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dingbatnix · 7 months

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Deity (part 1)

So I got to thinking one day, about how everything would have effected Goggs, Sapnap, Karl and Dream after the events of Deity. I mostly wanted to focus on George, cause honestly? He's more fun to write when he's freaking out, and I wanted to mess with the dynamic that is 'Dream is XD,' i.e., Dream is a god and doesn't know how humans work, but he's trying.

Also, I might have gone too heavily into the, 'George is freaking out o gosh,' but idk. The fic grew its own legs.

It's not g/t or anything btw.

Anyway, I think that's enough rambling. Onto the fic!

Word Count: 5,513

Warnings: Fear, Flashbacks, Panick Attacks, I think low-level PTSD/trauma, descriptions of gore, injuries, ectcetera ectcetera.

There had to be at least twelve zombies stumbling after him. Now, normally, they wouldn’t have been a problem for George to handle, (he was an excellent swordsman, and an even better bowman) but as of right now, he was running on about three and a half hours of sleep. The last time he’d rested in any sort of meaningful manner was well over a week ago, and that was only because he had knocked back a weakness potion strong enough to lay a ravager out flat.

Sure, his friends were worried about the possibility of him overdosing on potions (he’d be fine, he only ever drank them on the really bad nights!) And sure, maybe it was an unhealthy way for him to combat the near-constant night terrors, but what else was he going to do!? Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was Sapnap’s fear-stricken face disappearing behind a jagged black maw, all he could hear were his own screams of terror mixing with his friend’s, all he could feel was the slick, oily flesh closing around him as he plummeted down, down, down to where he could hear Sapnap’s shuddering cries of despair far below him. It had been months, and he still couldn’t get away from the vivid, mind-crushing images of his death. Not-death. Whatever.

George ducked beneath the rotting hand of a zombie as it swung clumsily at his shoulder, stumbling over his own feet and barely managing to dodge the swipe of another undead hand. He raised his sword and brought the blade down through a pair of brittle knees, sending one of the zombies crashing to the ground.

While he still felt sluggish, he hadn't lost too much of his motor control, and he was still able to defend himself. Unfortunately, he was quickly losing steam in this seemingly endless fight.

George had been exploring the land around the edges of his, Sapnap’s, and their other friend Bad’s house in a desperate attempt to evade the cold, grasping claws of sleep when he had been ambushed by an enormous congregation of mobs. He had some armor on, thank the Go…thankfully, an iron chestplate and a helmet that he had snatched up out of a random chest before he left the house, but it wasn’t enough to really defend against the amount of gnashing jaws and greedy fingers chasing after his flesh.

He had taken out a lot of them, but their numbers would have overwhelmed even Dr—Sapnap, and while George was normally up to par with his arsonistic friend, the sleep deprivation was getting to him, grasping at his limbs with clinging, sticky tendrils and tripping up his every step.

A sudden, heavy snap jarred his entire left arm and shoulder, and he stared in dismay at the jagged, broken line splitting his sword in half clear down to the crossguard. He continued to wield it anyway, unwilling to drop his only weapon, and it lasted through several heavy hits until the bisected blade shattered in a spray of shrapnel. George dodged the shower of sharp metal with a fervent cry, scrunching his eyes shut and scrambling backwards.

In the back of his mind, he heard a horribly familiar, horribly fond voice telling him that it was terribly dangerous to go exploring at night without backup, and that George should let him know if he ever planned to do so. George shivered, pushing the overbearing, seemingly sticky presence away from his mind and tried to focus on the fight.

Rotting fingers snagged on the rim of his chestplate, and he felt more than heard the snap of leather as one of the straps keeping the iron together broke under the sudden pressure of the zombie pulling at it.

Above him, he heard the shriek of a phantom, and then, horribly, the answering call of another. George blinked back the exhaustion stinging at his eyes and shoved at the rotted bodies crowding in and snatching at his limbs. Putrid flesh split under his fingers as he stumbled away, leaving a gross, oily residue on his hands that didn’t quite come off when he swiped his hands against his trousers.

Greedy claws scratched at the back of his neck as he scrambled to run, and he felt his helmet being ripped off by what could only be one of the phantoms following after him from above.

George found himself driven to the top of a cliff. It was relatively small, maybe only about thirty feet high, but there were many, many trees scattered at the base. Some of the branches reached up near to the cliff’s edge, and George warily considered jumping as an escape option. He’d probably break a couple of bones, and at the very worst, be impaled by a stray tree branch, but it'd at least get him away from the slow, shambling force of zombies dogging after him.

His gaze flashed back to the monsters trundling steadfastly behind him, a small line of tension loosening in his shoulders when he saw how far they were. It wouldn’t take them long to catch up, but he had at least a moment of breathing room.

He twisted back around, grateful for the lull in mobs, and stared down at the intimidating drop to the distant ground. If he aimed for that small patch of bushes, maybe, or tried to grab onto that thick branch just a little further to his right—!

Something slammed into his back, screeching against his armor and sending him plummeting face-first off the edge of the cliff. George screamed, flailing as he crashed into the rough upper branches of the trees. Sharp leaves and sticks scratched and tore at his face and clothes, and he had to bring his arms up to shield his face, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to protect them from the painful debris.

A branch caught on his chestplate, slowing him for barely a moment before his weight and momentum had the remaining leather straps holding it together snapping with an awfully final sound. He shrieked, pawing uselessly at the armor that was already high out of his reach as the impact spun him around midair, sending his mind whirling with nausea.

George hit the ground shoulder-first with a harsh whoomph and a gradual puff of dust that drifted away from his body. He cried out, curling inwards as his new injuries rapidly made themselves known. Scratches along his sides and arms and even his neck stung, and various bruises littered all across his body were throbbing in unison. His entire right side was on fire, and he couldn’t tell if any particular part of his side was hurt worse than anything else.

He forced himself to flop onto his back with a choked, muffled scream, the singular movement causing agonized waves to radiate down through his side. He forced down the unwanted tears burning behind his eyes and attempted to suck air into his lungs, mentally counting through the numbers Bad had recently coached him through.

Nothing felt broken, at least, but George was sure that some of his ribs had popped out of place. Every time he tried to breathe in, starbursts of light would fill his fuzzing vision, and a horrendous pain stabbed through the side of his torso, where his ribs were.

He could not move his right arm. The sudden realization froze George in his tracks, and his breath hitched up. The accompanying spikes of pain made it stutter back into a shaky, weak rhythm, but that did little to console his mind.

Either his arm or shoulder was severely dislocated or…severely broken. Either option was very unpleasant for George’s near future. George swallowed, nerves and sudden apprehension drying his throat. If he healed it, it would hurt, but if he left it as it was, it would get worse.

