#(i asked friends if it made sense and most of them didnt like it BUT THEY WERENT WRITERS SO????)

[missingininaction]

alright, friends, i might say something you don't like but i think it's important. not just to defend a character, but because i think this is literally making people's experience and relationship with this game worse.

give jimmy like two seconds to exist.

by hating jimmy so much you refuse to even say his name, and judge real, living people for liking him, you are cheapening your experience by boiling down the main character to the most ~yuckiest~ moments. and, by not making a seperate space for hating on him, you are drowning out the voices of people who actually have nuanced things to say about his character. you know, the skilled writers and artists that feed the fandom? limitation is what kills fandoms, you have to know that.

is jimmy a good person? no. is he a good captain/companion/worker? Absolutely Not! he crumbles like dust under any pressure and he immediately shifts blame off of himself, he is an actively harmful individual and it's right to be upset by his actions. i literally had to stop myself from saying "man FUCK jimmy." multiple times because i didn't want to spoil how terrible he got to my friends when i showed the game to them.

but you have to understand; people are more than their actions. thats part of the entire point of the game. thats why its so abstract. you are meant to think about the nuances of their situation.

we can agree that anya was way more as a woman than what happened to her and what she did as a result of it, right? that despite her best efforts, she was a victim of circumstance, and she deserves to be understood and analyzed fully?

then why, seeing a fictional man who has done immoral things, are you so disgusted you won't even draw, write or discuss him outside of hate? what is that doing for you, to ignore literally the main character of the game because of his actions?

now, this is not to say people can't hate jimmy. i understand it! as someone who has been a victim of s/a and abuse, i understand if you hate him and are even triggered by him to the point of avoiding mention of him. (but...why are you in this fandom? ((not aggressive im genuinely asking)))

you can feel however you want about any character, my goal is not to control people. but i thought it was common knowledge to not hatepost about someone in their tag? over actual insight into his character and, you know, the main themes of the game?

jimmy is a man who has struggled his whole life. both him and curly confirm that in the game. he's unable to control his emotional outbursts, and he likely had no idea what to expect from being in fucking SPACE for over a year with people he probably didn't even know before that trip. and pony express and their corporate safety corner cutting certainly didnt help, did it?

for one reason or another, he most likely was never actually taught how to manage his emotions. that's just how it is sometimes, growing up as a man. and it would make sense if he was forced to deal with everything himself, no? he always complains, but he still says he'll handle it. because that's what he's always had to do. and this is just the start of what i could say about what made him the way that he is.

he's a victim too, not only of his own actions.

surprise surprise, people who do awful things can also be victims.

honestly, this entire situation baffles me. how are you going to avoid one of the main characters of the game, let alone the one you play as ninety percent of the time? mind you, curly is also guilty, and i am happy to see at least some people giving him space for nuance. because he is also a victim!!! why is it so impossible to see jimmy as nuanced, when literally every other character also has incredible depth to them??

you're tarnishing and spitting on the beautiful writing of this game just because one character is too icky for you to feel comfortable thinking about for too long. it's horror, you absolute morons. it's supposed to make you uncomfortable.

if you hate jimmy, i dont blame you. but please, please, make your own space for it. be kind to people who want to explore jimmy and the darker themes, and like him for what his character represents. this is a video game fandom, not a witch hunt. and please, learn some fandom etiquette while you're at it, okay? okay. thank you

also just say his name. its not a slur youre not gonna go to hell if you say jimmy. like this isn't as important but still it just feels like a microcosm of this whole thing.

[im-smart-i-swear]

Does Jiro has ghost like abilities (possession, ability to levitate things, etc etc) or does she just live in Shiro's head?

when i created this au, i thought the best option would be for her to be unable to interact with the physical world in any way(including possesion), beacuse i really wanted to lean into her isolation and how it affects her....... and while thats something i still want to emphasise here, lately ive been toying with the idea of jiro being able to impact the physical world somehow(though it still being fairly limited). i think letting her have some control could have a lot of potential! buuuut i also have no idea what abilities i want her to have lol

For now i think im not gonna give her any telekinetic abilities, bc i feel like it would be giving her too much power......... if she could throw shit, shed go APESHIT with it. it would made things too easy for her. i'm sorry babygirl but i'm NOT giving you the possibilty to throw knives and other sharp objects, i dont trust you to not kill someone:/

i really like the idea of her being able to temporarily posses her old body in certain circumstances tho- maybe when shiros uncouncious?? or like when hes is very tired or heavily injured she can kind of 'squeeze through' and take control back for a few minutes???? idk. i think this could be a very cool ability to give her- it cant be frequently used but can also be very helpful, and also theres so much potential for ✨shenanigans✨here>:) oh god i could put these fuckers in so many Situations with this..........

uhhh. so basically i think all of her influence on the physical world are through shiro. shes here bc of her connection to her old body, and thus its the only way for her to interact with anyone besides him- and shes NOT HAPPY about this(neither is shiro).

[foxmulderautism]

autistic boys when they realise the egg theyre eating feels like Egg

[cass1dyyy]

bad idea!

was such a bad idea, im totally fucked.

request by @lovetaylorrussellgrr

contains: fluff, angst a little bit

summary: when childhood bestfriend!mattheo wants to make his ex girlfriend jealous, and fake date you, you decide to go along with it. however, his ex might not be the only jealous one…

warnings: swearing (as usual), kissing, i dont think anything else??

“please?? can you just do this one favour for me? we’ve been friends for like, forever!!!” mattheo whined to you.

you were in the library, putting away some books you had used for your revision.

“no way! im not fake-dating you so you can date pansy again.” you say, finding the idea ridiculous.

“pleaseeee?” he suddenly grabbed your shoulders, shaking you roughly as he begged over and over again.

“oh my god, fine!” you say, as he lets go of you.

“you’re such a dick.” you put your final book away, walking out of the library, as he follows beside you.

“you know you love me.” he prods you, smirking smugly, as you roll your eyes.

“whatever. how are we gonna play this out? i mean, are we just going to make out infront of everyone or something?” you ask.

