolved tension, hurtful words, that sort of thing.
“i’ll, uh, let you keep painting. i should go get ready for laurel’s book party.”
“alright. i’ll see you there, sweetie.”
“yeah,” you confirm. you start to walk away before hearing susannah’s voice again:
“and, y/n?” you turn around. “i’m so glad you’re home.”
later that night, at laurel's book launch party, you watch conrad pour another glass of wine, and wonder whether or not you should join him. his eyes catch yours from across the room, but he quickly looks away. belly ended up having a date, she'd texted you earlier, and you were roped into a conversation with your mother and susannah before you could find stephen or jeremiah.
"they grow up so fast," susannah muses. she then wraps an arm around your shoulder. "i can't believe that our eldests are 18! conrad’s off to brown in the fall — how about you, y/n?”
“princeton,” your mother boasts, draining the rest of her cup and grabbing another from a tray passing by. that’s her third glass, by your count. “we were so proud. it’s the best women’s swim team in the country.”
“stanford is a close second,” you interject. “besides, we don’t even know if i can start swimming for real by then.”
you’d broken your ankle a month and a half before. it didn’t need surgery yet and you were out of your cast, but you couldn’t return to your usual level of activity for a while — which meant no training camp, like you’d been going to the past few summers.
“you know, i did always picture you on the west coast,” susannah smiles at you. “all those beaches and sunshine.”
your mother frowns, ignoring susannah. “don’t be ridiculous. if you spend the summer doing your physical therapy and resting, you’ll be back in the water before we know it. your father and i agreed — that’s why you’re here.”
you resist the urge to argue with her and instead block her out as she brags about your siblings getting top prizes in their academic decathalon. the twins were thirteen now and had plans with their friends tonight, sparing them from attending this event. no offence to laurel or susannah, of course, but you’d rather be with your friends.
when you look for conrad once more, you notice that he's been roped into a conversation with laurel and someone who your mom had pointed out as cleveland castillo. even after all these years, you can tell when he needs backup: the impatient tapping of his foot, his eyes searching the room for an out.
after excusing yourself from the conversation, you make your way over to conrad.
"hey," you greet, nodding at laurel and cleveland. "mind if i borrow this guy? we've got some catching up to do." if either laurel or cleveland said anything more after yes, then you don't hear them, already pulling conrad away.
you lead him to the back corner of the room, near a small couch. neither of you make a move to sit; neither of you say anything. up close, you could see the shadows under his eyes, the creases in between his brows. he was always quiet, the more calm and thoughtful one of the group, but always with soft edges, especially when it came to you. now, quiet could have been replaced with brooding, and all those soft edges seem sharper.
“so,” you start. you grab the wine from conrad’s hand and take a sip. “are you gonna keep ignoring me, or are you gonna welcome me back?”
“when my mom said you were back, i didn’t believe her.” conrad looks at you, his face still. “i wish you hadn’t come back.”
stung, you take a deep breath. after everything, conrad thought that was the best way to greet you? if cold and closed off was how conrad wanted to act, you could play that game, too.
“fuck you,” is all you say before joining jeremiah and steven on the other side of the room.
steven’s eyes widen once they land on you. "no fucking way. y/n!" steven exclaims. "thought you'd never come back here, man." there’s a joyful undertone to his comment as he smiles. same old steven: always blunt, always laughing.
"yeah, well, i’m here.”
jeremiah just beams at you, picking you up and spinning you around.
“jere,” you giggle, half scolding, fully floating.
“sorry, sorry!” he laughs, setting you down. “i just — i can’t believe you’re here. how come you didn’t tell me you were coming?”
“yeah, well.” you shrug. “i thought you liked surprises.”
“well, i do. especially if it involves seeing you.”
"yo, speaking of surprises — what if we ditch this party and surprise belly at the drive-in?" stephen suggests.
you shake your head, though leaving was very tempting.
"or, instead of ruining your sister's first date, we get some booze, light a fire, and go get drunk on the beach," you suggest.
"oh, i am so down!" jeremiah exclaims. "you've got my vote."
“hell yeah.” steven grins and throws his arm around your shoulder. "you always did know how to show us a good time."
then — summer, age 11
you had plenty of bonfires before, on the beach with your parents, but that summer marked the first one with just the kids. you begged and begged, and eventually the adults were okay with it since conrad had earned his boy scout badge for fire safety in the spring.
it was the beginning of july, and an unseasonably cold evening — basically, perfect bonfire weather. jeremiah helped susannah make hot chocolate for everyone. belly wanted s'mores, so you had biked with her to the store earlier that day for the ingredients. everyone was stuffing their faces with slightly burnt marshmallows as melted chocolate and graham cracker crumbs decorated your cheeks, and you chased it all down with lukewarm chocolatey liquid. you were kids and it was summer; life was sweet, life was good.
"conrad," steven announced, turning to the boy who was pushing a marshmallow deeper into the fire. "i dare you to go dunk in the ocean." a grin erupted on steven's face, and in the glow of the fire, he looked like the cheshire cat.
"no way, man. it's freezing."
you knew the real reason conrad didn't want to go into the ocean. one night the week before, when the parents were out to dinner and the other kids were asleep, you and conrad had stayed up to watch jaws together, having rented it secretly from the local video store. ever since, conrad had been coming up with excuses to not go swimming at the beach.
"what's the matter, con? you scared?" jeremiah taunted, wearing a similar cheshire grin to steven’s.
"what?" the marshmallow conrad was trying to roast fell into the fire. he huffed, and belly handed him another one. "i'm not scared. it's just freezing."
"come on, man. you’ve gotta do it. besides, there's a fire and hot cocoa here for you when you get back," jeremiah reasoned. ten-year-old jeremiah was never very concerned about following the rules, except when it came to truth or dare.
"i'm good," conrad snapped.
"aw, i think he's scared," steven laughed.
"i'm not scared —"
"what if i went with you?" you interrupted him.
"but it's not your dare," belly pointed out as she continued carefully assembling a s'more. nine-year-old belly was competitive, so it was very important to her that the rules of any game were followed.
"yeah, but if connie —"
"is scared," jeremiah coughed under his breath.
"wants company," you continued, ignoring jeremiah. "then, it'll be more fun, right?" you were a mix between jere and belly: you were competitive, but you didn’t particularly care about following the rules. especially when it came to your friends, even more when it came to conrad.
conrad smiled at you softly. "right."
reluctantly, jeremiah, belly and steven agreed to the terms of the dare. you removed your beach cover up, and conrad his shirt, leaving you both in your swimsuits, dry even with swimming in the pool a few hours before. you ran to the water, pulling conrad with you. you stopped at the edge of the sand, waves tickling your feet and the light, and warmth, of the bonfire a recent memory. it was much cooler here, closer to the water.
"ready?"
conrad nodded once. "ready."
hands still clasped together, you jumped into the ocean, leaving the comfort of the shore behind.
now
jeremiah finds stale marshmallows in the kitchen and steven makes a bonfire on the stretch of beach between your two houses. you head home to change out of your silk mini skirt and back into denim cutoffs. you switch your cream blouse for a short-sleeved button down, left open over your favourite bralette. when you get back to the beach, the boys have invited some people over, most of whom you don't recognize.
"here," jeremiah hands you a lukewarm beer, which you accept gratefully. then, he throws an arm around your shoulder. "come on, there's some people i want you to meet."
jeremiah introduces you to a few guys he works with at the club, and some girls who are doing the deb thing with belly.
"jeremiah mentioned you’re a swimmer." gigi, one of the debs, smiles, eyeing the way jeremiah leans against you. "what's that like?"
the girls all wait expectantly for you to answer.
"intense," you decide. you leave it at that. the fire flickers a few feet away, vibrant and alive.
you want nothing more than to go back to those summer nights when you were kids. you want belly to be looking at the stars for elaborate constellations while jeremiah burns marshmallows to a crisp. you want steven to be laughing and making outrageous, impossible dares. you want the five of you together, huddled around a small fire that conrad had carefully crafted. you want conrad to be okay.
"i hear that competitive sports can like, really fuck with a girl's self-esteem and body image," gigi continues. you don't necessarily think she means it as an insult, and it's certainly not anything you haven't heard (or felt) before, but you still bristle.
"like i said: intense," you answer cooly.
"hey, man, when are we gonna get the marshmallows going?" steven suddenly appears, his face slightly flushed. he holds hands with shayla, who, as jeremiah pointed out earlier, steven is dating.
"in a bit. i asked con to pick up chocolate and graham crackers for s'mores." jeremiah looks around before saying: "speaking of: look who's here!"
jeremiah runs off to meet his brother, while you stay back and take a sip of your beer.
"looks like he brought nicole, too," steven observes.
who the fuck is nicole?
nicole, you learn as the group sits around the bonfire and roasts marshmallows, is the girl conrad is either dating or hooking up with. jeremiah isn't quite sure.
the night grows darker. the air is warm with smoke from marshmallows roasting, the smell of burnt sugar dancing around. people start to leave to go to other parties, and soon enough it's only steven, shayla, nicole, conrad, jeremiah, and you. having less people around made it harder for you to ignore conrad. nicole is nice and pleasant to talk to, but you can't help but feel something churn in your stomach when you see how close nicole and conrad are to each other. plus, she's wearing a red sox cap, and you know for a fact that conrad hates the red sox, unless that obviously fundamental part of his personality changed too.
jeremiah must have noticed, because he suggests a drinking game for the group to ease the tension.
"never have i ever gotten a tattoo."
you’re the only one to take a sip of your drink.
"i meant a real one," steven rolls his eyes.
"i do have a real tattoo." you remove the button down and point to the left side of your rib cage.
the others take a closer look, except conrad, of course. he was always an expert at pretending not to care, but so were you. tonight is a prime example: since the bonfire, you hadn't said a word to each other.