With the trembling fingers of his left hand, he pulled his last, already mostly used-up regeneration potion from his pocket, thankful that it hadn't shattered when he landed, and downed the last few sips remaining in the bottle. He felt something in his right arm crunch back together immediately after, the sudden flash of agony whiting out his vision, but then he could move the limb again, albeit carefully. It didn’t do much for the rest of his wounds, for there was far too little of the potion and he had far too many injuries, but it took enough of the pain’s edge off that he could sit up.

The motion had him gasping in great lungfuls of air, sweat beading along his temples as he pushed through each flare of pain rolling from his ribs. He curled forward and tried to force air into his lungs, wishing he had Bad with him. The demon always knew how to help, be it with panic, or with awful, debilitating injuries.

George bit his lip, trying to distract himself from the throbbing ache pulsing throughout his body. He had to get up, had to get moving. He needed a shelter of some sort, so he could collapse, nurse his wounds, and wait for dawn. Then, he could start making his way back home.

Holding in a whine, he worked himself up to his feet and braced against a tree. The effort it took to stand alone nearly made him black out, and if it weren’t for the support of the tree, he would have fallen back to the ground. George swayed in place, vision spinning in a sickening dance of motion as he breathed deep and slow.

Out of nowhere, he heard the worst sound in the world. The slow, shambling steps of multiple zombies, and even the telltale hiss of a creeper flooded his ears, sending panic and no small amount of despair crashing through his system. Why couldn’t the universe cut him a break? Why did he have to suffer?

Frustrated tears stung at the edges of his vision, and he swung his gaze up to glare at the newest obstacle in his road to survive. Four zombies straggled towards him barely two meters away, and beyond them, the mottled yellow of a creeper slunk, lagging several meters behind.

His fingers curled around the only weapon he could find, a loose piece of bark sticking slightly out from the trunk of the tree he was using for support. He tore it free, managing to break off a piece as long as his forearm and about as wide as his hand, and brandished it at the approaching mobs. If nothing else, he could go out fighting. There was no way he’d survive against four zombies and a creeper in his current state.

Unless…but he shook that thought off. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Just the mere thought paralyzed his throat and made his heart stutter.

As the zombies converged on him, George managed to gut one with the sliver of bark, necrotic flesh tearing open easily under the jagged wood. Intestines spilled out, and then George was being slammed back against the tree trunk, putrid jaws snapping at his limbs and rotten hands scratching at his face. George cried out when teeth fastened themselves into his left elbow, making him lose his grip on his piece of weaponized tree bark. He tried to pull free, horribly aware of the hissing creeper that was steadfastly approaching, but cold, almost completely bone fingers tore at his right bicep, pulling him off balance and nearly sending him to the ground. He yelped, the sudden movement jarring his injuries and making them flare with pain.

Desperation filled his chest, and he realized he only had one, awful option. One awful option that he dreaded, one awful option that might just save his life. He didn’t want his help, though, not at all. He didn’t want to call for him.

…He had to. It was…it was that, or die, and he wasn’t ready for that. He wasn’t ready to face the void, wasn’t ready to do that to his friends. He wanted to live, even if it meant calling for his worst nightmare. Would it be better than dying to mobs? He didn’t know. He didn’t have time to debate what might happen next, not while he was seconds away from his gruesome end. Sucking in a breath, George did the only thing he could. He called for Dream.

“Dream!” He screamed, viciously fighting and shoving away the decayed fingers that were chasing after his arms and throat. “Dream, please, I need help!” He felt ridiculous, screaming for someone who probably wouldn't even hear him, for someone who might not even care about him, truly care. George didn’t know if Dream was capable of such a thing. How could he? He wasn’t mortal. He was a God. What God would truly, truly care for something so…so insignificant, when compared to what the heavens had to offer?

George tried to push those thoughts away and attempted to focus on breathing past his burgeoning panic. Dream wouldn’t…wouldn’t do that to him, right? Wouldn’t he…?

Suddenly, there was a crack of booming light, and then a dry, staticy wave of heat that had George and his assailants tumbling backwards. He hit the ground with a choked wheeze, skidding several feet over the mossy, leaf-coated ground. Dizziness swirled through his head, and his elbow and ribs and shoulder screamed in agony. Despite the pain, George propped himself up on his side, panting heavily as he tried to process.

The quick, whistling sound of an iron blade dancing through the air reached his ears, and he managed to glance up to see a blur of yellow plowing through the converging mobs. Not even a minute later, the entire group of monsters was disintegrating in the slight breeze that had kicked up, and the golden blur had solidified into a broad, tall shape that was approaching him.

"What are you doing out here? Alone! At night!?" Large hands closed around his bruised biceps, pulling him to his feet, and George suddenly found himself face-to-face with a gleaming white smiley mask. "You know the mobs are more dangerous in the dark! Prime knows how many times I've warned you!"

He had never been more aware of how tall Dream was until this exact moment, when the man–god–was standing a full head-and-a-half over his own skull, towering over him. The grip on his arms was gentle, but firm, and half of George’s focus was on how strong the hands were, on how fast they might turn to bruising and restraining.

He saw the flash of Dream's teeth as the ma–god–spoke but he didn’t hear the words. All he could think of was what might have happened if the gaping black maw he'd been tossed into had had those sharp incisors. An image of his and Sapnap's mangled, crushed bodies, guts and bones and gore spilling from their split skin flashed through his mind, and his breath hitched.

For a moment, George swore he could feel the thick, oily texture of saliva coating his skin.

George shoved out of Dream’s grip, hands burning where they pressed against the blond's chest, and stumbled backwards, nearly falling as his heel caught on a mossy ridge on the ground. His back hit the trunk of a tree, hard, and he found his fingers digging into the ridged bark to ground himself, both against the waves of pain that jarred his body from the impact, and from the realization that Dream was here, physically present, right in front of him.

"Don't–don't touch me," he managed to gasp out, eyes watering as his breath hitched faster and faster. George tore his hands away from the tree bark, clutching at the collar of his shirt and scratching at his throat as he panted. He couldn’t–wasn’t—he couldn’t breathe!

His knees failed him, and he slid down to the ground, rough bark scraping through his shirt and shredding his skin, but he didn’t notice, couldn’t notice, not when his throat felt like it was closing up, not when it looked like the night sky was bleeding down to rip away his vision.

He was aware that Dream was still in front of him, still looming above his head, but the fact was a distant, dull idea that he couldn’t quite grasp, not when it felt like teeth were closing down around his chest, not when he couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe—

George could swear he heard Sapnap screaming below him.