“okay, here’s the plan.”

you’re hanging out with enzo, draco, theodore, mattheo, and blaise in the courtyard, just before your first period. its not unusual to hang out with them, since you’ve known mattheo for such a long time, and theyre his best mates.

you fidget uncomfortably, listening to lorenzo’s new ludicrous story that happened to him one time, as thoughts race through your head.

how is mattheo so comfortable with this?

isnt it weird to him? i mean we’ve been bestfriends since our childhoods..

is he as nervous as me?

this seems like a bad idea..

you snap out of your daze, once you realise its time for class. you walk towards mattheo, your nerves fizzing and popping inside you like fireworks.

“hey, i’ll see you later okay? i gotta get to class.” you stick to the “script” as mattheo calls it, and lean in.

then, you two kiss. it starts off soft and slow, before he wraps his arms around you as it becomes more passionate. time seems to slow down as you become entranced in the embrace, before you come back to your senses and pull apart. that was definitely not part of the script..

“what the fuck?!” enzo shouts.

“jesus, you didnt have to eat her face off, she’s just going to class!” blaise exclaims.

“when did this even happen?” draco chimes in. the plan was working.

mattheo gives you a smile, with a glint of a smug look in his eyes as he nods his head to the side. you follow his gaze, and see pansy parkinson glaring at you both, as she stands with her new boyfriend. you feel glad that the plan is working, as you walk off towards your class.

it had been a month since you and mattheo’s “relationship” started up, and god, word spreads FAST in hogwarts. the whole of slytherin and gryffindor knew by the first day, ravenclaw and hufflepuff following behind after the second day, and the teachers on the fourth day. you had gained a lot of popularity and attention, and you didnt mind it most of the time, but sometimes it made you feel uneasy.

that month was full of makeouts, holding hands, going on dates (making sure pansy was where you guys were of course) , hugs, and lots more. and it seemed to be working!

you were sitting at a table in the great hall, during a study session with snape. you sat next to mattheo obviously, and the rest of his mates. you wondered if it was too obvious, what with how much time you’d been spending with him. you’d had like no break with eachother, every day was spent together.

“hey, matty?” you whisper, in order to not get caught by snape, who was in a bad mood (as usual).

“hm?”

“dont you think we’re being too.. obvious?”

“you’re just anxious, y/n. trust me, everything’s fine.” he whispers back, placing a hand on yours, as butterflies fluttered in your stomach.

you startled at the feeling, trying to shake it off.

this was your bestfriend, that you’d known since you were 5… there was nothing going on between you and him. and you didnt have feelings for him!! you couldnt… right?

you frowned. it seemed like the only thing he cared about was getting pansy back. this was the deal though, and you had to go along with it.

“y/n?” mattheo whispered again

“yes?”

“theres a party in the slytherin common room tonight, and we should both go, is that okay?”

“yeah, sure.” you reply, before a book slammed down on both of your heads, as you winced. snape swiftly walked away, and you both looked at eachother, stifling a giggle.

green lights blinded you, as music played at an ear-splitting volume, while you pushed through the crowd, trying to get to mattheo. you had another script you had to act out, and you took several shots of the probably very strong alcohol on display before it.

the thing is, you’d.. caught feelings. you knew it, and the only way you could push them away was being totally consumed by alcohol. that way, the sting of being broken up with in a fake relationship would hurt less to you.

every slight touch, every entrancing kiss, every fiery makeout made your feelings build up until you couldn’t take it anymore. you had to remind yourself that this was all an act, it meant nothing to mattheo. and.. that hurt. this whole thing was such a bad idea.

to be honest, you’d always known he was your crush. i mean, how couldnt you? he would always hug you when you were crying, and watch films with you whenever you wanted. you’d both fall asleep together, tangled up by the morning. he’d buy you your favourite foods and cravings when you were on your period, and kiss you softly on the forehead everytime he left the room or hugged.

and you guessed you’d been his crush. you were wrong.

you reached mattheo, shaking the thoughts and memories off, and he looked kind of.. unsure? his demeanour had changed a lot, and he seemed like he wanted to leave.

“okayyyyy, letsss do this.” you slur your words, grabbing him so he faces you.

“y/n, are you drunk?”

“i’m breaking up with you!!” you shriek, not caring to answer him.

he doesnt answer. he just looks at you plainly.

has he forgotten his script? you think.

“i just dont think its working. im inlove with… lorenzo!” you say in your drunken state.

the room erupts in gasps and hushed whispers. enzo whoops and high-fives blaise behind the crowd, before they come closer and see who is actually speaking. his jaw DROPS.

suddenly, pansy rushes forward to mattheo, crashing her lips onto his, as he’s taken by surprise. your eyes widen, and you frown, not processing the situation, since youre hammered.

“and you’re cheating on me?!” you scream.

you snatch a drink from someones hand next to you, throwing it all over him, before dropping the empty cup and walking out of the room, satisfied. you take some water with you, and sit down in an empty corridor, taking a few sips and sighing.

half an hour later, you hear the click-clack of footsteps getting closer to you. you’d sobered up quite a bit (after throwing up in the bathroom nearest to you), and looked around the corner expectantly.

“what the fuck, y/n? most of that wasnt part of the script. and why were you so drunk?”

“can you stop calling it that? im your girl- bestfriend, not an actor. anyway, you’ve got pansy now. im just tired of being dragged around and told what to do all the time.” you blurt out, praying he wouldnt catch the slip-up.

he sat down beside you.

“im sorry, y/n. i basically used you, and im a dick.”

“told you that already, many times.” you say, as you both laugh.

“i realised that at the party. i wanted to call it off, but you started saying stuff. i also realised something else-“

“im inlove with you!” you shriek. you didnt even know where you’d gotten that confidence from.

that was such a bad idea, im totally fucked.

he just sits there, dumbfounded. you fidget uncomfortably, wanting him to atleast answer you.

then, he puts his hand on your cheek. a soft kiss follows, and you can feel the love in this one. it wasnt like one of his put-on ones for pansy. no one was looking here. it was real.

“i love you.”

“really?” you ask.

“yes, you idiot.

“i love you too.”

“i mean, could you not tell?? all those films we watched, all the snacks i bought you, the valentines gifts that were ‘friendly’, etc etc. ive loved you since i was little.” he kisses your cheek as you smile.

“maybe this wasnt such a bad idea.”

[mcu-coworkers]

Enough for you

Summary: You realized that maybe Miguel isn't who you thought he was.