"why a starfish?" nicole asks. she leans further into conrad’s arms.
you look at conrad, briefly, then shrug. "i like the beach."
the game continues until the fire dies down, and you’re left with a burning sensation from conrad glancing in your direction, at the starfish etched on your skin.
then — summer, age 13
"that's disgusting," steven said, scrunching his nose.
"no, steven, that's friendship," you replied, just as jeremiah leaned over to take more from your cup, and vice versa.
"right, friendship." belly raised her eyebrow at you, and you rolled your eyes in response. you then decided to take an interest in your formerly white sneakers (after so many summers, they were now decorated with sand and sea water and permanent marker doodles. your mother hated them.)
that summer, belly became convinced that jeremiah had a crush on you. she said that he was absolutely lovestruck and that you were too blinded by years of being best friends with him to notice. jeremiah had made you promise not to tell belly the hilarious irony of the situation — that it was belly he so clearly loved.
"see, steven. friendship can be sweet!" jeremiah grinned, chewing the chunk of bubble gum he had fished from your cup. that was the type of cheesy thing only jeremiah could say and make others laugh unironically.
years before, when you were just kids, you and jeremiah believed you had solved the most complicated problem in the world. you loved bubble gum ice cream, but hated the bubble gum chunks. jeremiah loved bubble gum chunks, and didn't care if the flavor clashed with his favorite rainbow sherbert because he loved you even more (platonically, of course).
during the whole interaction, conrad was silent, looking out towards the beach.
the five of you had walked to the nearest ice cream shop (there was no baskin robbins in cousins, but some nautical themed place with 50 flavors and unlimited toppings). you decided to come back and sit on the porch of the fisher house (where there was a decent amount of shade) rather than on the beach. it was one of the hottest afternoons of the summer, late july, when the sun was at its peak. those who'd been coming to cousins their whole lives knew that being at the beach in such weather was only good for swimming.
you glanced at conrad, who took another bite (an actual bite) of his chocolate ice cream. he was sitting on the railing instead of the stairs like the rest of you, so you had to crane your neck slightly. you tapped his ankle, which was decorated with a temporary tattoo. the night before, the two of you had found a few left over from when you were kids and, having a sugar rush from too much cream soda and root beer (and maybe stolen sips of sangria when the adults weren't looking), decided it would be hilarious to see if the tattoos still worked. so, conrad had a cartoonish-looking shark on his ankle, and you had a similarly cartoonish-looking starfish on your arm.
"you okay, connie?" you asked. you only got a nod and a small smile in response. more and more, as summer crept on, conrad would be laughing, loud and lively, one second (exhibit A: using those temporary tattoos the night before was his idea -- we don't want them to go to waste, y/n, he grinned mischievously) and the next he'd be silent, closed off (exhibit B: since you came back from your ice cream excursion, he'd barely said a word).
even though you couldn't really read minds, you had an aching feeling that you knew what conrad was thinking in that moment, because you’d been thinking it, too: time was passing too quickly. in a few days, it would already be august, and september was just around the corner. the summer - your childhood - was as temporary as yours and conrad’s tattoos: vibrant and saturated, slightly faded, then gone.
"i wanna go swimming. anyone wanna join me at the beach?" jeremiah suddenly asked.
"i've gotta pick up the twins from day camp, but i'll try to meet you guys later." you knew that wasn't true though — things were getting more and more tense between your parents, your father storming out angrily after useless arguments and your mother passing out on the couch after one too many glasses of wine. someone needed to watch your siblings, and neither of your parents seemed pressed to find an actual babysitter.
"i'll stay with you," conrad said.
belly and steven took jeremiah up on his offer. once the other three were gone, you stood up. "scooch over." conrad shifted slightly and you went to join him on the railing, your knees practically knocking together.
"so. did the tattoo help you get over your fear of sharks?"
conrad took another bite of his ice cream, this time with a giant chunk of chocolate. "i don't fear sharks," he replied. then, he turned to you and shrugged. "i just respect them, you know?"
you bumped your shoulder against conrad's. "right. you respect them so much that you avoid the ocean at all costs."
conrad smirked. "says the girl who avoids eating on the beach because she's scared of seagulls!"
you were laughing, teasing each other, not caring that your ice cream was melting, when mr. fisher opened the front door, car keys in hand.
"oh, hey kids. we were wondering where you were."
"we went to scoops ahoy," you explained. you took a bite of your ice cream and resisted the urge to spit it out once you realized that it had a chunk of bubble gum in it.
"better watch the ice cream, huh, y/n?" mr. fisher said, smiling like he said the funniest thing in the world. he patted his stomach to further his point. "if you want to keep up at those swim meets."
you suddenly froze, mid bite. you cleared your throat and dropped the spoon back in your half-empty cup, suddenly queasy.
"dad," conrad said, not raising his voice, but definitely irritated. "what the actual fuck."
"language, conrad," mr. fisher scolded. without another word, he got in his car and drove away.
"he shouldn't have said that," conrad said instantly.
"it's fine," you replied, too quickly to be true. you set down your ice cream between you and conrad. "it's nothing my own father hasn't said to me."
being a teenage girl was brutal, and competitive swimming amplified that, especially the older you got. there was always someone faster, someone more skilled, someone better. ice cream churned in your stomach at the thought. was your father right: had you wasted your summer, not practicing your technique and stuffing your face with sugary treats?
conrad picked up your ice cream and handed it to you. he then took the spoon from his own cup, and stated: "fuck dads who are jerks."
you couldn't help but smile. somehow, he always knew what to say to make you believe that you weren't alone, that things would be okay no matter how fucked up the world was.
"fuck dads who are jerks," you echoed, raising your spoon.
"and,” conrad paused. he looked at you with gentle eyes. “to always being there for each other."
you smiled at him, heart soaring. "to always being there for each other."
you clinked your spoons together, and ate your ice cream, and shifted closer so your legs pressed together — and it didn't feel like a temporary promise.
now
you always loved mornings in cousins. the beach was particularly beautiful at sunrise, the water at its most peaceful.
the morning after the bonfire, you need that peacefulness to wash over you. as quietly as you can to avoid waking up the rest of your family, you make a fresh pot of coffee and pour some into your favourite mug. it’s from the rainforest cafe: bright green with a cartoon frog on it. you brought it back from a swim meet in niagara falls when you were 10, and got one for the fishers as well. theirs was orange with a cartoon iguana. conrad would use it all the time; you imagine it collecting dust in the kitchen cupboard now.
you make your way down to the beach, and notice someone already sitting at your usual spot by the water.
conrad doesn’t say anything when you sit next to him. he’s wearing a red hoodie over his clothes from last night, a cigarette tucked behind his ear. he glances at you as you sip your drink.
“morning,” he whispers.
you shiver, and not just from the cool morning air. you’re reminded of the last time conrad spoke to you so softly, the last time you’d caught an early morning sunrise together. such a contrast to where you are now.
“morning,” you finally reply.
as the sound of waves fills the silence between you, conrad lights his cigarette and takes a puff. then, he hands it to you. in turn, you offer him your mug. a peace offering — you both accept. the space between you becomes open, comfortable.
“since when do you smoke?” you exhale, letting the smoke warm your lungs.
conrad takes a long sip of coffee, looking out towards the ocean. “since i quit football.”
“i thought you loved football.”
“i loved it,” conrad answers. he takes another sip, then gives the mug back to you. “i don’t love it anymore.”
you take another drag of the cigarette. your fingers brush against his when you return it to him.
“once you love something, you never really unlove it,” you muse, even though you know exactly what he means — when it comes to sports.
“don’t misquote spirited away at me,” he laughs, and you can’t help but smile. the first time you'd watch that movie was when you were 8. all the kids crowded into the den of the fisher house on a rainy day. susannah prepared an impressive spread of candy, popcorn, and soda for you all. you drank dr. pepper from a twizzler straw and cried when chihiro reunited with haku.
conrad glances at you and the sunshine highlights his smile, his brown hair, the hazel of his eyes. golden, radiant.
you shiver again, looking away. before you know it, you feel something draped across your shoulders.
“i’m not sure nicole would like it if i was wearing your hoodie.” you joke, but your words are laced with a bitterness you hope conrad doesn’t catch. unlucky for you, conrad knew you too well.
“you don’t get to do that,” he snaps.
“do what?”
conrad scoffs. “be jealous.”
“well, you don’t get to tell me how to feel.”
“so, you are jealous?”
you exhale sharply; you can practically feel the wall between you two reappear.
“it’s too early, con. and i’m too hungover to deal with this.”
there’s nothing more left to say. you get up, throw his hoodie on the sand, and walk back towards your house, the beach and conrad further away with every step you take.
it makes sense that way: you were always the one to leave first.
#conrad fisher fluff#conrad fisher#conrad fisher x you#conrad fisher x reader#tsitp#the summer i turned pretty fic#the summer i turned pretty#conrad fisher imagine#conrad fisher x y/n#conrad fisher fanfic#conrad fisher angst#if you can't tell i am very very excited about this series!!#saf writes
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CONGRATS ON 500, you 100% deserve it and more !!! 🥹🌷💐 i just love your art and work so, so much!!
if it's alright, can i request 37 with könig? my husband, i need him !!!! 😮💨
Masterlist
List of prompts
What? An author, who practically inspired me to come here and start writing? An author, who gifted me the biggest brainrot for many sides of König? Sends me a request? Orla, I am such a huge fan!!!!!! I love your style, love your bold, picturesque oneshots, love your eagerness to discover so many themes. I owe you so much, you don't have an idea. I made a text and a picture in case, you don't like the text. Sorry, I'm fangirling and I'm nervous)
Does it make you nervous, when I stare?
Pairing: KonigxReader
Warning: this is NSFW. And König here is not the shyest guy on Earth, because this is colonel edition.