“I wouldn’t—I would never hurt you, George. I won't. Ever.” The form in front of him shifted, and then all he could see through the fuzzing cloud of darkness was a wash of bright, nearly fluorescent amber blocking the night air.

Two hands, larger than George's own, reached forward and, so incredibly gently, grasped his trembling fingers between wide palms and pulled them away from his raw, seemingly swollen throat.

“George, hey, hey, can you breathe with me? I think you’re having an attack, c’mon, try to breathe–” The voice was muffled, and George barely noticed it. All he could focus on was the warm, nearly hot hold that entrapped both of his hands. His fingers twitched as the buzzing in his ears increased, burying nearly every other sound present. George couldn’t even hear his own heartbeat. Why couldn't he hear his heartbeat?!

“Hhnnnnnn–” George wheezed, desperately trying to jerk his hands free from the impossibly firm grip. The long fingers curled more securely around the backs of his hands, around his wrists, and two thumbs moved to press against George’s palms.

More words were being said, but he couldn't hear them. It felt like his entire head had been forced down underneath the waters of a violent river, and he couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't breathe—no matter how hard George struggled, he just could not shake off the invisible hands forcing his head under the rapids.

His hands were suddenly pressed against something soft, something warm, rising up and down in a gentle swell, and he could feel a steady bup-bump, bup-bump, bup-bump pounding beneath his palms. He latched onto the constant pulse, breath hitching up again in concordance with the sudden, unwavering rhythm.

His fingers curled against the warm fabric, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to focus on the phantom touch of muscles crushing around his body. He forced himself to breathe, shuddery as it was, in tandem with the beat of the heart against his palms.

Bup-bump. Bup-bump. Bup-bump. His chest stuttered, but he pushed on. Four, five, six, seven. Breathe out. He wasn’t in a prison of fleshy death. There was bark pressing into his spine, digging stinging pin-pricks into his skin, leaves and grass crinkling under his legs as they quivered. Two, three, four. Breathe in, ignore the hitched sniffle, and breathe out. There were sounds all around him, the noises of the night crickets and the frogs, the hollow, lonely hoot of an owl, the hushed, hesitant murmur of reassurances and instructions from the presence in front of him, of the body his hands were resting against.

George breathed, and slowly, oh so slowly, gained back control of himself. He kept his eyes closed, unready to face the source of his panic.

He’d had episodes like this, many, many times after the incident. Sapnap had them as well, but not nearly as often, nor as intensely as the brunette did. Bad had coached them both through ways to cope, of ways to bring themselves back to reality after their minds plunged them down into the horrible depths of wet–dark–NO—

It was so, so difficult to do on his own, especially when the cause of his spiral was right in front of him, but he had to get himself under control. He forced his head above the violent waves despite the sheer, paralyzing dread, despite the disquiet that filled him down to his very bones, and gasped for air.

He had to face his problem, had to overcome it, Bad had said. If George let it fester in his mind, it would cripple him, it would eventually kill him, the demon had warned. He’d given George a lot of advice. It was probably time George started taking it. He didn’t want to be like this anymore. He just wanted everything to go back to normal.

He pried open his raw, puffy eyes, cheeks glistening with the wet of his own tears, and grasped at his blurry vision, forcing his gaze to focus. His fingers tightened, then relaxed, then clenched again as he worked up the will to look. He inhaled, too fast, and coughed, throat sore and body shaking. It’s like ripping off a plaster. He had to do it quick, or else he’d never manage such a daunting feat.

George breathed, and forced his eyes to actually see.

The offensively bright yellow of Dream’s cropped hoodie crossed into focus, blocking most of George’s view, his own trembling hands clutched against the center of the deity’s chest. Large hands clasped his, the thumb of each running soothing circles into the backs of his hands. The god had sunk down to the ground along with George, knees pressed into the mulchy floor of the forest, grass and twigs squashed up against the dark fabric of his trousers.

George risked a glance up at Dream’s face, terrified of what he would see. Would it be the face of his long-time best friend, or…or would it be the face of the deity who had eaten him?

He was afraid, but he forced himself to look anyway. He had to.

The god’s mask was pushed aside, and Dream’s wide, sparkling hazel eyes sought his own. George flinched, immediately avoiding his gaze and instead focusing on the mossy grass crawling along the roots around his knees.

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do it. All he could see was the face of the creature that had nearly not-killed him.

A hand detached itself from the cradle around his own and appeared just under George's chin, one long finger resting under his mandible and tilting his head up. “Hey,” Dream breathed, voice soft, gentle, even. “It’s alright, George. You’re okay. I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise.”

George’s back stiffened when his gaze was pulled upwards, and his breath hitched when he finally met Dream’s eyes.

Warm hazel shone, a faint, glittering blue light swirling from behind the amber-tinted irises. They seemed to draw George in, and unconsciously, the tense line along his back released, and his shoulders slumped.

His body felt oddly numb, like he had dosed himself with an intense painkiller. He couldn’t really feel the pain that should have been there from his previously accrued wounds, and a distant, vague part of him was…shrieking in alarm. Why did he feel so calm all of the sudden? He recoiled suddenly, yanking his chin out of Dream’s grasp and tearing his eyes away from the god with a gasp. What the hell was that?

“George, are you…okay?” Dream sounded so concerned. George’s gut clenched, mind reeling, and he chewed at the inside of his lip. No. No, he was not, but the crux of his issues was the god sitting right in front of him. George wasn’t about to tell Dream that he was the reason he was freaking out so badly. What if he got mad? What if he decided to actually…

George cut himself off and decided to ask a question of his own in lieu of answering. He…he was not ready to deal with that particular issue. Whatever spark of courage to confront his problems that had struck him earlier had withered and died, leaving him feeling exposed and vulnerable. So, he deflected.

"Why'd you come?" He croaked, words catching in his raw-feeling throat. He coughed, trying to clear the roughness of his voice. “Why…why are you here, Dr-Dream?”

The god paused at his question, thumb faltering in its rotation on the back of George’s hand as the rest of his fingers tightened slightly in their grip. "You…you called for me? You needed help, George. You were gonna…the mobs would have killed you!”

George’s chest stuttered at the reminder, and he flinched when he bit down too hard on the inside of his cheek. The taste of coppery blood flooded his mouth, and he had to swallow it down with a disgusted grimace so that he could speak.

"I didn't think you'd actually…I didn't think you’d actually come, Dream. Why? Why? I’m just…I’m just. Me.” He swallowed again, sucking in a deep breath of the cool night air through his nose. “And you. You’re a. A God. What—why the hell would you come for me? Why do you care?”