Word count:1k+

warnings: Sad reader, Sad Miguel:(

Tag list: @ahopelessromanticwritersworld  @munixumai  @deputy-videogamer  @blueberry-thrawn  @neteyamsluvts  @um-well @stinygirl009​  @marcswife21 @maladaptivedaydreamingbum​  @juleshadalittlelamb​  @taygrls​  @tanchosanke​  @chuckle-nuts​

A/n: Hello everyone and welcome to part two of “you?” I will most positively be making a part three coming very soon! Thank you all for reading! (I listened to the sour album while writing this series rough drafts)

Parts: One  Two^ Three Four

Credits to the creator^

That night you cried yourself to sleep.

Partially because Miguel completely shot you down and partially because you left your friends and suit forever.

You couldn't bear to bring back the suit or go back to HQ knowing what you knew.

You could never face Miguel or any spider again.

You wanted to so desperately let it all go and forget.

But above all else there was a city that needed you and you’d always be there for them no matter what heartbreak comes your way.

In this moment, you wished you were as heartless as miguel.

Back at HQ Miguel was looking through endless security footage on all possible earths miles could have been on.

Truth was he needed a second pair of eyes.

“Lyla.” he barked out.

“Yes, boss.” she responded, appearing on his shoulder.

“Call y/n.” he said, pausing the footage to rub his eyes.

He could take advantage of this time to apologize.

“No can do.” she replied being short with him. To be fully honest Lyla had also had enough of his shit.

“What? Lyla it wasn't a question go get me Y/n. Now.” he said, not having the energy to deal with her jokes.

“No. Miguel, you don’t-” she tried again but he cut her off.

“Fine.  I  ‘ll go get her my fucking self.” he said swinging towards the door.

“She's gone, Miguel. And it's all your fault.” Lyla said behind him.

He froze,“What?” finding your watch and your suit he stopped thinking.

“She quit. Not just the spider society, she quit being a spider entirely. Because of what you said.” Lyla finished.

“ I   didnt-  I   didnt mean it..” he said, clutching your suit in his hand.

“Well you said it anyway and it hurt her.” She responded, “And if  I   were her  I‘d probably never come back too, she deserved better Miguel. Why did you lie?” she asked confused as to why he denied himself the chance of love.

“ I   was angry  I   wasn’t thinking straight.  I  didn’t mean it.” he said barely above a whisper.

“Yeah well you sold it as far as keeping up an act goes.” she said, sighing.

Miguel could always fix his mistakes. This would be a first.

Sighing he stood straight and turned back to his desk.

Miguel had a decision to make, you or the fate of the multiverse.

It's like he said, there's no room for that kind of stuff for guys like him.

Once again he was right.

“Get Ben and Jess in here and have them start with earth 42.” he said, sounding more defeated than ever.

Still, he was clutching your suit as if you were still in it. Your scent lingering.

“Yes, boss.” was all Lyla could muster up at the moment.

Her artificial heart was breaking for the both of you. He was so close to telling you she could feel it.

It just wasn't his strongest moment.

Neither was this one as he took out his anger on the poor monitor that happened to be in his way.

Back at home you laid in bed trying to find the motivation to get back up but the truth was you didn't want to.

Everytime you tried to create a new suit you just heard Miguel's abusive words like it was the first time all over again.

And it just made you want to hide under the blankets forever.

Your spidey senses went off and then there came the portal.

You knew it wasn't Miguel, he could never.

“Hey webby? You alright in there?” you heard.

Peter.

Taking the covers off you came face to face with an exhausted Peter and a sleeping May Day.

“Heard what happened at HQ  just wanted to check in if that's okay.” he added wondering if he could take a step closer.

“ I   really screwed it up this time pete.” you said wiping the tears away for the millionth time.

God you felt pathetic.

“No way kid, that was all him. You know that right.” he said sitting next to you.

“ I   should’ve been there. But even if  I   was, I don't know if  I‘d be on his side. Miles is just a kid, We’ve all been there right?” you asked. Thinking this way makes you feel guilty.

You should stand behind Miguel at all times.

But now what did it matter you’d never step foot in HQ ever again anyways.

“You're allowed to think whatever you want. He can't take that from you.” Peter reassured me.

He was right.

“You think you’ll ever come back?” he asked, he almost entirely knew the answer but he still held out hope for you.

“ I   don't think so Pete,  I‘m sorry.” you said looking down in shame.

The reality was you could never face him again.

“Don’t be  I   wouldn't stand for that either  I  ‘m pretty sure a lot of us are done for too anyways but listen, you’re never going to be alone.” he said putting a hand on your shoulder.

“If you ever decide to come back not just as spider woman, but to the society, just know you have people in your corner.” he said, giving you a warm smile.

“Thanks pete.” you said as he stood opening a portal.

“Hey pete?” you called out.

Turning back to you he waited for you to continue.

“Don’t ever stop sending me Pictures of May Day. I need my daily serotonin boost.” you said with a soft smile earning yourself a chuckle in return.

“Never kid.” he said as he walked his way into the portal.

A soon as he was gone you went back under the covers and took a deep breath.

Peeking your head out from under the cover you looked at the picture you had framed on your wall.

It was of you receiving the key to the city.

Your city, the one you saved day and night.

Whenever it called for you.

You earned that key the same way you earned the title of spider-woman.

And you weren’t gonna let some words take that from you.

Wiping the fresh tears away you got out of bed putting Miguel's words in the back of your head and got to designing.

You were bigger than his words and you’d prove it.

In that moment you promised you’d make him regret ever  making you feel like you’re not good enough.

One day he’s gonna feel sorry for himself.

And one day you’ll be everything to somebody else.

And he’ll be the one who's crying.

Yeah, one day.

*If you’d like to be added to the tagslist just let me know I am more than happy to :)

[wickjump]

Please? 🥺

omg you all really do love me.... (theres another ask but i hit the 30 image limit so pretend theres another one here sorry). this is gonna be all over the place cause im like that. if this gets over 100 notes ill make a cross shrine in my room

OK!!!!!!! CROSS SANS TIME....

GRGRGRHRHRHHRN OKAY FIRST OF ALL. FROM AN OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT HE WAS MONUMENTAL TO THE DEVELOPMENT OF THIS FANDOM. HE IS PART OF LITERALLY THE FANDOMS BIGGEST PROJECT(S) (UNDERVERSE AND XTALE THE SERIES). HIS EXISTENCE IS LITERALLY THE REASON THIS FANDOM HAS THRIVED FOR SO LONG AFTER SO MANY YEARS. UNDERVERSE IS KEY TO THE FANDOMS SURVIVAL AND CROSS IS A CORE PART OF IT.