Oh, the things, you would let this man do to you. Unspeakable, ungodly things. Things so unhinged, you wouldn't mention them even after a few rounds of shots with your besties.
One sight of his fingers tapping the tabletop during the debriefing, and you can't think about anything other than the salty taste on your lips, left by his thumb. It would take him just one word, or maybe even one glance to make you cover his index and middle finger in saliva, as he would slide them against your tongue. You'd be so good - standing on your knees for him, sucking his fingers so eagerly, fighting your own gag reflex.
One glance thrown at his forearms, tightly hugged by black cloth, and you imagine his massive hands picking you up like you weigh nothing at all. You'd freeze, learn to hold your breath for as long as he wants, until you'd feel only the brush of his mouth against yours and the grumble of his impatience when he pushes in. The intoxicating thickness of his tongue against yours would be a taste that would rocket to your core and melt you from the inside, as he'd hover over you, pushing apart your legs with the brush of his massive thighs between yours. He'd take and take and take. And how obediently will you keep giving him anything, he demands.
Looking at his hips is a serious danger. Slick outlines of his muscles, his fingers brushing up and down his lap, black holster straps spanning his thigh make you go absolutely feral. You'd be standing still, feeling his low growl with your entire body. You'd hold your hands high against the wall and arch your back, so he can have access to every single part of your body. You'd accept him reminding you, with each his hungry thrust, where your place is: wrapped in his arms while he rubs you senseless, his teeth on your neck leaving you on the edge of pain.
All that fantasies you could hide from König, if it wasn't for his eyes: deep cold silver light, sparkling with interest, every time, he caught you staring. You couldn't make yourself look away: his stare was a predatory gaze, luring you closer, easing you into a thought of coming closer, stripping you of any bit of self-preservation instinct. Yes, when he caught your eyes - König took his time, ravishing in a sight of your desperate blush, letting go of you and turning his gaze away only when you were literally choking with shame, trying to drive away the visions that he awakened in your mind. This man was to become the end of you, and every next day it was only harder to fight that feeling off.
So when you hear, he is expanding his team, it feels only natural to surrender and use this ghostly opportunity to get closer to him. You know, your chance to join the team, his inner circle, is almost zero. By no means, you can be considered a poor professional, but the Colonel is a legend here. He doesn't want just 'the best' he wants those outstanding even from the best. And your personnel files scream 'just good' at best. But you have a motivation, the one so strong and specific, that maybe only you here have. Your obsession with König is pushing you to the darkest void, you were too scared to come to earlier - the threshold of his office.
"Come in." His voice at it finest: not too loud, not too harsh, all honey and slumber. When he wants, he can be mesmerizing as a siren.
You clench your hand into a fist behind your back, thus trying to calm the trembling that is rolling up to your knees.
"Just don't look him in the eyes, and it would be ok. Hands, yes, you can bear looking at his hands and not lose it. Afterward you can have whatever you want - your toys, your fingers, your cushions... Just look at his hands, breathe deep, and it all will be alright." Your inner monologue is interrupted only when he is pulling a folder from your hands, obviously tired of waiting for you to finally give it to him.
"What do we have he- oh..." Your breath hitches, you practically hear an uncanny smile spreading across his face.
"Die Kleine will in meinem Spiel?*" König sounds amused. And although you don't entirely understand, what he said - you get the message and nod, not daring to look him in the eyes.
"Very good. I could use such a treasure..." He flips the pages and clicks his tongue when some of your personal indicators impress him. And before you manage to exhale, he adds: "But I'll need to test you. See, if you are... ready."
"Anything, Colonel!" You blurt it out and immediately shut your mouth, realizing that it might sound ambivalent. But that's enough to make König raise from his seat and lead you from offices to firing range.
You blame it upon a rush of blood to your head, but you pass his test with flying colors. Physical tests, advanced weaponry, strategy, even sparing with König leaves you alive and just a little trembling.
The thing, that breaks you, is not even a test or a check. It happens late in the evening, when you two end up in the locker room. You just need to remove one layer of the tactical gear you were using, you'll still have your shirt and jeans on. But you stop, paralyzed, seeing out of the corner of your eye how König leans against the wall, arms folded on his chest. His gaze, you feel his gaze: lingering and hungry.
"What's wrong, treasure? Are you hurt?" You are afraid to answer and reveal your trembling voice, so you just shake your head.
"You don't know, how to loosen those straps? Want me to help you?" Again: you only shake your head, hiding your gaze.
"Is it my eyes, that make you that nervous, Schatzi*?" His accent thickens, voice drops low, as he steps closer.
You instinctively lean back, but hit the wall behind you. He takes one more step towards you and places his hand between the wall and the back of your head, so that you don't hurt yourself occasionally. But very soon, he guides you to finally look up at him. There it is: silver light, that you can never look away from, once you saw it.
"Talk to me. There can be no secrets inside my team." His voice is soft once again, but you know, it is a trap. And you fall for it.
"I just get distracted. Don't worry, Colonel, I'll learn to ignore it or to live quietly with it. Sorry..." Your voice, your entire body, is trembling.
"There's nothing to apologize for." Something sparkles deep inside his eyes. He moves his veil up, so you can see his lips, and leans right to your ear. "In fact, how about you come at the same time to my office tomorrow, treasure? After all, you've proven, you can be so good for me... It's my turn to convince you, I too can be good for you, Schatzi."
Die Kleine will in meinem Spiel? - Little one wants in my game?
Schatzi - little treasure
#konig mw2#cod modern warfare#cod#cod mw2#könig#cod x reader#konig#könig cod#könig mw2#konig call of duty#cod smut#konig smut#konig modern warfare#konig x you#konig imagine#konig headcanons#konig scenario#konig x reader#konig x y/n#könig x reader#könig headcanons#könig smut#könig call of duty#könig x you#call of duty#mw2
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I present to you: at no point in the game is Astarion actually ready for a romantic relationship
Tav is the first person he drank from
The first person he has consensual sex with after 200 years
And he says to them: no one is like you. You're YOU
He genuinely believes that Tav is the *only* person who would be this way, even if it isn't true. He does fall in love with you, he does want you, but I present to you the idea that if things hadn't gone down EXACTLY as they had, Astarion NEVER would have initiated a partnership/romantic relationship for YEARS after escaping Cazador for good.
The man is coded for survival, for self-preservation, and is inherently selfish by nature. It is only because Tav gives selflessly and determinedly reinforces wanting to be with him that he caves in and allows it, but if you try to leave he's thrilled. This is for the best he says, you don't deserve this facade from me he says.
"I don't know how to be with someone even if I want to. I want this to be real but I don't know what real is. I need to not have sex right now"
In act 2, if you break up with him, he agrees with you. He thinks it's the right thing for you because hes not ready. He won't say this unless you initiate a break up but how could he possibly let go of the best thing that's happened to him in his entire undead life? He wouldn't toss out the treasure of you even if he didn't feel ready.
It really does take a patient, calm, supportive Tav to get him in the end, and he DOES want you, I'm not arguing that
I'm arguing that that man is not ready for a committed relationship, doesn't know what a healthy relationship looks like, and in an ideal situation if he thought he had time and options in his life and if he felt safe he would have focused 100% on himself first for a VERY long time.
The tadpoles, the adventure, the pressures of the battles, the fighting the revenge the ascension and the ritual he has to fight or succumb to the fact that the sunlight is gonna nerf him again- all of this contributes to the perfect scene where Tav gets him right "out the gate", first by being a mark and a target and then by simply *not breaking it off with him*
And yes he's in love to the best of his ability to know what love is at this point
And yes he wants you very much
But the man is going through the biggest whiplash of his life and I can say with confidence that he's not... *Ready*. And after all is said and done, Tav will have to continue to be patient with many things with him. There are still a lot of hurdles. He may be with them for a long time before he wakes up one day and realizes, really really realizes, that he's ready.
The power dynamics are off, they're imbalanced. How could he say no to a perfect mark that gives him everything ? Blood, sex, waits when sex is off the table, never breaks up with him never leaves no matter how he rails against them? He can't. He won't, and he doesn't want to, but that doesnt make him emotionally ready for what a genuine relationship is.
He has to learn it, with you, over time, but I don't think he'd jump into learning that and going for it and seeing it as worth it if the situation were in any way different
Without the perfect storm of events, I don't see Astarion jumping into "commited relationship" to be clear, I'm not saying that he isn't capable of feelings or doesn't want tav it's just
It doesn't *seem* to match his character or his struggles to me. For a man that is completely self serving, he accidentally catches feels and then doesn't have the strength to cut you loose even though his act 2 confession is practically him asking you to leave him. If you take the Araj route in particular, he VERY plainly lays his shitty behaviour on the table as if daring you to punish him for it... Or maybe just expecting.
In his spontaneous scene it's softer, it's I love you but I don't know how to do this. And still if you say "I don't think you're ready to be in a relationship" he immediately agrees. In act 3, if you've stuck to him the whole time like glue, he never wants to let you go. Again, I think this level of connection is impossibly rare and everything had to happen as it did to get you there, but the power balance is off still. He says partner, equal, and he wants that. And he WILL get there
But he not only has to struggle with his past, his issues, his trauma, he has to struggle with the power imabalance that you're his Savior. YOU defeated Cazador. YOU protected him in camp and didn't stake him on sight. YOU fed him from thinking creatures for the first time. YOU are one of "a very few select people" who have had sex with him and not been slaughtered immediately afterwards.
You're everything to him
And by the end of the game you already see him trying to shift that power imabalance because HE SEES IT. If you say you'll protect him he WINCES and disagrees, he doesn't want that. He doesn't want to be below you, but he sees himself that way anyway. And to me, that's the sign that he wasn't ready, he still isn't ready,
But he will be, one day. And I think that makes it a better written romance than thousands I've read, because it's not perfect. There's grey areas. There's things that can make you uncomfortable. There's parts of it that aren't healthy and won't be for a while. Who knows how long until he feels like he's your equal? Until he feels like this relationship is something he ever would have chosen if things were different?