He was crying again, hot rivulets of saltine tears streaming down his face to drip down his jawline. His lips twisted into a wobbly frown, and he wiped a damp cheek off on his shoulder. Dream still had a hold on both of his hands. He didn’t know if he wanted the deity to let go.

Dream’s mouth opened, but no words came out. His face morphed into one of sad surprise, and his shoulders slumped. His fingers jittered across the backs of George’s hands as he worked his jaw, brow furrowed and eyes perturbed. Finally, words escaped his throat, a tone George couldn’t quite identify coloring them.

“I…I'll always, always come when you call, George.” The blond breathed, reaching towards George again with his free hand. He paused and drew his hand back when George flinched, but his fingers still twitched as if they wanted to grasp onto something. “I couldn't live in a world without you." He confessed, voice low and just slightly wavery.

A quiet, muddled “Oh,” was all George could muster in response. He felt…it was like a yawning hole had opened up beneath him, and he didn’t know what to do. What did he say to that? That Dream would always want to be there for him, he could…attempt to understand, but. How did he explain to Dream that the m—god’s mere presence nearly shut down George’s ability to function?

He blinked heavily, trying to clear the misted haze that seemed to settle behind his eyes. He was so tired…

Dream’s face softened, and he slowly reached up to brush a thumb over George's cheekbone, right underneath one of the deep, dark bruises hanging below the brunette's eyes. "When was the last time you slept?"

“I…four…four days ago…” George trailed off, his throat closing up as the most recent nightmare leeched back up. He’d been endlessly falling, dropped by the hands of huge, indecipherable shadows. He hadn’t been able to see, and the only thing he could hear had been the laughter. He’d woken up after his body had smashed and split open onto a giant, gold gilt dinner plate.

He jerked his head sharply, breaking away from both the memory and from the gentle brush of touch on his face. He didn’t want to think about it, he didn’t want to remember any of it, but it kept coming back. He just wanted everything to be normal again. Was that too much for him to ask?

He finally turned to meet Dream’s gaze, staring the god in the face unflinchingly for the first time since he appeared. His eyes seemed a touch blue-er than they were since George last looked, but that may have been an effect of the sleep deprivation George was suffering from.

The blonde looked worried, and something about his expression pulled oddly at something inside of George’s brain.

What’s wrong, it seemed to say, prodding gently at the back of his mind. Tell me what’s bothering you, and then I can help. It was a vague murmur, a dizzying buzz that clouded his thoughts, and he found himself answering without a single opposing thought.

The words poured out of his mouth, a terrible confession that seemed to rise from his lungs. "I keep reliving—but it's worse, so much worse, because you–you don’t—you—” crush us, you chew us, you kill us–, “and I can't—" It was all too much. He couldn’t—He couldn’t—

George threw himself forward, shoving his forehead against Dream's chest and tangling his fingers deeper into the fabric of the god's hoodie. A long, keening whimper escaped his lips, and a hot stinging intensified behind his eyes.

He didn’t know what was wrong with him. He’d never had these thoughts about the Dream before. He’d have trusted him implicitly, but now…every time he thought about him, mind-numbing terror would rocket through his bones, and he'd want to vomit. Or cry, and cry, and cry until he felt nothing at all.

Dream's hands met his shoulders, a heavy, warm presence running down along his back, then up again. George couldn’t help the shiver of fear that thrilled through his gut at the contact. If Dream decided that he didn’t want to let go…

“Oh, oh, George,” arms encircled his shoulders, and fingers ran through his hair as George’s breathing stuttered again, warm tears trickling down to soak into the god's hoodie. His hands would be trembling if they weren’t so tightly clenched.

Dream shifted, slow and easy, as he moved to lean his back against the tree trunk George had been pressed against. His arms stayed around the brunette as he adjusted his position, pulling George against his side, instead of sprawled halfway over his chest. George flinched, then forced himself to relax, attempting to loosen the grip he had on Dream’s hoodie. He wasn’t very…successful.

“I’m so sorry, George. I…I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I just…I wanted to keep you safe.” Dream confessed, posture slumping against the rough bark of the tree. He sighed, pulling one hand from George’s back to rub at his temples. His face twisted into a grimace, and he glanced up at the night sky through the leaves and branches above them.

"There’s not…I can’t undo what happened. I can’t even stop you from being afraid of me. You…You’re completely justified in that, and I don’t blame you.” Dream’s jaw tensed, the only part of the god’s face that George could see. He tried not to imagine the expression that was decorating the blonde’s face.

Dream continued, seemingly oblivious to George’s strange internal conflicts. “What I can do, though, is help you sleep, if you'll let me."

George startled, at that, and a part of him almost tried to beg at the offer. He wanted nothing more than to sleep, to rest, but he couldn’t. Not when his dreams were so horribly inundated with night terrors and flashbacks.

"You're not going to–to eat me again, are you…?" His voice was hesitant, and it nearly hurt to get the words out. He had to know, though. If that was Dream’s way to help him sleep, then George would bolt, injuries and exhaustion be damned.

The god looked back at him abruptly, eyes wide and brow furrowed, and shook his head viciously. “No, never again, George. I’m not gonna—I won’t do that to you again.” He breathed out a slow huff of air and gently moved a hand over the brunette’s shoulders.

“O–okay, then. Fine.” George mumbled, dropping his gaze from Dream’s. He caught the bright edge of the god’s pleased expression in his peripherals, and tried not to think too hard about what that meant.

"Just lay down, alright? I'll help you sleep. I’ll keep all of the nightmares away."

Dream guided George's head down to rest against his legs, disentangling the brunette’s fingers from his sweater and helping him sprawl on his back over the mossy grass. George had a perfect view of the god's face, framed by the shadowed silhouettes of the leaves above, and, sprinkling through the gaps, the glittering stars of the night sky.

The distant shriek of a phantom sounded high above them, far beyond the trees, and George shrank back against the ground, alarm buzzing through his veins. He pulled his hands up to his chest, fingers tangling together as his nerves jarred though his system. "What…what about the mobs?"

"They won't bother us. I'll keep them away." One of Dream's hands reached down to rest over George's fidgeting digits, while the other rose up to brush the hair away from his eyes.

"Just sleep, George. I'll keep you safe, alright?” The god’s voice washed over him, drawing him deeper into the darkness of the night, and he couldn’t help the overwhelming wave of drowsiness that poured through his body. George’s eyes slipped closed, the afterimage of Dream’s luminescent blue irises fading behind his own eyelids.

His muscles untensed, and he felt…calm. His jittering, pounding heart eased to a slightly-rapid stutter, and the anxious, gut twisting rush that had plagued him for the last several hours drained away. A warmth spread over his entire body, and he couldn’t feel the pain of his wounds anymore.