HIS STORY IS A FUCKING MASTERPIECE. YEAH I MIGHT BE BIASED BUT SHUT UP. HIS STORY BROUGHT TOGETHER A LOT OF THE FANDOMS IDEAS IN A VISUAL SENSE LIKE NEVER BEFORE. HE EXISTS IN A WORLD THAT IS SO FAR FROM UNDERTALE YET NOT FAR ENOUGH TO BE LIKE DREAMTALE. HE HELPED ESTABLISH THE UNDERTALE MULTIVERSE AS A WHOLE. HE IS A PRODUCT OF A WORLD MADE BY A MEGALOMANIAC (get it) THAT HAS GONE THROUGH TEN WHOLE REBIRTHS. THOUGH HE WASNT A CORE PART OF IT UNTIL THE END OF TIMELINE X, HE ALSO PLAYED A SIGNIFICANT PART IN TIMELINE 2 WHERE HE AND FRISK DEVELOPED THEIR FIRST FRIENDSHIP WITH EACH OTHER AND THEN HE DIED AND AND. CROSS IS SO FAR FROM WHO HE WAS IN EVERY PAST REBIRTH. TIMELINE 1 IS JUST A COPY PASTE OF SANS. TIMELINE 2 IS SOME WEIRD AMALGAMATION OF SANS AND SWAP. TIMELINE 9 (I FORGOT THE ROMAN NUMERAL) STRAYS MORE TOWARDS CLASSIC SANS THAN NOT. AND TIMELINE X HE IS FULL SWAP. AND THAT MUST BE FUCKING WILD TO EXPERIENCE BECAUSE WHILE HE DIDNT GET THE MEMORIES OF PREVIOUS TIMELINES LIKE THE OTHER AU INHABITANTS DID HE FOUND OUT ABOUT THE PREVIOUS TIMELINE REBIRTHS AND AND AND

HES A SWAP. HE IS A SWAP SANS. AND ILL DRILL THIS INTO YOUR MIND AS OFTEN AS I NEED TO. HE IS A SWAP SANS. HE EATS TACOS. HE HAS STARS FOR EYES. THINGS FLY OVER HIS HEAD. HE IS PHYSICALLY STRONG BUT NOT THAT SMART. HE MWEHEHEHS (KIND OF IMPLIED). COME ON DUDE. STOP FORGETTING THIS. MAKE HIM MWEHEHEH MORE. MAKE HIM STAR-EYES MORE WHEN CLASSICS JUST,,, DONT. I NEED THERE TO BE DIFFERENCES CUZ THERES SO MUCH POTENTIAL THERE COME ONNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

AAND THATS NOT EVEN TOUCHING ON HIS CHILDHOOD. HE WAS DEADASS VERBALLY AND PHYSICALLY ABUSED BY XGASTER AND HEAVILY NEGLECTED AND WE IGNORE THIS FOR WHY??? HE WAS BEAT AS A KID HELLO??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??! STOP MAKING HIM AN ALPHA GRR MALE AND BREAK DOWN THE WALLS HE WAS FORCED TO BUILD SINCE CHILDHOOD AND GIVE HIM A GOODDAMN SMORE ON A STICK AND WEIGHTED BLANKET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

what a perfectly healthy and normal way to look at your father

HE IS MY FAVORITE TO PROJECT ONTO HIM. HE GREW UP IN THE HOUSE OF A CONTROL FREAK WHO WAS NOT AGAINST USING PHYSICAL VIOLENCE AGAINST A CHILD SO YOUNG THEY HAVE TO USE A FUCKING STEP-STOOL TO REACH THE BATHROOM SINK. HOW FUCKED UP IS THAT. HE IS LITERALLY THE PERFECT PROJECTION DOLL. SUFFERED CHILDHOOD TRAUMA? CROSS IS YA BOY. MAKE HIM SUFFER. CAUSE HE ALREADY HAS. I CAN MAKE HIM HAVE MY PTSD SYMPTOMS ALL I WANT CUZ HES ME FR!!!!!!

ALSO ALPHYS IS HIS SISTER HOLY SHIT CAN WE TALK ABOUT THAT MORE??? "OHH BUT TECHNICALLY ALPHYS ISNT AND XPAPYRUS SAID-" THEY GREW UP TOGETHER. WITH THE SAME MAN RAISING THEM. IN THE SAME HOUSE. THEY WENT AS GROUPS TO THINGS. THEY LIKELY WENT TO THE SAME SCHOOLS. THEY SAT AT THE DINNER TABLE TOGETHER. THEY PLAYED TOGETHER. THEY HUNG OUT WITH THE SAME FRIENDS AT THE SAME TIME. ALPHYS HAS A SPECIAL CARE FOR CROSS THAT SHE DOESNT SHOW FOR MOST OTHERS. AND SHES A LESBIAN SO DONT TWIST IT TO BE LIKE A CRUSH OR SOMETHING. THEY R SIBLINGS. THEYRE JUST FLAT OUT SIBLINGS. YEAH PAPYRUS SAID THEYRE NOT BUT PAPYRUS ALSO HAS DISTANCED HIMSELF A LOT FROM HIS FAMILY OVER THE YEARS MEANWHILE CROSS STAYED PUT MORE OFTEN THAN NOT. PAPYRUS HATES XGASTER AND HAS SHOWN THAT DISDAIN MANY MANY MANY MANY TIMES--EVEN EXTENDING THAT DISDAIN TOWARDS ALPHYS HERSELF. HE ONLY STAYS CONNECTED WITH CROSS AND I KNOW DAMN WELL A GOOD CHUNK OF HIS REASONING FOR THAT IS BECAUSE THEY LITERALLY WORK TOGETHER. CROSS HAS ALSO SHOWN THE DISDAIN FOR XGASTER BUT ALSO HOLDS A TYPE OF LONGING AND FEAR IN REFERENCE TO HIS FATHER. PLEASE. PLEASE. COME ON. GIVE ME THIS.