But he does choose you. He does. He wants you. He'd just never have gotten the chance to if it hadn't been "right place right time" imho
#its giving star crossed lovers#its giving grey area#its giving long term trauma#its giving good fucking writing#baldurs gate 3#astarion#bg3#astarion ancunin#astarion bg3#astarion romance
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I Would Never Let You F**k Me
~Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader~
Word count: 1196
This is my writing for @myrarenee ‘s ask that I have copied below:
This isn’t really a question but I think a Leon Kennedy smut where he hacks his best friends camera system and watches her fuck herself with his names on her lips. And one day she get snippy and says “id never let you fuck me” or something of the sort. He just grips her jaw and says “Sweetheart, I’ve been watching you fuck yourself while moaning my name.” “Why don’t we make it real this time”
!!!!!!!MINORS DNI! GHOSTKENNEDY IS STRICTLY 18+!!!!!!!
“But our babies would be so cute. It’s theoretical, you can agree to a stupid deal that probably won’t come to fruition,” Leon teased you. The both of you lazily sat on the couch, watching some shitty rerun on TV that you weren’t really paying attention to. You’d be lying to yourself if you claimed this whole conversation between the two of you didn’t make your heart flutter in your chest. He’s your best friend, the only guarantee in your life. Everything could go to shit and Leon would still show up and show out for you. You’d been crushing on him since the two of you met so many years ago.
He could so easily jokingly flirt with you, because unlike you, he wasn’t repressing feelings in order to preserve your friendship. You’ve fucked up so many things in your lifetime and you refused to let Leon be another one. All you could do was shake your head, “We are full ass adults, Leon. You don’t need some agreement with someone to marry and have kids if you don’t have it figured out in ten years. You’ll find somebody and will breed your spawn, you will be just fine.”
You stared at Leon as he pouted at you. Once this man had his mind set to something, it was impossible to persuade him another way. You sighed before speaking, “You do realize babies don’t magically appear right? Like we’d have to have sex to make one. Me, you, fucking. That thought alone should be enough to get your mind off your ridiculous deal.” He gasped and acted horrified at the mere thought, clutching his chest causing you to laugh hysterically.
“Are you trying to hurt my feelings? I don’t think I’m that bad in bed, good god. I think we’d figure it out just fine,” he continued to insist on his idea. All you could do was roll your eyes at him. “Hey don’t roll your eyes at me! I haven’t had any complaints from the ladies who have taken a ride on the Leon-” you couldn’t bare to let him finish his sentence.
You snapped, “Just drop it okay? I would never let you fuck me.” Your tone was so much harsher than you intended, but you were desperate to drop this conversation. You didn’t want to go there with him right now. It’d be putting too much at stake and you couldn’t allow anything to ruin your friendship. A hurt look washed over Leon’s face and you felt so guilty. You were getting ready to apologize, to back track, maybe even just agree to his little idea, but then a smirk slowly grew on his face. He can be so confusing at times.
“Liar,” he suddenly proclaimed and you cocked an eyebrow up at him. You were ready to ask him what he meant by that before he continued on, “What do you think about when you touch yourself, hmm? And don’t fucking lie to me.”
You blinked at him, trying to comprehend if he really just said that. “Excuse me-” you started, ready to give him an earful about how inappropriate his behavior was. How none of that is any of his business.
He wasn’t having any of it though. He reached out for you, gripping your jaw tightly, making you stare right into his eyes. “I’ve been watching you, watching how you fuck yourself while moaning out for me. Moaning my name and holding back all those little noises you make. Watching your face as you cum while begging me to fuck you. So yes, you are a liar. How about you be honest with me and tell me exactly what you think about while touching yourself and maybe, just fucking maybe, I’ll give you what you’ve been wanting,” he said in a low, husky voice. Between his firm grip on your jaw and the way he was speaking to you, your traitorous pussy was becoming wet extremely fast.
“How?” you questioned him in an embarrassingly shaky voice. Your throat had run dry, your body slightly trembling as your nerves grew and your anxiousness peaked.
He snickered at you, “Yeah, the government training didn’t teach me anything. Surely, I wouldn’t be able to hack into some pesky little cameras. I gotta be honest sweetheart, the security system you installed is a joke. Someone could so easily access them and watch all the dirty little things you do when you think no one is watching.” With the grip he had on your jaw, he slowly pulled you closer to him until your faces were just inches apart. “Now, you still haven’t answered my question. Cmon, it’s just me, you can tell me,” he told you in a condescending tone.
“I-I,” you struggled to speak between your dry mouth and jumbled thoughts. He gripped your jaw tighter, raising his eyebrows as if he was daring you to test him. “I think about what it’d be like if you tied me up and did whatever you wanted with me,” you tried to turn your head away to avoid his gaze, but his grip on your jaw only got tighter. He gently nodded his head, encouraging you to continue. “I think about you forcing your cock down my throat and telling me how I’m such a good girl for you. About how pretty your cock must be. How you’d spank me if I disobeyed you,” you spoke softly and he hummed in response.
“Sometimes I fantasize about you bending me over and fucking me roughly in front of others. Showing them how well I take your cock. How hard I let you fuck me,” you confessed as you both slowly leaned in closer and closer to each other. “You’d mark me up so everyone knows I belong to you. You’d make sure every step I take for the next week reminds me of you and your cock,” you told him as he closed the gap between your mouths.
His hand slipped from your jaw to your hair as he pulled you impossibly closer. The kiss started slow and sensual, but quickly turned messy and desperate. Leon didn’t leave a single millimeter of your mouth untouched by his tongue.
Without breaking the kiss, he pulled you on top of him to straddle him. You wrapped your arms around his neck as his hands traveled down your sides until they landed on your ass, giving your cheeks a tight squeeze in his big, strong hands. You couldn’t help but whimper beneath his touch.
He pulled away from the kiss, a line of saliva still connecting your mouths together as you both greedily sucked in breaths. Leon reached his hand up, breaking the line of saliva and running his thumb across your bottom lip. He slowly pushed his thumb past your lips and you instantly wrapped your mouth around the digit, sucking it as you stared into his eyes. A moan slipped past his lips at the sight of you like this.
“What do you say sweetheart? Why don’t we make it real this time? You can show me just how much you’d never let me fuck you.”
~masterlist~
#leon kennedy#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy x y/n#resident evil 2#resident evil 4#resident evil 6#leon s kennedy#leon s kennedy smut#leon s kennedy x reader#smut#leon kennedy imagine#leon kennedy fanfic#leon kennedy fanfiction#resident evil smut#leon smut#ghostkennedy#resident evil
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Beware of major Trigun spoilers!
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Read from right to left
(they are not necessarily chronological to the events in the au, I’ll just be drawing what scenes come to mind)
First part of my Vashwood Reincarnation AU that I’m gonna call “Cutting the Strings of Fate”, which planted itself in my mind some days ago! The concept takes part in the future after the Trigun Maximum events.
While I was drawing I was wondering if Vash is a bit too ooc here maybe? Tristamp Vash is a pretty diffcícult character to grasp for me, but I think considering that he hasn’t really lived through all that that he did in the anime, and just starts to remember the events in the manga, it’s ok if he’s a bit more carefree at first, and not so completely the depressed and sad puppy from the anime...Anyway, mixing the Tristamp characters with the Trimax universe was a fun idea to me! I love both iterations of the characters and their respective universes a lot, sooo why not mash them together?
Look under the cut for the whole story idea:
Many decades after the events of Trigun Maximum, Vash is reborn on the same planet. Even though still needed to sustain themselves, humans are less dependant of plants now, and the great project to cultivate the planet has been very successfull, with the first forests and occassional green that will grow out of the dry soil. Vash is a young but skillful plant engineer, who will also from time to time help out in different towns to have a look at their local plants. One day he starts having dreams about his past life, with them getting clearer and clearer and revealing more of his past. He meets Zazie, who is still the old Beast who knew Vash the Stampede. Because of that, Zazie notices that the very individual electric impulse of Vash, that every being gives off and can be detected by the worms, is indeed very close to the same signal of Vash the Stampede. Thus confirming that Vash is indeed some kind of reincarnation.
Vash's brother Nai works as a bioengineer, looking after the preservation of important vegetation in another city, where their mother Rem lives, too. Vash meets Wolfwood, who starts to help out in the plant facility as a odd-job man, and they grow closer together. One day though, an accident happens, convincing Vash and Zazie that Vash's history is trying to repeat itself. They fear that just like in the past, Nai who is obviously another reincarnation could run berserk, and that Rem and Wolfwood are, just as well, in danger to become fate's victim once again.
With the help of Zazie that can feel how, after each past event repeating itself in some way, Vash's and the others' electric signals grow closer to their past selves', they try to defy fate and bring about a happy end for everyone. (Yay!)
#trigun#trigun stampede#comic#trigun au#vashwood#vash#wolfwood#trigun spoilers#trigun maximum spoilers#zazie#zazie the beast
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Oooh, I have a request idea!! How about Gale, Halsin, Astarion and Wyll or Karlach (if that's not too many ;-;) with a modern S/O from our world that makes them try a bunch of food from this dimension. I'd love to see their reaction to trying Soda or other Carbonated Beverages, and naturally seeing everyone's reaction to canned food - especially the kind that stays in the exact shape of the can even after you dump it into a bowl 🤣
Just imagine giving them this bad boy and being like "Bon appetit!" :D
I like to think they'd be horrified 🥰 Thank you so much !!
Summary: I do love me a little whimsical AU, I can't lie - so this MAY go into the realms of silly, but you know what? It's going to be fun! It also may be a bit all over the place... but you know what I think it fits XD
The scenario is kinda the same for all of them - I hope that's okay!