It didn't feel…natural, but George was too far gone to really care. He was so tired…

So, so tired.

Taglist!!

@brick-a-doodle-do @i-am-beckyu @da3dm @kayla-crazy-stuffs @local-squishmallow @skullsnbruises @munchkin1156 @gt-daboss

#mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #d'yall mind if i tag this as that?#cause i meant technically ots part of it #if not just lemme know and ill take the tags off #writing #seriously how the heck fo i tag notmal stuff?#mcyt vore #referenced vore #giant!dream #tiny!george #referenced #hmmm #tags suck this time #and yes #dream did use magic to try and calm george down : D #bat's writing #deity

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moondust-on-the-hijabi · 3 months

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well that was embarrassing

#no father i will not show you my writing bc the last time I asked smth about it in front of you #you proceeded to give me a panic attack for 2 hours.#and they're telling me to learn cooking after thursday #and that i have to start packing stuff for shifting #i hate this part of shifting #what's worse is we don't even know where we're shifting😭😭#it's either [redacted] or [redacted] one is allllll the way up and the other is so near the equator winter doesn't exist #i just want to read and watch my dramas #bleh if we move to place 1 I can finally be safe from boards and if we go down idt I can change courses :/ but I hate packing #i went ot #moonhalo talks —✧

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platonic-qpr-selfshipping · 5 months

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the first day of the year I wrote myself a little letter from one of my f/os, and then wondered if I could keep it up during the year. hmm. does this count as a new year's resolution or

#listen- XDDDDDDDD #im doing a f/o letter one day and a letter from me to f/o the next and repeat the pattern #hm #hMMM #it's only been three days but i think that if i dont mind doing short stuff in my worst days it could work #also i kind of intended for it to be more aligned with my s/i's lore but it's getting a bit personal already lmao #it's gonna turn into an interesting mix ot irl stuff and thoughts and situations my s/i would actually go through XDDD hm #hmmmm #all i write is about you #f/o community #self ship community #self shipping #self ship #safeship #safeshipping

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ghoulgeists · 2 years

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tychos mom divorced milf

#tiefling #dnd #dnd oc #dungeons and dragons #artists on tumblr #im finally writing backstory stuff for tycho and its all bad #i didnt plan on giving him any backstory at all he was just supposed ot be some guy #where did we go wrong #anyway she has more money than god and a strained relationship with her cringe fail son #my art #ghouldraws #tycho

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cuppatealove · 5 months

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I am GOING to finish this chapter of Anchor Point and then I am GOING to write another chapter of Operation Thanksgiving, it is going to happen, it is going to happen.

#guys I am like 2 chapters away from getting to the chapter of chapters the whole reason why I started writing ot #why do I keep getting sidetracked why #except that the same could be said of ap and I have some future stuff i REALLY want to get to #come on pull it together cuppa #2 more weeks of summer holidays and then I might be able to find some actual time #literally embarrassing that I would consider one (1) ot chapter this year to be a win #one of my problems is that the niece and nephew I was vaguely using as inspo for the kids are now like 4 years older lol #how do 7 and 10 year olds talk again???

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joyfuladorable · 1 year

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Masterpost of my TMNT content

Easier perusal for everyone (me included). Each list is ordered from newest to oldest. IMPORTANT NOTE: I'm brushing that 100 link limit, so post series will only have the first post linked here with the rest of the posts linked in order in said posts (I hope that makes sense, lol)

Fic:

Training + Art (Rise)

Scrambled (2k3)

Typical Night (Rise Capril)

Keep Your Eyes Open (2k3)

Ramifications (2k3)

Struck Match (Rise Capril)

I'll be Ok! (2k3)

A (Capril) Moment (Rise)

"That's my Mom!" (Rise)

Fic Fanart:

To Fit the Crime (2k3)

Being So Normal (Rise)

Weathered Strings, Tethered Wings (2k3)

Dragon of the Sun(2k3)

Sunshine in the Rain (Rise)

nice, nice (Rise)

Of Darkness and Light (2k3)

Pretend that I Never Left (2k3)

imperfect animals (Rise)

A delivery boy! Uh, or turtle. (2k3)

Multi/Others:

More Shredder’s Revenge redraws (03 & Rise with bonus capril)

Chaotic Besties (Rise Casey & 03 Mikey)

Sapphic stream doodles + Bonus sapphics

Mikey doodle requests (Part 2)

Mikey doodle requests (Part 1)

Twt doodle requests (2k3 & Rise)

Mikey snoozing on a plushie (90s Movie)

Sunset Duo Sillies (2k3 & Rise)

Mikey and Mikey and Mikey

IDW:

Character Portrait Sketchdump 2

Character Portrait Sketchdump 1

Mutant Mayhem/Tales:

More Casey Manifesting

Prom Night!

Manifesting Casey Jones

2003:

Turtle Titan JF Shift Day

SAINW Roadtrip AU

Mikey Arm Injuries + Don Trauma

Mikey Victory Jump

Turtle Tots Storytime

Renetello Doodle

Go For It, Miyamoto! (Leosagi)

Turtle Titan in Terrible Trouble

Don, Mikey, & Klunk doodles

Badass Mikey Sketch

Trenchcoat Mikey

Angel Redesign

2k3 Things that Make Me Laugh (Part 1)

Boyband Album Cover

Where the Wild Thing Are

Rise:

Growing up Casey

Capril and Murder

Casey in the 1990s pose

Capril Week 2024

Capril x5

Mama Casey carrying Junior

Casey in an attic (2012 Redraw)

Mini Capril Paintings

Capril Kiss + Explosion

Caprisun Collab

Kae’s Capril DTIYS

Touch-starved Hug (Casey & Raph)

Casey & Frida Post-training Art Trade

Princess Bride Capril

Western Capril Art Trade

Haircut Tax (Raph & Casey)

Casey comforts Frida (Big Mama's Assistant) Art Trade

Baja Blast Duo Art Trade

Lesbian Uppercut

Mama Casey protects her Baby

Midnight Nosebleed (Bad Future Casey with CJ)

Summer Dresses for Casey

Casey Akira Slides + Bonus Doodle & Capril Comic

Rise Girls Sketchdump 3

Casey protects April

Casey using Foot Clan Mystic Arts

Stargazing (caprisun)

Girl Help (caprisun)

Pinoy Jones Fam

Capril Kiss

Rise Girls Sketchdump 2

Rise Girls Sketchdump 1

Caprisun KH AU

Turtle Practice

Mikey and Cats

*NEW* Rise Capril Wedding Shenanigans (Oldest -> Newest)

Part 1: Proposal

Proposal Character Designs

Casey picking up April for a date

Videos:

TMNT 2003 Kahoot Vod

Rise S2 but it’s just Casey Yelling

Rise S1 but it's just Casey Yelling

I made a video compilation of every Casey (Sr) appearance in Rise! YT won't let me upload it, so send me an Ask for the link if you wanna see it!