ALPHYS IS LITERALLY HIS SISTER. THEYRE SIBLINGS. PLEASE. PLEASE. PLEASE. PLEASE. PLEASE. THERES SO MUCH POTENTIAL THERE. HES THE ONLY SANS TO HAVE A SISTER. THE ONLY SANS THAT SEES ALPHYS AS A SISTER. HOW ISOLATED MUST THAT MAKE HIM FEEL. NOT ONLY IS HIS AU SUCH AN AMALGAMATION THAT HE CANT CORRECTLY RELATE WITH CLASSICS OR SWAPS, BUT HE CANT EVEN RELATE TO ANYONE ABOUT ALPHYS. WILD SHIT.

OKAY ANYWAY. AFTER EVERYTHING CROSS WENT THROUGH AS A KID EVENTUALLY HE DISCOVERED HIS DAD WASNT JUST AN ABUSIVE POS BUT ALSO THAT HE CONTROLS THE VERY WORLD HE LIVES IN AND THAT HE IS JUST A SMALL PART OF SOMETHING MUCH GREATER, ONLY INTRODUCED BECAUSE HE TRUSTED FRISK ENOUGH FOR HIM TO CHOOSE CROSS OUT OF EVERYONE. THAT EVERYTHING ABOUT THE WORLD HE LIVES IN IS BECAUSE OF HIS SHITASS DAD. AND HES CONFUSED AND HES ANGRY. AND HIS WORLDVIEW IS COMPLETELY SHATTERED. EVERYTHING HE KNEW WAS A LIE AND HE WAS ALWAYS UNDER XGASTER'S CONTROL. HOW FUCKED UP MUST THAT BE TO REALIZE. ALSO HE WAS STABBED A LOT BY HIS BEST FRIEND. DUDE LOST HIS SENSE OF EVERYTHING. SENSE OF SELF, OF WHO HE CAN TRUST, FAMILY, ETC. AND IT WAS EVEN MORE DRIVEN IN WHEN UNDYNE AND PAPYRUS LITERALLY ATTEMPTED TO KILL HIM. HELLO???

AND. CROSS' OWN NAME. HIS NAME WAS SANS FOR MOST OF HIS LIFE, BUT NOW HE CALLS HIMSELF CROSS AND WILL INSIST THAT NAME IS USED FOR HIM AT ALL TIMES (i know what you are...it fucken transgemder...). BUT THATS NOT. BUT THATS NOT EVEN CONSIDERING THE ONLY REASON HE GOT THAT NAME WAS BECAUSE OF FRISK SEMI-TAUNTING HIM WHILE CROSS WAS IN THE MIDST OF DYING IN HIS DREAM WORLD. THE ONLY THING CROSS HAS LEFT OF HIS BEST FRIEND IS THE NAME HE WAS GIVEN WHILST BLEEDING OUT FROM LIKE 20 STAB WOUNDS. AND YET CROSS IDENTIFIES WITH THAT NAME SO PAINFULLY MUCH HE WILL PHYSICALLY FIGHT AND KICK AND SCREAM TO HAVE IT USED. THE NAME SANS USED FOR HIM MAKES HIM RECOIL.

AND HIS DYNAMIC WITH CHARA??? PAINFULLY UNDERUSED SO SO PAINFULLY UNDERUSED. OH MY GOD. THEY COULD BE THE BROTHERS EVER BUT NOOO YOU HATE CHARA!!!!!! THEY BOTH WENT THROUGH SO MUCH FROM XGASTER AND LOST EVERYTHING THEY LOVE AND CARE ABOUT. BOTH WERE CLOSE TO FRISK. BOTH WERE ABUSED. IF YOU KEEP THE SCAR AND THE RED EYE YOU GOTTA KEEP CHARA THATS THE RULES MAN. SAYING HES LOCKED AWAY IS COWARD SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!

CHARA AND HE HAVE FUN BANTER. THEYRE EXCITING. EVERY FIC WITH CHARA WAS A BETTER READ AUTOMATICALLY BECAUSE I LOVE SEEING THEIR DYNAMIC AND ALSO I LOVE CHARA. THE WAY THEY BOTH HAVE DEVELOPED AS PEOPLE FOLLOWING THEIR TRAUMATIC EXPERIENCES AND ACROSS THE DURATION OF THE X-EVENT IS WILD AND AND AND I LOVE IT. THE PARALELLS BETWEEN CROSS AND CHARA, AND CHARA AND XGASTER. THERE IS SO MUCH HURT COMFORT POTENTIAL HELLO?? AND ANGST LIKE. IMAGINE HAVING TO STAY STILL AND NOT REACT AS A GHOST TEENAGER HURLS INSULTS AT YOU THAT HURT DEEPLY, TRYING TO GET A REACTION. IMAGINE THAT SAME GHOST TEENAGER SILENTLY CRYING TO HIMSELF WHEN HE THINKS YOURE ASLEEP. IMAGINE GOING TO A SECLUDED PLACE AND YELLING AT THAT GHOST TEENAGER THAT FOLLOWS YOU AROUND AFTER A DAY OF HAVING TO IGNORE HIM. IMAGINE THAT GHOST TEENAGER WITHHOLDING INFORMATION ABOUT YOUR PAST LIVES. IMAGINE THAT GHOST TEENAGER AND YOU TALKING THINGS OUT. IMAGINE THAT GHOST TEENAGER NAGGING YOU TO EAT CHICKEN NUGGETS BECAUSE HE REALLY WANTS CHICKEN NUGGETS BUT HE CANT CONTROL THE BODY SO CROSS HAS TO EAT THEM FOR HIM SO HE GETS THE SENSATION OF EATING AND THE TASTE OF SAID NUGGIES. IMAGINE BEING INJURED AND THE GHOST TEENAGER WHO HAS YELLED AT YOU MORE TIMES THAN YOU CAN COUNT IS TRYING TO KEEP YOU FOCUSED AND AWAKE AND WHILE HE CANT TOUCH YOU HES TRYING HIS BEST TO COMFORT YOU THE BEST WAY HE CAN BECAUSE YOU JUST STARTED TO UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER DAMMIT, YOU CANT DIE NOW. IMAGINE THAT GHOST TEENAGER REALIZING HE'S ACTING LIKE HIS ABUSIVE DAD WHEN HE YELLS AT CROSS WHAT XGASTER ONCE YELLED AT HIM. IMAGINE THAT GHOST TEENAGER POKING FUN AT CROSS' MISTAKES AND BEING LIKE AN ANNOYING LITTLE BROTHER. IMAGINE THEM DEFENDING EACH OTHERS' NAMES DESPITE THEIR DIFFERENCES BC THEYRE BROTHERS AND THATS WHAT BROTHERS DO. PLEEAAASEEEE.