Warnings: Some are a bit shorter/longer than others! Other than that... I don't think there's anything!
Notes: My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist! Original character list - please request for these too!
Gale
Out of everyone, Gale would probably be the most at-ease with you coming from another realm - he finds it absolutely fascinating.
He's asking questions all the time - is there magic in your universe? No?? What do you do, then??
You tell him about technology, and he is hooked. You start talking about electricity and immediately he's taking notes (mental or physical).
"I think I might actually have something you can try, Gale" you pull out of your pack a can of Coke (that somehow had survived the trip), and a tin of cranberry sauce that you had hoped to take home, before being whisked away to the land of Faerun. You offer him the can, and he just stares at it for a moment, observing it.
"And... what is this, exactly?"
"It's a drink."
"I fail to see how-" click "... Ah"
Isn't sure how the bubbles feel on his tongue - he almost spits out the drink the first mouthful he has. Doesn't mind the taste itself though - he would probably drink it flat, if he had the choice to.
"It's... Nice..." He seems mildly uncertain of this statement. "Though, I think I will stick to wine, and water..."
You telling him you can preserve food in metal near indefinitely? Pure 'teach me' moment. He will want to know EVERY secret on that front.
The tin of sauce confuses him. You tell him that it's sauce and he's eager to taste it - he's always on the look out for new flavours, as the self-declared cook in camp. Fish and potatoes can only keep you going for so long, until your tongue starts craving a new flavour.
When you present the unchanging... thing to him, he has no idea what to make of it. "That's... Not sauce. In fact, I don't even think that's edible - that looks like a health hazard."
He straight up refuses to use it that night, like he will not go near it, nor will he let it near the food.
Halsin
Halsin doesn't really talk about you being from another realm all that much - it doesn't overly concern him, now that you've got his trust.
He likes hearing stories of your life -even though you have to explain 90% of what you talk about to him, he's always eagerly listening to whatever you have to say.
Will not touch anything in a can - drink or otherwise.
"I... Do not feel right in trying this... my apologies."
You will not be able to convince him, whatever you try and do, he just... Doesn't want to listen to anything about that. If you keep trying to push him on the subject, he'll probably end up just walking away.
Though he's aware that preserving foods is probably a good idea for the long run, but after having heard the fizz from the can of coke? That's... A no go, for the time being.
Astarion
Astarion couldn't care less where you came from - so long as you're not going to stab him in the back, he's fine with you. You could be a crawling claw for all he cares - so long as you don't hurt him he really does not care.
Astarion doesn't typically eat anything other than his usual sanguine meals now that his affliction is out in the camp. This doesn't stop him from making snide comments on the food, though. And he makes especially snide comments when it comes to drinks - which he still partakes in quite happily.
"What do you mean... Fizzy?" His lips draw up slightly in a half-sneer, not being particularly drawn to the idea of... Whatever it was you were offering him. Though, he supposed, because it was you... He'd give it a go.
He manages to keep the beverage in his mouth after a sip, but the face he makes is beyond a grimace - clearly, he was not expecting that many bubbles.
Now when it came to the tinned sauce - or any tinned food for that matter... He'll simply laugh. "Now, I know we're short on supplies, darling, but... I don't think you'll get anyone to eat that."
"Let me put it this way... If something like that was for my meal, I'd be running for the hills! ... And probably washing my mouth out with soap..."
"I am so glad I do not have to pretend I'm eating with you... Because that-" He points emphatically to the can-shaped food. "Would not, and will not, be going anywhere near my lips!"
Wyll
Wyll is curious about the realm you come from, but doesn't normally pry. He figures that, if you're going to reveal anything about your home land, you'll do it in your own time, when you're comfortable. If you start talking about your home and your life, Wyll will do the same, to show that he's not taking the conversation for granted.
Wyll actually LIKES carbonated beverages. He savours the feel on his tongue - it's like nothing else he's ever had before, and he's instantly wanting more. If you ever do figure out the realm-hopping thing, you'll have to bring him some more - possibly some different brands or flavours for him to try.
"So... These beverages... They can... Taste of flowers, and other delightful things?" Wyll hums pleasantly at this thought. "Well, I know we have... Similar things, here in Faerun, but I am most intrigued on your realms' flavours... As pleasant as it all can be, you can only handle so much of the same..."
Though canned food doesn't.... Really seem appealing to him, he'll still give it a good try! He's down to try any food at least once.
He's not keen on the appearance of the cranberry sauce, but he has some with some turkey you've roasted, and he's in love with the taste. Sure, the appearance could use some work, but beggars can't always be choosers - at least it tasted delicious!
Absolutely LOVES tinned vegetables. He's not sure why - he knows they've got a very different taste and texture to their fresher counterpart, but... There's just something about them that he can't get enough of. Tinned carrots especially.
If you give him the chance - and Gale for once isn't trying to make dinner - Wyll will try and find a way to include tinned foods. He will get everyone to like them, he's certain of it.
Karlach
Karlach LOVES hearing anything and everything about your home realm - from the mundane to the even mundane-r. You have a special tub to bathe in, not made from wood? And it has running water, like a river, that you can control?? That's one of the coolest things Karlach has heard of - and she longs for a way to try and bring that kind of plumbing to Faerun.
Karlach isn't fussed on the Coke can you offer her - she'll drink it, for sure, but if there's the option of another drink, then she'll probably opt for that first. Purely for the reason that it's a relatively new sensation compared to the other kinds of fizzy found in drinks across Faerun.
Like, fermentation has a kick, but in comparison, carbonation is a roar, that Karlach needs a little adjusting to - she has the best reaction out of the lot of them, I think.
"Whoo- that's... Hah, that's something, soldier... And how often do you drink this? Once a day? ... Several? Several cans of this a day?" She laughs quietly, shaking her head. "You're braver than me at some things, soldier."
However, when it comes to tinned food... She loves it. She's not even sure why - perhaps it's just the fact that she loves food. You show her the sauce first, and she doesn't even bat an eye at the fact that the sauce had retained the shape of the can. She sniffs at it, before just picking it up and taking a bite.
"A little sharp... But not bad!" Another bite.
"You're meant to eat that with meat, Karlach,"
"Huh? .... Ah, well - still tastes good like this!"
She's not as fond of tinned veggies, but she'll still eat them. Normally dinner will now start with. "Aw, what? Don't we have anymore of that red stuff?"
#requests open#x reader requests#fluff#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate 3#baldurs gate x reader#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 headcanons#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#bg3 gale#baldur's gate gale#Gale#gale x reader#gale of waterdeep x reader#astarion#astarion x reader#astarion ancunin#astarion bg3#astarion baldurs gate#karlach#karlach bg3#karlach x reader#wyll x reader#bg3 wyll#wyll ravengard#halsin bg3#halsin baldur's gate 3#halsin headcanons#halsin x reader
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Dreamling fic idea I'll probably never get around to:
Dream is the highest ranking cleric in the city. His gifts are sought after by all and the cost of his services reflect it. He has treated and healed everything from Kings to Demi-Gods. But he is tired of his position. Those he cares for and treats are grateful, yes, but his services are almost expected. And the one time he fails because the bishop was too far gone, even for Dream's skills, he was berated for his failure. Whispers echoed through the kingdom that the High Cleric Dream was losing his touch, that the gods that favored him so are losing interest.
Dream begins to think that maybe they are right. Then he meets Hob - a necromancer that works out in the battlefields, mostly. Someone who he would normally never cross paths with until he does. His sister had advised him that a change of scenery could be good for him and his soul. To recharge and rest a moment and reconnect with his divine gifts.
Hob is helping carry in the wounded and sick from the most recent skirmish in the outerlands. Dream hovers, watching as this captivating handsome man, covered head to toe in grime and blood and dirt, gently guides his fellow soldiers towards the healers bay. And then he walks towards the bodies of those that had not made it.
Hob kneels by the dead, and Dream watches with curiosity. Necromancy was not viewed highly. Most necromancer positions were ones of war, raising the dead so that they might keep fighting. Dream wonders what possible reason this one might have for raising them here in the city. He freezes, thinking perhaps Hob was a traitor or spy and is planning to unleash an attack.
But no. No, as the young man's body beside him jolts to life, a wheezing, gasping noise releases from the cold dead lips. And Hob just smiles. He grabs the corpse's hands, giving it a gentle pat, and says, "Easy there. It's okay. The pain is gone, yeah?"
The corpse just nods.
"Good. Good," the Necromancer says. "You asked me, said if you died on the field-"
"That you'd bring me back, I remember." The corpse speaks, his voice rough. The sight is unsettling to Dream.
"That's right," the Necromancer says, smiling still. His voice is warm and low. Dream strains to hear it from his hiding spot. "What did you want me to say and to who?"
Dream furrows his brows in confusion. What odd game is this man playing at?
"Tell my parents... that I loved them. That I'm glad I got to serve my kingdom as I had. I... I did, right? I did good?" Dream's heart clenched at the quivering in the young soldier's voice. They remembered. They preserved their memories and thoughts and feelings. But...
Dream shook his head. No, corpses brought to life by necromancy are just reanimated. There should be no soul left within them. That is what every teaching has said before. The only exception being a corpse that is reanimated within mere minutes if dying. But this soldier died on the battlefield. He died days ago, at the least. So how?
"You fought so well," the Necromancer says. Dream sees tears fall from those warm brown eyes. "You saved many lives out there. You served king and country well."
"Good," the soldier says with a sad laugh. "Good... then. Then tell them that as well, please? And... and if you can find my brother, his name is Calrose, tell him I'm sorry for all the shit I gave him when we were young. And tell him that he was right about the ale. He'll know what I mean."
Dream feels he ought to turn away from such a seemingly private moment but he finds he cannot. He's transfixed on the sight.