2k3 Book Scan Snippets:

Balloons

Parallels

Besties

#tmnt #my art #my writing #my vid #like with my OT master post this’ll be updated whenever I make more art #my brain is a flurry of ideas that I can’t execute consistently cuz of physical limitations #I’ll write too eventually!!#tags also to be edited as I see fit #this is not a request post don’t ask me to make specific stuff #linking this to my pinned for folks to find

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mint-is-here · 1 month

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GUESS WHOS FIANLYY FNISHING SEASON FOUR

is season 5 almsot releasing? yes but that doenst matter MK LOOKS SO SMALLL

and just how his voice sounder ugh

sounded so much unlike him i love it

ive seen that scene like ten times already and its just so good

#stuff #i can write the thing i was talking aobut latet I AM GOING OT FINISH THIS TODAY NO MATTER WAHT

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tisajest · 1 year

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I am doing so good with my fic 🥰 *has 4 docs, 2 spreadsheets, 1 family tree, a couple rough drawings for physical appearances, and 0 sentences of the actual fic written*

#working on my togruta skywalkers au #which makes me develop a family tree that goes back a few generations and has extended family #and developing cultural traits for TSC and TSL (Tatooine Slave Culture and Language) which has overlaps with other slave cultures #and developing names and naming customs as well as a language #which has multiple dialects (which i won't get into much bc i haven't worked it out fully)#and a few diasporas as well #its fun but like...plot???? what is a plot???? what will the story ACTUALLY be about???? 🤷‍♀️#post rotj but like...i think i'll have oneshots as well for stuff that happened before the main story that are significant for the main fic #and im debating how vader felt about leia...a togruta girl who has familial coloring and markings who is the same age as his “neverborn” ki #lots to think about. bc while i don't want to change too much from canon (i want the story to take place in post canon ot)#i feel the need to change some stuff so it makes sense within a world where a togruta sith lord exists and so do 2 human/togruta hybrids #in very prominent and visible roles #so....yeah. lots to think about #anyway back to worldbuilding #star wars #fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #togruta skywalkers au #togruta anakin au #my fanfiction writing

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sakura-nyah · 1 year

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Hi Nyah! Hope ur doing well <3 Here's a request since I haven't asked in a while! Can you write HCs for Kaz reassuring his S/O who is afraid of him leaving/feels kinda unlovable? Sorry if it's angsty, my mental health has been iffy lately and I could use a bit of comfort, hehe..Hope you had a good trip btw! ^_^ -🌱

I don't mind the angst at all, 🌱Kaz Anon! I'm happy to write this for you! My mind was going crazy with things to think about during this!

Do take care of yourself tho, 🌱Kaz Anon if possible. I understand the feeling of mental health being iffy and what I do to fix it is mainly listen to music. Its my best way of helping me feel better with anything. Of course, don't listen to sad music if you're sad! That can be bad on yourself! But if needed, I'm here for you. You can message me any time! Yet if you're uncomfortable with that, you can send me Anon asks just venting about your problems. Of course, I would not post them. I'd delete the asks after reading them since its all personal things!

The Headcanons are under the Read More <3!! This got a tad bit long but hopefully they're to your liking! If not, just tell me and I'll redo the Headcanons! I don't mind at all!

Kazuichi Soda reassuring his S/O who is afraid of him leaving and feels is unlovable.

✿ When your feelings appeared to you about your fear, it didn't take Kazuichi long at all to notice something was troubling you. Even if you had your feelings hidden so well to the point even you eventually forgot about them, Kazuichi would still have sensed something because he's so in tune with everything about you.

✿ He'll talk to you right away. He's worried about what is wrong and what is causing it. He wants you feeling your best and this boy will do anything in his power to make you feel your best.

✿ Now, even though he will talk to you right away, he'll actually lead a conversation into the direction of talking about what's troubling you. Instantly talking to you about your troubles could catch you off guard and make you panic. He doesn't want that at all.

✿ Kazuichi will sit down with you, lay down with you, whatever you're most comfortable with, and stay silent for a few moments. He's making sure you're comfortable before he begins the conversation. His voice is so gentle as he speaks.

✿ "I wanted to ask, how have you been feeling?"

✿ I said he was in tune with everything about you but at this moment, somehow his senses have never been so alert. He's worried about triggering you.

✿ He'll wait for your response. Nothing in the world matters right now except for you. However long you take, he'll wait. He will, however, throw in some more words as a hopeful comfort while he waits for your response.

✿ "If you ever felt sad or anything, you could tell me, ya know? I care about you and knowing there's a chance you're hurting, it makes me feel bad. I want to help. When we fell in love, I promised myself to always help you. That includes everything.. Why?"

✿ He originally was waiting for you to answer but hes on a roll now that he wants to finish. Something in him knew this is what you needed to hear.

✿ He hopes his voice carries the passion he has for you.

✿ "Because I love you."

✿ Kazuichi never sounded so serious about any statement he has ever made to you or to anyone. He looked at you. If you looked back and into his eyes, you could see the love in them.

✿ "A couple is called a couple because it means two, right? We're a couple. You can't have one without the other. We're in this together."

✿ He's holding your hand now. His grasp is gentle but strong. If you don't like to be touched, this one time he will step over that boundary. Not because he is trying to make you uncomfortable or hurt you, but because his touch will hopefully show his love to you.

✿ "I'm with you with any pain you could have. Happy pain, sad pain, angry pain. I'm with you because I love you. Like what people say! I love you to the moon and back!"

✿ He's smiling now, trying to hold back a laugh.

✿ "But my moon is so far away that you can't even see it!"

✿ His face softens and his voice becomes a whisper, only for you to hear. Theres no one else around at this moment but still, his words right now are for you only.

✿ "I love you, Y/N."

✿ He didn't know how you felt, yet he still said these words. He said them because he knew being as truthful as possible (even tho he wouldn't lie to you, unless he was doing something such as holding a surprise birthday party for you) is what is best. You're not in the best of states and so he's giving you his rawest emotions and words.

✿ If you end up shaking, crying, doing both, or something else because your emotions are coming forward, if you let him, his arms are around you in an instant. His hold will be strong but not hurtful. He will be your wall. Right now, nothing will get to you as you're in his arms. Nothing can overpower Kazuichi when he's holding you. This time, if you prefer to not be touched he'll let your hand go and speak instead, saying small words such as "You're alright. You're alright. I'm not leaving. Let it out."