ALSO THE POTENTIAL HE HAS WITH TORIEL IS REALLY CUTE AND IGNORED. SHES KIND OF LIKE A MOTHER FIGURE TO HIM IDK.... HE DESERVES A MOM I FEEL. EVEN THOUGH SHE WAS MORE LIKE AN AUNT (asriel calls xgaster "uncle") I REALLY LOVE THE IDEA OF THE DREEMURRS BEING PARENTAL TO CROSS. I MEAN. LOOK AT THEM.

HE AND METTATON ARE SO FUNNY TOO BECAUSE THEY HATE EACH OTHERS GUTS SO MUCH. WHICH IS WILD BECAUSE CROSS IS FRISK'S BEST FRIEND, YET METTATON WAS MADE TO PROTECT FRISK. BUT THEY HATE EACH OTHER. AND ITS SO FUNNY. do you think cross is curt with literally every mettaton he sees out of habit. i mean come on LOOK AT THEM. THEYRE SO STUPID.

ALSO CROSS IS SO FUCKING SHORT OH MY GOD. HES 4 FOOT 7 (i thought he was 5 feet until a few days ago cuz that was his old height). i need you to process this. like actually. i am 5'5. i would be 9 inches taller than him. i would be nine inches taller than him. 4'11? 4 inches taller than his tiny ass. he is literally so small. PLEASE make him tiny more often ill be so appreciative. he needs help reaching the cabinets

HES ALSO A FUCKING CUTIE PATOOTIE. HES GOT LITTLE FANGS. HES GOT FANGS!! BITEY BOYS!!!!!!!!! HES GOT FANGS AND THEYRE SHARP!! HE PROBABLY BITES HIS TONGUE SO VERY MUCH!!!!!!!! BITEY BOY. HE WAS A BITER AS A KID TOO. COME ON. EVEN IN UNDERVERSE HES GOT BIG ASS FANGS. ITS NOT JUST A STYLE CHOICE HES LITERALLY A BITEY BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HES GOT SHARP TEETHERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he probably needed chew toys as a kid (so did i)`

AND HIS MOUTH. THE WAY ITS ALEWAYS LIKE THIS. HES ALWAYS GOT THAT STUPID LITTLE CHEEK. HE JUST. HES SO.. RGGRGRGRGGRGRROWLS I LOVE HIM!! HE IS SO SILLAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

AND HES SO SMUG TOO ALL THE TIME. HE HAS SOME SUPERIORITY COMPLEX AT ALL TIMES. LOOK AT HIS SMUG FUCKING FACE. LOOK AT HIM. DUMBASS. HE DOES THIS SIGNATURE BASTARD THING WHERE HE TURNS HIS HEAD TO THE SIDE WITH A SCOFF. HE IS SO PRISSY. SO UPTIGHT ALL THE TIME. GOD

hes such a FUCKING MENACE TOO. LOOK AT THIS ASSHOLE.

HES TERRIBLE. HES SUCH A DICK. HES A MENACE AND SHOULD BE KEPT ON A LEASH. HES A SMUG IDIOT WHO THINKS HES BETTER THAN SO MANY PEOPLE AND HE IS MEAN AND SORT OF FULL OF HIMSELF AND DEFINITELY ACTS LIKE MOST PEOPLE FROM THE MILITARY IVE MET. which is fitting because hes FROM THE XTALE MILITARY. "ROYAL GUARD" IN XTALE IS JUST DEADASS THE MILITARY. HIS STUPID SELF WENT TO BOOT CAMP. AND YET HES LIKE THIS. AWFUL. HES MEAN TO KIDS. HE LITERALLY STOLE A CHILD'S CHOCOLATE MILK. WHO DOES THAT. APPARENTLY CROSS DOES.

HE IS JUST. CANONICALLY AWFUL TO KIDS. HES NEEDLESSLY JUST. MEAN TO THEM. FOR NO REASON. HE DOESNT KNOW HOW TO HANDLE KIDS. WASNT GIVEN A GOOD EXAMPLE. TERRIBLE BABYSITTER. BUT ALSO HE'D CANONICALLY LOVE HIS DAUGHTER IF HE EVER HAD ONE.... HE DOESNT WANNA TREAT HIS CHILD LIKE HIS DAD TREATED HIM.... SIGHS... HE CALLS HIS DAUGHTER HIS PRINCESS WTF,,, HES A CUTIE PIE.!!!!!!!!!!! HE NEEDS 2 WORK THINGS OUT :(

AND AND AND. THE LITTLE WAYS HE CHOOSES TO REBEL. LIKE HIS NEW TERRIBLE AS HELL OUTFIT WITH THE BOOB WINDOW. WHICH I DONT LIKE. BUT ITS A WAY FOR HIM TO REBEL AGAINST WHAT HES FORCED TO BE HIS ENTIRE LIFE YADDA YADDA. THE OLD OUTFIT WAS BETTER BUT THE SYMBOLISM HERE IS NEAT. ANYWAY. THE LEFTOVER FEELINGS AND RAGE AND ANGER HE HAS FOR HIS FATHER BUT THE LONGING TO BE ACCEPTED AND LOVED BY HIM?!?!??!?!?!?! COME ON GUYS. WE CAN DO BETTER THAN THIS. WE CAN MAKE HIM HAVE MORE DADDY ISSUES

HE IS SO CONFLICTING FEELINGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! INTOXICATED ASSHOLE WANTS A HUG FROM HIS DAD BUT ALSO HATES HIS DAD SOOOOOOOOO MUCH.