"And tell my girl, sweet Alice, tell her I'm sorry I couldn't keep my promise after all. Tell her I tried and that I-" And the young corpse bursts into tears. Or sounds like it, at least. There are no tears to be shed but the pained wail that is drawn forth from his throat couldn't be mistaken for anything else. The Necromancer leans toward and holds the young boy in his arms, ignorant of the rotting flesh and stale blood.
"I'll tell her. I'll tell them all. Don't you worry," the Necromancer whispers against the man's skull. There is a large gap in his head, Dream realizes now. His skull looks to have been smashed by something strong and heavy. It is most likely how he died. "You can rest easy now, lad. Be at peace. You've earned it."
And as the Necromancer lays the young man back down, Dream watches as the boy takes a final, shuttering breath in and sees the light in his eyes fade as the air is released. He is still once more but with the barest of smiles on his lips.
Dream is dumbfounded by this. By all of this. Everything he feels he knows has been turned upside down by a single man. So he follows him. He watches his movements through the city and witnesses many times his strange version of necromancy. He also witnesses the joy and sadness that it brings to the loved ones he tells each corpses last words to.
It's in a tavern, down by the ports, that Dream officially approaches the Necromancer. Hob, of course, picked up on his newest shadow that first day. It wasn't until just recently that he realized who it was that had been tailing him. And he's petrified. Hob well knows that necromancy within the walls of the kingdom is forbidden unless authorized. He thinks Dream is there to arrest him.
But no. Dream just wants to talk. And he doesn't ever mention his position as High Cleric either. And guessing by the black hooded cloak he wears, Hob is guessing Dream doesn't think he knows who he is either.
So they meet more often. Hob tells Dream of his life, of his experiences. He tells him of his experiences with Necromancy, specifically, and how he's found that more clings to a corpse than you might think. Especially if they had things they still wished to say.
Then one day the kingdom is attacked. The forces manage to breach the outer walls. Dream is darting all around, healing as best as he can, trying to help bolster their offenses. He sees Hob in the chaos of it all, rising corpses to help the fight. It is the first time he has seen this type of magic used in battle. It is the first time he sees Hob wield his skills for a fight.
Then Hob is shot at, an arrow sticks out of his chest and blood is running down his chin as it floods his lungs. The corpses he commanded fall to the ground as his focus breaks. Dream runs to him, ignorant of the continued onslaught. He holds Hob's hand as he calls forth every ounce of his drained power to breathe life back into damaged cells. But the arrow was poisoned. Death magic clings to the arrowhead and infects Hob's body from the inside out. He removes the arrow and allows his magic to flow inside, coating Hob is a warm, white light. He is healing, but it is slow. And with Dream drained as he is, he cannot overwhelm the opposing magic as he might normally. Still, he continues. And he is winning, slowly.
And then more arrows strike the pair. Dream covers Hob's body with his own but the thick cloak he wears only protects him so much. The garb he wears marks him as a Cleric and he has heard enough stories and read enough tales to know that picking off the healers early on is a prime battle stategy.
Hob tries to push him off, to cover him instead, but Dream holds him down, even as the venom embued in each strike weighs him down, Dream continues. Hob begs him to stop. That he'll kill himself if he keeps this up. And Dream knows that he is correct. He will die. But, he finds, as he summons forth the last reserve of his strength, he does not mind dying if it means Hob gets to live.
Besides, there are still words he would say to Hob. He will see him one last time before he goes for good after all.
He pushes all that is left of him into Hob and the death magic fades away. There is only light and love left in his cells. No more poison. Hob is safe.
Dream collapses. Hob scrambles up and drags them both out of the line of fire. Most of the enemy soldiers have left, continuing up through the kingdom. There is a clashing of steel and iron and the sound of magic being flung in the distance. But all Hob can see is Dream. His face lax in his lap. It makes him want to laugh and cry all at the same time because the first time Hob gets to see that beautiful face this calm is when he's dead...
Hob pulls the arrows from his body, discarding them in a pile and pulls the man's body close to his chest. He wishes, not for the first time in his life, that his gifts were of healing instead. Hob bows his head and kisses the soft skin of Dream's forehead and he whispers the words he has heard Dream speak before. Healing words. Hob feels a strange tingle within him. It responds differently than the magic he is used to. And then it is gone.
Hob frowns. And, going off of instinct, he speaks the words that he knows like breathing. His normal powers flood through him but they are also different. It twirls within him, mixing with some sort of foreign piece. But he continues, calling forth for Dream's spirit in the Ether and guides it back to his body. A soul cannot be reattached once the link between is broken. But it can reside there for a time. This is what Hob has learned over his years of study.
And today he is proven wrong. He watches as the chain that links them heals. It glows in a brilliant white light as Dream's soul is guided by golden hands that he knows are his own magic.
Hob looks down.
Dream's eyes open. And he smiles.
The best they can figure, once the kingdom is secured and the people and healed and tended to, is that Dream's own magic stuck with Hob and allowed him to perform both Cleric and Necromatic Magic simultaneously, effectively bringing Dream back from the dead.
It is something that needs further research and is happily agreed and funded by the Crown. Hob is promoted and works side by side with Dream now as they continue their research. They still go down to the healing bays on the weekend. Dream assists with the wounded and Hob still gathers the dead's last words. Life is good. Better than is has been. And Dream finally feels like he's rediscovered his sense of purpose. And Hob? Well, Hob's finally found what he thought he's never get: Love.
#dreamling#hob gadling#dream of the endless#the sandman#ky writes#cleric!Dream#necromancer!Hob#au idea
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Ghost cores being mistaken for something like an egg is a niche in this fandom that makes me so feral, I have so many fic prompt ideas.
One thought that keeps going through my head is Danny gets hurt some how (Escaping GIW? The Fentons vivisection?) and ends up in the care of a hero. There isn’t enough ectoplasm around him to heal his wounds and keep him alive at the same time, so in order to preserve energy and focus on healing he needs to retreat into his core and go into a sort of ghost coma.
Deciding to put his trust this hero, Danny tries to explain that his injuries are too severe to heal in his current state, he ‘can’t stay’, but doesn’t have anywhere to keep his core safe. He cannot stress enough just how important his core is, how fragile it is, about how he didn’t have anyone he could trust to properly take care of it, and just begging them to keep GIW away from his core.
The hero agrees to take care of their core and not turn it over to the government, if only to calm him down so they could attempt to treat his injuries to the best of their abilities. Hearing them promise to take care of him until he’s well enough to take care of himself gives Danny enough relief to just disappear. He literally fades from existence, leaving behind a bright green orb the size of a crystal ball.
In a mix of adrenaline, panic, and blood loss, Danny gives the hero the impression that he’s an meta/alien that escaped from government experimentation, begged them to take care of his ‘core’ and keep it safe from the government that was experimenting on him, died on their couch, and left behind a fucking egg the color of the Lazarus pit/Kryptonite.
After some time Danny heals enough to be semi-conscious and, feeling a little guilty/embarrassed about making this random hero responsible for him, tries to force his reforming before he has enough ectoplasm to return to his original teenage/adult form. He ends up reforming way younger than he really is (maybe he has just enough ectoplasm to form as a toddler/baby instead of a teenager, maybe he reforms at his ghost age, maybe his mind is so focused on the embarrassment of being cradled and cared for like a baby that his ectoplasm is like: “Oh, OK. So we’re a baby now :D ”), giving more credence to the thought of it being an egg that just hatched.
Just shenanigans with the hero trying to take care of an egg then a meta baby, while said meta baby tries to figure out how to get back to his original state.
#dp x dc#dp x dc prompt#core mistaken for an egg#caring for a core au#Maybe not Danny. Maybe it’s Dan who’s timeline was destroyed#who is trying to give himself a second chance at being a good person and trying to find his place in the world/multiverse#To be given the chance to almost literally be reborn and get life free of expectations and loss#Would he even want to clear up the misconception and attempt to return to his old form
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If you gave the clones flower, like a bouquet of flowers, what do you think their reactions would be?
You can of course include as few or as many clones as you'd like and any Squad.
💐 💐 💐 For you, Dear!
Omg thank you so much for this ask???
Oh this is fun! I made this into a Clone x Reader HC/Drabble thing and got a bit carried away.
Warnings: None. Mentions of kissing. Established relationship. Reader not described. Didn’t proofread, sorry. 😅
The Bad Batch + Bonus Rex under the cut! Hope you enjoy my ramblings~
💋💐 You Give The Bad Batch (+Rex) Flowers Headcanons/Drabble 💋💐
Hunter
He’s confused at first, wondering why you are holding a handful of flowers out toward him.
You tell him you thought of him when you saw the flowers. They made you happy, so you hoped they’d make him happy, too.
Hunter accepts them, not used to receiving gifts, especially thoughtful ones like this.
He’s so used to giving, leading, bearing responsibility, it catches him off guard how nice it feels to be taken care of in return.
The flowers smell sweet, reminding him of you.
He smiles and cups your chin gently, bringing you in for a passionate kiss, feeling some of his stress melt away.
“Thank you, mesh’la. They are beautiful, just like you. What would I do without you looking out for me?”
He tucks one of the flowers into his hair above his ear, wearing it the rest of the day, his thoughts never straying from you.
Crosshair
You hold a flower out to him, and he just stares at you.
“What are you doing?” He finally speaks.
“I’m giving you a flower.”
Crosshair raises an eyebrow, chews his toothpick, hesitantly taking it from you.
He asks what he’s supposed to do with it.
You roll your eyes and tell him it’s a gift.
“I saw it and thought of you.”
Crosshair doesn’t know how to respond or react at first, being given a kind gift was never something he experienced.
You get slightly annoyed and insecure at his silence, knowing this was a dumb idea in the first place.