✿ Hopefully you'll talk to him about how you were feeling and what was troubling you. He's happy that you're opening up to him. He's proud of you. So proud. He'll actually remind you randomly how proud he is for you opening up to him. He'll also remind you how much he loves you. He'll do this for days and days and days.

✿ What he said were words of true love and emotion. You didn't even have to say anything and his first thoughts were to remind you how loved you were. He can't leave you. You're the other 1 to his 1+1 =2. You're the other half to his couple. You put color and light into his life. You put an emotion in him that's stronger than happiness. Nothing can ever top it. Nothing will ever be better. Nothing will ever change his love for you. Nothing.

✿ Because of the feelings you had, Kazuichi has decided with himself to have a daily and nightly check up with you and how you're feeling, physically and emotionally (He once said "That's rad!" when you told him you were feeling good and now it stuck. He's saying rad at everything.). He'll be there for you for however long as you need, whenever you need, about whatever is troubling you. The love he has for you is just...its incredible. Its so beautiful. People say perfect doesn't exist but try telling him that and he will argue forever on why that's false and that there's someone in his life to prove that perfect does exist.

#🌱Kaz Anon!!#Nyah Answers #Im here if you ever need anything #Please dont be afraid to reach out and talk more about any issues you may have!#I LOVED WRITING THIS BY THE WAY CAN YOU TELL????#I'm also terrified I typoed his name even tho I reread this 100 times #Like I'm afraid somewhere autocorrect kicked in and made Kazuichi be Lazy I hi since it wants to do that #I'm always afraid of typos help #Kazuichi x Reader #Kazuichi Soda x Reader #Okay I'm also afraid my post broke since when I was fixing stuff #I deleted a small part and had to rewrite ot #tYPO #And I'm afraid its broken somewhere else fhdosjebf #Nyah scared #Danganronpa x Reader #My tags are all over the place

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vulpixelates · 2 months

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obsidian added a way to add tables to notes without needing to use markdown YEEESSSSSSSSSSSSS

#i found this out as i was beginning to make a bunch of tables to roll randomized stuff for a writing project which is. excellent timing lmao #i am going to roll an assortment of random characters and put them in situations and roll as i go to influence where the plot goes #i'm so unconfident when it comes to plot but if it's random + inspired by tables it gives me a way to practice without doubting myself #well. without doubting myself TOO much aeofijaoewifja i am already doubting myself and i haven't even started lmao #oh well!!!!#i am using tables i made once for when i was DMing and needed to roll quick NPCs but editing them a bit ot fit into the world i've been +#+ slowly putting together for the IF project i was working on #idk if anything will ever come of that but whatever!!! it doesn't matter!!!!!! NOTHING MATTERS #*dykeposting

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wheeboo · 2 months

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my brain rlly has to stop considering writing anything under 1k words as unsatisfactory lmao

#tHIS is mainly targeted towards myself #even b4 writing on here i used to write on wattpad n shit #and normally all my stuff tends to be long-ish (1k words or more) no matter how miniscule the plot is #which is hwy i sometimes tend ot be annoyingly descriptive sometimes #idk its just my brain . i just like it when my fics are 1k words or more it makes me feel better lol #not that writing anything less is bad at all #it jst makes me feel like i havent done enough 🙃#rania rambles

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sketchtxt · 5 months

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mannnn....... I need to learn How To Au™

I have ideas. but also what am I doing

#🪶 book & quill #i also am very quickly realizing why you shildnt make an ask blog impulsively while sleep deprived #not anybody's fault of course. im just like. i HAD plans but i hate what i had goin for the au.#and then i was like “well maaaybe ill get inspiration as i answer asks” and im n ot #it is VERY fun to draw answers to asks and get asks and answer in-character but #i dont think ethan was the way to go for it yk #i dunno what ill do with the blog. maybe it'll lose attention and i can just abandon it LMFAO 😭#but yeah. no clue about the blog. im winging ot #tjis post was mainly about my three sams aus and my dca au.#cause like. they actually have a plot n stuff #but i can never bring myself to set a fixed ending n stuff for aus #eclipse in one of my tsams aus (not trying to be vague i just dont have names for them) canonically dies and thats how it ends but.#im just not satisfied #and i know for aus i could always make sequels i suppose if i like. write them or something and find i miss them #but i dunno

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that-gay-jedi · 2 years

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Tagged by @purrvaire

Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have wips. (You can make your own post or reblog this one!) I have deemed that this isn’t just for writing either. Sketch titles? Comics? Dnd campaigns? If you have an unfinished project, it counts!!

Oh hell I have too many WIPs but here we go:

Battlefield dr4

More devils 10 11 + dreams

Sun and storm 1

Where the light lingers longest

Seeing stars v2

the end of the age of heroes

Silver linings, gilded tongues

Jedi seance v1

nobler to break than to bend

Redshift

twin dragons

shitty climate - crechemaster

Moonless Night

Triple threat

Occam's razor confiscated

Disaster daughters AU

oops I think sith happened

softer than flesh, stronger than bone

anakin meets shmi

Worst padawans AU

In absentia scarlet thread

Scorched earth

No pressure pals! And feel free to do it if you want to and aren't tagged! Life is short and rules are made to be broken.

@becauseallhellseeisme @r-osehips @notdarthmaul @brightestorangedawn @flashbulb-memory @binaryeclipse @brightmouth @aries-anakin @imaginativefanatic @wherethefunbegins @kittimau @dominiumlunae @vilify @iscariot-rising @mercurialmanic @akilover @slowburning @tessiete @goldenyearofgrief @yourrescuemission @espressonerd @obikitten

#ask games #tag games #you don't have to be mutual ot even my follower to ask me stuff!#sw fanfic #writing #dew it #wip ask game

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plush-rabbit · 2 years

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Coming Out as Aro

Request: hi, hope you're doing well today! i saw your fic of asmo and mammon's reactions to reader coming out as ace, and was wondering if you could do coming out as aro for mammon, asmodeus, leviathan and solomon?

A/N: I did a bit of research on this so like let me know if it needs any changing or something!! Like the ace post, i did my research based on different experiences so let me know if it’s any good or not! Happy pride!!

Mammon:

People often forget that Mammon is very emotionally aware of others. Of course, he could tell that there was something on your mind- that you’ve been acting a bit differently than you have before. Usually, he isn’t one to pester you when you look so serious, but he has to know, and he asks and lays his head on your lap, trying to get your attention. You can talk to him about anything- he promises to understand. He’s a demon- even if you’ve done something bad, he wouldn’t blame you, and would probably take the fall for it if it meant you’d relax for a minute.