ALSO LOOK AT HIM AS A DUMB CUTE LITTLE BABY. BABY BOY. FAT USELESS INFANT. ADORABLE. I LOVE HIM

HE DOESNT KNOW ANYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NOTHING AT ALL!!! SWEET BABY BOY...... HE KNOWS NOT OF THE HORRORS THAT AWAIT HIM!!!!!!

and hes a CRYBABY TOO AND I LOVE THAT FOR HIM. GRGHRGRRGRHWOLOWLSS

he was BORN A CRYBABY AND THATS HOW HE'LL DIE!!! AND NOBODY UTILIZES THIS BTW. IVE GOT LIKE FOUR OR FIVE OTHER PHOTOS OF HIM JUST CRYING IN SITUATIONS WHERE CRYING ISNT WARRANTED. BUT HE DOES. HE CRIES WHEN HE IS MILDLY FRUSTRATED. HE CRIES WHEN HE IS MILDLY ASHAMED. WHERE IS HIM CRYING OVER STUPID SHIT. WHERE IS HIM TAKING A JOKE TOO PERSONALLY AND HE TEARS UP AGAINST HIS WILL. WHERE IS HIM SOBBING IN HIS ROOM OVER SOMETHING SOMEONE SAID IN PASSING THAT HIT TOO HARD. WHY DOESNT HE CRY MORE. YOURE ALL PUSSIES. MAKE HIM CRY MORE OFTEN. CRYBABY CROSS. HE DESERVES 2 BE ONE AFTER BEING WARPED INTO AN ALPHA MALE FOR THE PAST EIGHT GODDAMN YEARS. FUCK

AND AND AND THATS NOT EVEN CLOSE TO TOUCHING HIS FANON INTERACTIONS WHICH I LOVE JUST AS MUCH. HOW EVERYONE INSTANTLY DECIDED HED HAVE A RIVALRY WITH KILLER GIVEN HOW CROSS IS EASY TO RILE UP AND FRUSTRATE WHILE KILLER IS THE BUTTON PUSHER?? GREAT SHIT. ALL OF YOU. GOOD JOB. ITS FUCKING BRILLIANT. THANK YOU.

CROSS JOINING NIGHTMARE'S GROUP IS MY FAVORITE INTERPETATION. SPECIFICALLY BECAUSE I KNOW HE WOULDNT WANT TO. CROSS IS FUCKED UP BUT HE HAS MORALS, HE STILL FOLLOWS THE ROYAL GUARD CODE MENTALLY. HE DOESNT LIKE KILLING. HE DOESNT AGREE WITH NEEDLESS MURDER. HE CAN HARM, SURE, BUT ALL THE DEATH WAS XCHARA'S DIRECT ACTIONS OR HEAVY INFLUENCE (love u xchara). CROSS WOULD LOATHE TO JOIN NIGHTMARES GROUP AS A LACKEY WHO GOES AROUND KILLING PEOPLE FOR NO GAIN TOWARDS HIMSELF. HE DOES WHAT HE DOES TO GET HIS AU BACK. JOINING NIGHTMARE'S TEAM WITH NO HELP TOWARDS THAT GOAL WOULD BE HELL ON HIM, EVEN IN A FANON SETTING. BECAUSE HE'D HATE IT. HE'S GONE FROM A RIGHTEOUS ROYAL GUARD WHO HELPED THOSE IN NEED TO SOMEONE WHO LIVES WITH A GROUP OF MURDERERS AND AIDS THEM IN THEIR KILLING OF INNOCENTS. i like to think cross doesnt kill, like he just. refuses to. he will hurt and incapacitate, but he doesn't kill. and he also refuses to harm children, papyri, alphys, whatever. there were times where he couldve killed one of the stars but he didn't and idk i like that. i like it when hes like that.

I ALSO LOVE FANON AND CANON DYNAMICS WITH NM'S GROUP EITHER AS A WHOLE OR AS INDIVIDIUALS. I LOVE KROSS SO OBVIOUSLY KILLER AND CROSS' DYNAMIC IS MY FAVORITE. I LOVE RIVALS. I LOVE PEOPLE WHO CANT STAND EACH OTHER. I LOVE IT WHEN KILLER BUGS CROSS UNTIL HE SNAPS AND THATS WHEN THEIR DYNAMIC GETS MORE INTERESTING. I LOVE IT WHEN CROSS GETS RILED UP AND ANGRY. I LOVE IT WHEN HES MAD AND GOT ISSUES. I LOVE IT WHEN KILLER EGGS HIM ON BECAUSE ITS FUNNY. I LOVE WHEN THEY REACH A DEEPER UNDERSTANDING.

HORROR AND DUST... MAN. I LOVE DUST AND CROSS' DYNAMIC THE MOST OUT OF THE TWO JUST CAUSE DUST IS ONE OF MY FAVORITES. THEY BOTH HAVE GHOST BROTHERS (EVEN IF ONE ISNT EXACTLY REAL). DUST IS PARANOID AND JITTERY BUT MOST OF ALL QUIET, HE DOESNT PICK FIGHTS LIKE KILLER DOES SO CROSS LIKES HIM FOR THAT. THEY HANG AROUND IN SILENCE I THINK,,,

HORROR MAKES CROSS THINK OF HOME IN A WAY BECAUSE OF HOW HE COOKS AND WHAT HE COOKS. HORROR IS VERY RUMBLY AND SORT OF LIKE A GREAT DANE AND DEFINITELY VERY INTIMIDATING AT FIRST. HE SCARED OFF CROSS SO SO MUCH AT FIRST. I THINK CROSS ASKING HIM TO MAKE LIKE TACOS OR A BUTTERSCOTCH CINNAMON PIE WAS WHEN THEY STARTED 2 GET CLOSER. BUT THATS CAUSE I LOVE THEM AS A SHIP TOO SO YOU MIGHT BE GETTING SOME UNDERTONES. THATS WHY. HOWEVER THERES ALSO ANGST POTENTIAL GIVEN THE DIFFERENCE IN THEIR ALPHYS'. HORROR LOBOTOMIZED HER. CROSS WAS RAISED ALONGSIDE HER. LOVELY