You quickly turn from him, mumbling under your breath that it was a stupid thought and that you’ll leave him alone, embarrassment heating your cheeks.
You avoid him all day. Why did you think he’d want a flower of all things?
When you retreat to your bunk that night, a beautifully arranged bouquet of flowers is resting on your pillow with a small note. “Thinking of you, too.”
Wrecker
He is THRILLED when you hand him over a large bouquet of flowers.
Wrecker picks you up and hugs you, almost crushing the bouquet between the two of you.
“All of these are for me?” He suddenly becomes a little sheepish, since he wasn’t expecting such a sweet gesture from you.
“They are bright and wonderful, so I thought of you when I saw them.” You smile as Wrecker’s ears turn red at your admission. He kisses you softly, thanking you for the flowers.
Wrecker places the flowers in the cockpit of The Marauder where everyone can see them, proudly and lovingly exclaiming they were from you when his brothers asked.
He keeps one flower in his utility belt, smiling all day whenever he sees it.
Tech
Tech doesn’t quite understand the gesture at first.
He inspects them, beginning to spout facts about each flower, assuming you were giving them to him for research.
You giggle, telling him they weren’t for research, just as a gift.
“What an interesting sentiment. You went out of your way to choose these just for me? To keep as a gift?” He cocked his head, the gears turning in his head.
“Ah, it’s symbolic of how you feel for me. I understand now. Thank you, my dear.”
Tech kisses you sweetly as you smile, and carefully places the flowers on his workbench to look at while he tinkers.
Tech begins a deep dive into researching flowers, analyzing your favorite colors, scents, and specific flower meanings to reciprocate the gift. He wants to give you the perfect arrangement to symbolize his affection for you in return.
He preserves the flowers you gave him so he can always be reminded of your love.
Echo
You tell Echo to close his eyes, saying you have a surprise for him.
He smiles, giving you a look, but obliges.
“Ok, open them!
He sees you holding out flowers, offering them to him. He smiles softly, his eyes widening in surprise.
“Are these for me?” He asks, gently taking them from your hand, not quite believing he deserves such a delicate and beautiful gift.
Even though you and Echo have been together for awhile, he still harbors insecurities about his body.
“I thought you might like them.” You say. “You’re always doing so much for me, you deserve something nice, too.”
Echo brings you into an embrace, not knowing how he was so lucky to have someone as special as you.
“Thank you, mesh’la. They mean a lot to me, just like you.”
Echo places the flowers in his bunk, gazing at them as you fall asleep curled up next to him.
You saw beauty in him when he didn’t, and the flowers meant more to him than you’ll ever know.
Rex
You’ve noticed Rex was stressed (more than usual) and wanted to get him something nice.
When you hand him the flowers, Rex (internally) panics.
He thinks he missed your anniversary or some other important event. Why else would you be giving him something as nice as flowers?
You can see the panic flash in his eyes, and you immediately tell him the flowers were just for fun. A gift to show him how much you love him, that’s all.
They were blue, matching his 501st colors.
Rex relaxes, now overwhelmed with feeling at the romantic gesture from you.
“You’re always thinking of me, cyare. How can I repay you?”
“I can think of a few ways. How about we start with a kiss?”
Rex smirks as he wraps you in a warm embrace, kissing you tenderly. How did you always know exactly what he needed?
He tucks one of the flowers in his breastplate, wearing your love for all to see.
💐Hehe thanks for reading!💐
Tags: @wanderer-six @the-cantina @pb-jellybeans
Let me know if you want to be tagged in my fics!
#The bad batch#the bad batch x reader#hunter x reader#echo x reader#tech x reader#wrecker x reader#captain rex x reader#starrycatwrites#the bad batch x you#hunter tbb#wrecker tbb#tech tbb#echo tbb#the bad batch headcanons#crosshair tbb#crosshair x reader#clone force 99#the bad batch fanfiction#captain rex
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Yan Chrollo x F Reader.
Companion piece to Idée Fixe.
(A journal entry that will never see the light of day, for it is meant to rot in darkness. Even the amoral owner is bound to agree with this).
Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, Chrollo is creepy hooooly shit (he needs a hobby), and religious imagery.
Word count: 1k.
I have become hopelessly smitten with a woman who is, for lack of a better word, strange.
She tells me she’s “probably agnostic, because that word sounds cooler than atheist”, while often exemplifying the religious doctrine she grew up in. She condemns herself for qualities she’d pardon in others. She’ll get excited over the most mundane things, such as pigeons, or when her rewards add up enough to get her favorite drink for free. I’m allowed to steal a certain amount before she stares at me, not quite comfortable enough to express her dissatisfaction verbally, yet undoubtedly pondering the perfect string of words to avoid offending me.
The extent of her consideration for others is perplexing. There is no advantage to be gained by placating strangers, though her insistence on the matter would almost convince you otherwise. She never says “you’re welcome”, it’s always “of course”, as if the act of going so far out of her way is expected of her. If not that phrase, she’ll say “it’s no problem”, on the off chance the individual may think they burdened her.
She’s strange, yes, but we’re alike in many ways, so I wonder what that’d make me.
I’ve taken on innumerable roles throughout the years. I know how to judge the weight of my every word. My motivation for doing so is self-serving in nature. People, to me, are locks that require the right combination to crack. From what I can tell, she’s come to realize this too. Instead of pursuing this advantage, she shies away from it. Originally, I thought it was nothing more than people-pleasing, but it goes beyond that. She loves humanity, the same humanity I deem worthless. It’d be easier for me to understand if there was an ulterior motive. Alas, that'd be doing her a major injustice.
My initial intrigue in her was nothing more than a passing fancy. I had time to pass, and she just happened to be in the vicinity, reading a book I’m partial to. I thought I’d give her a few minutes of my time and then be on my way. Presently, however, If I believed in fate, I’d go so far as to say our paths were destined to cross. She is every part of myself that has died a slow death. Optimism, empathy, passion… they mix together to form the essence of her being.
I didn’t intend to give her so much of my time. She became indispensable to me before I realized what was happening. In retrospect, perhaps I knew deep down that this was the type of person I’d been looking for. Someone I’d struggle between wanting to ruin or preserve. I erred toward the former at first. If I didn’t wake her from her naïve reverie, another would inevitably come down the line and do it themselves. The mere concept was unforgivable.
As time passed, it became clear she wasn’t living in a dreamlike state, but was perfectly aware of her surroundings and the people who inhabit them. This left me at an impasse. How do you destroy someone who has already annihilated and rebuilt themselves? There are ways, yes, yet no longer did the idea appeal to me. I wanted something new from her, though the specifics alluded me. What I did know, however, was that this strange woman would touch many lives for the better.
This was a constant torment. I’d have to go about my business, knowing full well she’s making others smile, laugh, and otherwise brightening their day elsewhere. My chest would become impossibly tight whenever I fixated on this. She holds qualities people are inevitably drawn to. She is radiance incarnate, so easy to adore. A light like that is visible far and wide.
When I pressed back against her dearly held beliefs, instead of fading, she burned ever brighter.
I know she feels it too — this invisible rope that binds us. She’ll happily talk to me for hours, even when I forgo superficial charm and express slivers of my depravity. She sees it, acknowledges it, and seeks me out all the same. I find myself talking more than I meant to when she’s around. She challenges me, interestingly enough. Her arguments often have holes and aren’t by any means polished, but she cuts to the heart of things.
She is my personal torment. I want every inch of her for myself. Her unique mind, heart, soul… would it be enough? Could I stop there? Or would I keep going, taking more and more, until we were essentially one flesh?
It’s by her recommendation I’m writing any of this down. She said “I am in desperate need of intensive therapy” and sent some links to her recommendations. I’m inclined to give in to her requests since she asks for so little, but that might be the one I have to refuse. I cannot recall the last time I met someone this amusing, if ever. The inner workings of her pretty little head are a mystery I long to unravel.
Displeased as I am to admit it, a day will pass when she no longer looks at me the way she does now. My true identity can’t go unknown forever, the revelation is inevitable. Still, I won’t let her go. My grip will only grow tighter. If her ire is my penance for possessing her entirely, then I’ll accept the sentence and chip away at it over time. Emotions are transient. With the right encouragement, I can guide her back to my arms, even if she considers the embrace a scourge.
When we first met, she said something that has taken permanent residence in my mind.
“So long as I can say I helped one person, that’s good enough for me.”
This was always bound to be my benediction and her condemnation.
From that moment onward, her life was mine to do with as I please. There are many far more worthy of her than I, which is why I’ll never give them the chance. I’ll deprive the world of her vibrancy. It could become engulfed in eternal darkness, and still, I’d happily refuse to give her back. Let them lament, weep, and gnash their teeth.
In my youth, I set out to be the greatest villain. Never have I been more willing to carry out the actions befitting such a lofty title.
This is the curse of a wicked man’s love, [First] [Last]. Revisit your religion and pray fervently. For only a god could save you from the future I’ve planned for us.
#yes he probably wrote this with an ink and quill by an oil lamp#chrollo x reader#yandere chrollo x reader#yandere#yandere x reader#hxh x reader#yandere hxh x reader#my stuff
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When Another Slasher Kidnaps You - Slashers Preferences
Warnings: Mention of murder, cannibalism, kidnapping
Asa Emory
Asa would arrive home to an absolutely trashed house, his carefully collected and preserved insects were all on the floor, shattered, that alone could have made the man rage but then he saw the blood.
This is when he noticed his lovely little butterfly was gone. And just where were you?
He looked around the house, trying to see if you were hiding but no, then arrived the police and told him their suspicion.
He was told Michael Myers broke into his house and kidnapped you. The police promised to do everything in their power to get you back, but Asa had other ideas.
He started to look for you himself, because how dare anyone break into his home and take his most precious butterfly? And once he found you, he knew what he needed to do.