Coming out to him is easy- sort of. The words come out in a rush and without even thinking, words exclaimed loudly that has him just nodding. Okay- you’re aromantic. It’s a big deal, but it isn't. He knows how important it is when people come out to others- he is very versed on human interactions and even so, sexuality isn’t confined to just the Human Realm- he’s met his fair share of demons and angels who share your sexuality. He knows what being aromantic is- and of course, he accepts you.

You may have a new label to you, but you are still you. He likes to be around you. And now without the risk of romance in the air, he’s much more relaxed. He doesn’t stutter over his words- at least not as often as he did before. Words of care and praise are still difficult for him to share, but it isn’t like before.

With words being difficult for the second-born, he expresses himself through touch, but only if you're comfortable with it. He likes to rest his head on your shoulder or sit by your side, a pen in his hand as he scribbles over your knuckles. You’re still a close friend and you coming out has changed nothing about it.

In good nature, he is overeager about giving you things that represent your identity. He’ll buy you items in green, and buy small flags in forms of stickers or pins or anything, for you. Mammon cares deeply for you and if you did show hesitation in your coming out to him, he will go overboard in trying to make up for the fact that you thought he was going to react in anything less than positive. Whatever it is that you want- he’ll get it for you. Whether through spending his money or not, is an entirely different story, but he wants you to know that he cares for you.

Leviathan:

Leviathan’s sin gets to him the most when he notices that you want to tell him something but never do. He thinks to himself that he must have upset you in some type of way, or done something to make you not want to spend time with him. He avoids eye contact with you when he asks if something is up- choosing to focus on a game he’s completed long ago. Of course, there’s a reason that you’re acting like this. He’s already degrading himself in his mind; biting his inner cheek in order to avoid having the words spill out and taint whatever relationship you both have at the moment.

When you come out to him, he’s silent for a moment before nodding. It had nothing to do with him- he can finally breathe. He knows what aromanticism is. He’s consumed enough media and been on enough forums and blogs to know about all types of identities and sexualities. It isn't surprising that he would know what that is. He’s been around and while he may not be socially active, he does still talk to people from the human and demon realm, and knows the varying sexualities.

You coming out to him is a breath of fresh air. He doesn’t have to think about being romantic with you, nor does he have to worry that anything more would happen. You wanting to be friends with him is already a major win for him. He can just be with you and nothing has to change. You two are still friends. Nothing has to change that- and it won’t with your recent coming out, if anything, it only cements things further which the Avatar of Envy is proud of.

No matter what, you're still his Henry. The pack that you share with him bonds the two of you, and he’s glad that your friendship will always be set, that nothing really has to change between the two of you. He still brings you to his room to read manga and play videogames. Your friendship hasn’t changed with him, other than him being much more relaxed around you.

Knowing how important representation is, he will often call out canon aromantic characters to you. Leviathan wants to share his own hobbies with you in some type of way, and by expressing characters that can be like you, is something that he sees can bring the both of you closer. He’s excited for you, wanting to show you that you are being represented.

Asmodeus:

There’s something that you’ve been meaning to tell him and Asmodeus isn’t sure what it is, but he knows that it must be important enough to cause you to be much more reserved around him. He’s sure that he’s made himself to be someone that you can come to when you have any type of issues. You must know that he’s been around for a very long time, enough to know that whatever it is that you’re facing, it’s something that will be no match for him. He can handle whatever it is that you want to throw his way. He holds your hand, and you come out to him with a nervous smile and he takes it well.

He knows what aromanticism is- understands that there are varying levels to it much like other sexualities and genders. You’re beside him, fiddling with your hands, twisting your fingers into one another, as you explain where you fall onto the spectrum. He listens and nods at all the right times. He wants to know where you lie- what your definition of your sexuality is.

He’s romantic by nature, and he never wants to make you uncomfortable- to push you to feel something that you shouldn’t. Of course, he can’t sully change himself due to his own sin, but any advances that are made towards you are empty, there’s no real flirtatious vibe that they once held, just something that’s rather sickly sweet that has you rolling your eyes and scoffing at his mannerisms. If you were to set any boundaries with him, he’d be entirely respectful. There may be moments where he’d cross that line, but he apologizes immediately, wanting to avoid making you uncomfortable.

You don’t have to be romantic with him, and he knows you don’t feel much towards romantic advances and it takes a bit for him to get used to, like how hand holding isn’t much for you but it means a lot to him in a sense where he can still be close to you.

Whatever you choose to be with him, he’s happy with it. You’re happy with yourself, and he isn’t going to be one to push you. He understands what his sin is, but even so, he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Asmodeus has people and demons throw themselves at him, even as an angel, he was ethereal. And perhaps that has placed his ego on a pedestal, and to have you not attracted to him in any manner, makes him feel loved in a different type of way. He cares greatly for you, and he is always going to be your close friend.

Solomon:

Solomon can tell that there is something that you want to talk about with him, but he isn’t quite sure what it is that you want to talk about. Or if there even is something that you want to talk about- you could possibly just be anxious about something all together. He lets you know that he is there for anything that you want to talk about- whether it be for something miniscule as messing up a potion or something as grand as dealing with mental issues. You coming out to him- if that’s something that you want to call it or not- is not what he had expected that you wanted to talk about.

It came to a surprise to you a long time ago that he had been around for a very long time, so aromanticism is something that he knows about. But, while he may know about it, it isn’t something that he wants to take from you. He tells you that there’s nothing to worry about- if you had any worries about your relationship with him- and wants to know more. You explain to him what aromanticism is to you- how you seem to define it.

There’s a stop in your words, and even some repeat. You’re stuttering and twisting the fabric of your shirt, and even though he's accepting and validating your identity, there's still a part of you that is anxious to talk about it so openly with him after spending so much time contemplating. You know him- he’s a good friend, and you know that he’s been around for a long time, longer than you’d ever be able to comprehend. But it still doesn’t stop the anxiety that bubbles in you.

Of course, he’s happy that you told him. You have no reason to feel anxious, but he isn’t one to tell you how to feel- especially when it’s something that deals with this. He doesn’t want you to feel weird around him, so he asks what your boundaries are, because your feelings come first.

If there was a shift in the relationship, it isn’t noticeable. Solomon likes to spend time with you and that won’t change. You both still hang out, and he still teaches you bits of magic that you aren’t familiar with. There’s a certain playfulness that has come from you coming out to him. At the end of the day, you mean a lot to the sorcerer and he is going to treasure the type of friendship that you have given to him.

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