While Michael was strong and. very durable, he was not smart, Asa wanted to play on that and set as many traps for the man as possible.
Michael would fall into all of them, but never stop or die. But that wasn't the plan, the plan was to get you out of there while Michael is distracted.
Asa got to you, and he could tell you were in shock, he saw it in many of his victims and it broke his heart to see you like this.
He heard the sirens so he quickly got you out and home. Leaving Michael to the police, but making a promise that he would personally make sure Myers is dead for what he did to his favourite pet.
Jesse Cromeans
Jesse was just finishing up with a Piggy when he got the call that his man cannot locate his wife.
Aparently, you went to the store and on your way back you decided to have a look at Crystal Lake and now no one could find you. Only the GPS in your car told them the location.
According to the people, there was a killer at Crystal Lake, so Jesse knew, he needed to act fast.
He drove to the location and without any hesitation started looking for you. He found your car first, thankfully, no blood.
Then, he moved more into the camp, he was still mindful of the traps and wires around the place.
It was clear to him, someone was either hiding something or hiding in this camp.
When he saw the old wooden houses, he headed inside his trusty blade in his hands at all times.
The house was empty, except for the head he found in the bathroom wall.
But where could you be?
Didn't take long for Jesse to find the underground portion. He stopped in his tracks as he saw you with chains around your wrists, bound and crying.
"He will be back soon." you said and Jesse nodded. "He is not smart, but I don't want you to kill him, just get me and let's leave." you said as you tried to control your voice so Jason wouldn't hear you. Then both of you heard the door open and Jesse moved to hide. Jesse watched as a huge man appeared with a hockey mask on his face.
You knew that if Jesse tried to fight, he would lose, you saw what Jason is capable of. You needed to reason with your husband.
"J-Jason," you said and the huge man turned to look at you, "Hungry." you simply said and he nodded once before leaving upstairs again.
"H-He would kill you, I saw it, he... he is not human. Just get me and let's run please." it was easy to sense the desperation in your voice, so Jesse didn't argue, instead he just got you out of the chains and took you with him.
Jason noticed you were gone a couple of minutes after, he ran after you but by the time he got to you, you were already leaving in Jesse's car. Jason's heart broke but at least you were back with your husband now.
"I'll send people in and kill him." said the voice from his phone but you took his hand into yours as he drove.
"Please, don't. He never hurt me. Let's just leave him okay? I promise I will not wander around anymore. No need to kill him."
"Did he touch you?"
"No," your answer was strong and immediate. It was the truth. "Jason is... a lost boy. He was protecting his land, he never hurt me."
Jesse believed you and decided to move on, having you back was all he needed now. He needed to calm you, give you a shower and spend time with you.
But Jesse was still curious how did you know so much about this Jason.
Jason Voorhees
Many years after the lady he liked so much escaped, Jason couldn't imagine finding someone much like her.
But he found you, his lovely, innocent, caring and beautiful wife.
He knew you would never run away. You proved that time and time again.
"If I ever disappear, I didn't run, I was taken." you would say jokingly but one day, that became reality.
The house he spent so much time building for you was broken into and things were thrown around. You were gone and he could tell it wasn't by your choice.
Jason knew what he needed to do.
He headed into the big city to find his wife.
Meanwhile, you looked at the man in front of you. Patrick Bateman as he introduced himself and gave you his business card, was a very strange man.
He told you he saw you in the forest and knew he needed to have you.
The man was clearly not okay, he made you watch him work out, he would flex his muscles, and you just begged that somehow Jason would find you before it will be your head in his fridge.
Then you heard a loud bang coming from the entrance, the door was broken off.
"Run," you told Patrick just as Jason came into the room.
Seeing a man with a clear jacket and an axe in his hand while you were tied to a chair, Jason was quick to act.
You didn't watch but judging by the sounds, you heard a neck being broken and an axe being swung.
You didn't watch when Jason released you and guided you out of the penthouse.
You had an idea that if this won't end with you being dead, it would end with Patrick's death.
But you tried not to think about it too much as you headed back home with Jason.
It was weird to be on the subway with him, but as his hand never let go of you, you knew he was very happy to have you back by his side.
Michael Myers
You promised to be back soon, so something had to have happened.
You were only supposed to go on errands. So, with his signature knife in hand, Michael headed out to find you.
Going through the neighbourhood, he left victims behind.
Just as he was about to enter a house, you came running into him. You hugged him, clearly out of breath as you were running for so long.
“Kill, him.” you said pointing at the man running after you, a man in a nice suit.
Michael didn’t need to be told twice, he immediately went in for it.
“You can’t kill me, I’m Patrick Bate-“ but the man couldn’t finish the sentence as Michael’s knife found its way into his skull.
After a couple minutes you calmed down.
“I’m fine, he didn’t hurt me. He had an axe and wanted to kill me but I got away.”
You and Michael headed back home, after that day, he never let you out of his sight.
Yautja
Let's be honest only a Yautja would be silly enough to kidnap you from a Yautja.
Your mate is built for hunting so, to him, this is an easy mission.
That doesn't mean he would be reckless or underestimate his opponent.
It clearly had to be either a very brave or a very cocky Yautja that dared to take you from him.
Your Yautja was considered an Elder, someone with a high rank who should be respected. So, to have his little human taken from him was a clear attack on his status.
But he was more worried about you than his status.
You were taken by another tribe, you recognized them from their last visit, you thought their leader had an eye on you, and you were right.
But you still didn’t expect them to kidnap you.
Perhaps he did so he wouldn’t have to face your mate in combat, knowing he would lose against an Elder.
You knew your mate will come and get you.
You knew he won’t leave you behind.
And you were right. And again, you didn’t expect this new Yautja to use you as a shield in order to run away. His plan to get an Elder’s mate failed and now he needed to flee.
But he wasn’t so lucky.
Hunting him down was easy, you could tell from the movements of your mate and even his stance.
He stood like a proud Yautja as he reclaimed what is rightfully his.
Patrick Bateman
Patrick would fully not notice you were kidnapped. Then, one evening when he arrived home, it hit him like a train.
You were gone and he didn’t know where you were. He was very very angry, how dare anyone touch what is his?
Patrick was on a mission to find you and avenge you.
Meanwhile, you were kidnapped by a man who had some sort of silver skull mask and a video camera on his shoulder.
It was clear the man wanted to kill you but. what a sadistic fucker, he even wanted to film it.
You could only hope Patrick would come to your rescue before this man can do anything at any second.
And surely enough, Patrick did show up.
Knocking the man out with an axe while laughing.
“Don’t touch what’s mine!” he yelled one last time before he freed you and off you went. After this incident, Patrick would put on the front door some extra locks.
Thomas Hewitt
Sweet Thomas was down in the basement when he heard a commotion. By the time he arrived upstairs, he saw a man in a mask and a suitcase. Tommy saw the suitcase move and judging by the noises, he knew you were in it.
Didn’t take long for the man to try his luck with a knife but Tommy was quicker.
You heard the two fight outside and all you could do is hope that your Tommy wouldn’t be too hurt or worse.
But soon, someone opened the suitcase and you saw Tommy standing in front of you, you quickly hugged him as he groaned in pain. The man did manage to get a couple hits and cuts in but Thomas was way too much for him. You watched the man’s body as Thomas made sure you were okay.
Besides some headache, you were alright.
“He wanted to take me, talked about his collection or something.” you told Tommy. But you knew you didn’t need to worry about the man anymore. He soon became small pieces and later, you made the perfect stew. As morbid as it might sound.
You were still grateful for your husband who saved you. So after patching him up, you made sure to stay by his side the entire day.
“I think, he thought I lived alone so that’s why he targeted me.” you said during dinner as Thomas ate. “He thought it would be an easy job, but he didn’t expect my brave and very sexy husband to turn up.”
Thomas blushed as he just continued to eat his food. Just how glad he was he heard the commotion and saved you from being taken.
Vincent Sinclair
Since Vincent lived so secluded from society, he never truly feared that you would get taken by anyone, that is until the Hewitt family came into the picture.
They were all cannibals as he learned from his brothers. He feared you were taken to be cooked, so he got his brothers and off they went to find you.
Bo being the loudest of the three would go up to the porch and ask questions about a lady and if they have seen anyone while Vincent and Lester looked around the house.
They found you in the basement with a man who was wearing a mask.
“And I thought we were fucked up.” said Lester as he saw the body parts. But all Vincent saw was you.
He was relieved to find you were still alive and well.
The plan was simple and easy, Bo distracts the family while Lester and Vincent rescue you.
It was easier said than done.
When Bo made enough noise upstairs the man left you alone and it was their chance. They needed to be fast.
“Lester, gosh, they…Vincent, oh boys we have to be quick.” Lester quickly removed the ropes from around your legs and wrists while Vincent watched the door.
Soon you three were out as you could still hear Bo yelling with the Hewitt’s. You just hoped he wouldn’t do anything reckless.
This is when you noticed Vincent staring at you as Lester drove his car back home. Vincent was running a finger along the bruises the rope left on your wrist.
“I’m fine, Honey. They didn’t do anything to me, really.” you smiled at him and this was the moment he realized, he will never ever let you out alone.
#asa emory x reader#asa emory imagine#asa emory imagines#the collector x reader#the collection x reader#slasher#slasher x reader#slasher imagine#slasher imagines#jesse cromeans x reader#jesse cromeans imagine#jesse cromeans imagines#michael myers x reader#michael myers imagine#michael myers imagines#jason voorhees imagine#jason voorhees x reader#jason voorhees imagines#vincent sinclair x reader#vincent sinclair imagine#vincent sinclair imagines#house of wax fanfiction#thomas hewitt x reader#thomas hewitt imagine#thomas hewitt imagines#yautja x reader#predator x reader#patrick bateman x reader#patrick bateman imagine#American Psycho
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