NIGHTMARE IS A SUPER COOL CHARACTER IN UNDERVERSE I FEEL. NOT JUST BECAUSE HE IS VIOLENCE ITSELF BUT BECAUSE OF HOW MANIPULATIVE HE WAS. IN CANON IT WOULDNT BE TOO HARD TO MANIPULATE CROSS INTO FULLY JOINING, EXCEPT IN UNDERVERSE HE DIDNT HAVE A TEAM, JUST KILLER. IF HE DID, I DONT DOUBT HE COULD MANIPULATE CROSS INTO JOINING. CROSS HAD LOST EVERYTHING, AND HE WOULD DO ANYTHING TO GET HIS WORLD, HIS FAMILY, BACK. IN FANON, NIGHTMARE IS A LOT MORE A "take you under my wing" KIND OF FIGURE I THINK!!!!!!!!!! HE CARES FOR CROSS IN THAT REGARD, TAKING IN A STUBBORN SOLDIER WHO LOST AS MUCH AS THE OTHER MEMBERS OF HIS TEAM. EITHER WAY I LIKE HIM. I THINK CROSS WOULD HATE HIS GUTS IN CANON, BECAUSE. HE DOES. YEAH. BUT IN A MORE FANON SETTING CROSS WOULD BE PAINFULLY LOYAL EVEN IF IT HURT HIM, BECAUSE CROSS IS USED TO SURRENDERING HIMSELF TO LOYALTY. HIS MORALS, HIS WANTS, NOTHING MATTERS WHEN HE HAS A JOB TO DO AND SOMEONE TO PLEASE. NIGHTMARE COULD VERY WELL BE THAT, THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN CANONMARE AND FANONMARE IS HOW NM REACTS.

AND EPIC. I LOVE YOU EPIC. I LOVE HIS DYNAMIC WITH EPIC. I LOVE HOW CROSS KNEW EPIC AND THEN FORGOT. AND THEN MET HIM AGAIN AND AND. GRGRRHRHH. HOW THEY WERE FRIENDS IN ANOTHER LIFE AND THEYRE FRIENDS IN THIS ONE TOO. HOW DESPITE HOW DIFFERENT CROSS IS NOW, EPIC STAYS. I LOVE HOW THEYRE CASUAL BESTIES. I LOVE HOW THEYRE SILLY TOGETHER AND WATCH EACH OTHER DO STUPID SHIT AND EGG EACH OTHER ON. I LOVE HOW THEYRE DUMB TOGETHER AND MAKE SILLY JOKES AND WATCH ANIME AND MAKE SILLY REFERENCES. I LOVE THEM. EVERYONE IS PROBABLY SO TIRED OF THEM. THEYRE SO DUMB AND SILLY AND GRGRRHRRHHRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THEYRE BESTIES. THEYRE THE DUMBEST BESTEST FRIENDS. CROSS ONLY EVER TRULY UNWINDS AND LETS HIS GUARD DOWN WHEN EPIC'S AROUND AND THERES SOMETHING SPECIAL ABOUT THAT. SOULMATES I TELL U.......

THE STARS!!! COULDNT FINISH THIS POST WITHOUT MENTIONING THEM. CROSS' DYNAMIC WITH THEM ISNT SOMETHING I FOCUS ON TOO-TOO MUCH NORMALLY BUT HERE WE GO!!!!

HIM AND SWAP FIRST. CROSS RELATES MORE TO SWAP THAN HE DOES MOST OTHER SANSES BECAUSE CROSS IS A SWAP. THIS IS KIND OF CANON TOO. WHILE CROSS FINDS A LOT OF CLASSIC BEHAVIORS DETESTABLE (ie drinking condiments or overall being lazy), SWAP IS LIKE HIM IN THAT REGARD. THEYRE BESTIES. THEY INTERACT A LOT OUTSIDE OF THEIR BRIEF CANON MEETING. JAKEI DRAWS THEM LOTS,,,,, SIGHS,,, I THINK THEYD BE GOOD FRIENDS EVEN IF CROSS ISNT IN THE STARS, LIKE A TRUCE AU OR JUST WHERE CROSS DOESNT ALIGN HIMSELF WITH ANY TEAM OR EVEN WHERE CROSS DOES, BUT THIS SWAP ISNT THE SAME ONE ON THE STARS' TEAM. THEYD BE SUPER CLOSE FRIENDS I THINK... au where cross is on nm's team but hangs out with a random swap from an unaffected timeline to destress between jobs, but that swap ends up being the one in the stars and idk. beginning of a truce or something much worse. u decide

DREAM!!!!! I DONT LIKE CREAM BUT I LOVE THEIR DYNAMIC IN CANON IN A PLATONIC WAY. I THINK THEYD BE FRIENDS. DREAM INSPIRES HOPE IN CROSS IN A WAY THAT HE THOUGHT HE LOST, REMINDING HIM OF HIS ROOTS AND HIS SENSE OF BELONGING IN THE ROYAL GUARD. WHICH IS A SCENE THAT MADE ME TEAR UP. THAT KIND OF HOPE IS JUST WHAT CROSS NEEDED IN THE MOMENT AND I FEEL DREAM COULD BE A REALLY GOOD GENUINE MORAL SUPPORT IN THAT REGARD. A GOOD INFLUENCE THAT CROSS 100% NEEDS. IF CROSS IS ON NM'S TEAM, DREAM IS THE ONE THAT MAKES CROSS HESITATE EVERY TIME DREAM OFFERS AND CROSS IS ABOUT TO DENY.

INK. WOULDNT BE A CROSS POST WITHOUT A LITTLE BIT OF INK WOULD IT. INK AND CROSS ARE SO DIVORCEES I THINK. BOTH WERE MANIPULATED BY XGASTER, ALTHOUGH CROSS WAS TREATED AHEM A LOT MORE POORLY. INK IS A REMINDER OF CROSS' PAST AND HIS TIME SPENT IN THE REMAINS OF HIS AU, IN ISOLATION. YET INK WAS ALSO HIS FRIEND. INK MEANT THE WORLD TO HIM BACK THEN. AND INSTINCTUALLY CROSS STILL DEFENDS HIM, EVEN IF HES ANGRY AND HATES INK FOR WHAT HE DID. THEYRE FULL OF CONFLICTING FEELINGS. AND I LOVE BOTH EQUALLY WHERE THEY EITHER TALK THINGS OUT OR WHERE IT STEWS FOREVER.

I ALSO REALLY LOVE JAKEIS DEVELOPMENT OF HIM. AT FIRST HE WAS A VERY ANGRY CHARACTER WHO WAS SORT OF DISSOCIATING AND IN A TERRIBLE MENTAL STATE (TO WHERE IF HE WAS ABLE TO USE THE OVERWRITE BUTTON AT THE TIME OF BEING TRAPPED IN THE REMAINS OF HIS AU HE WOULD HAVE DESTROYED HIS BODY AND ANY CHANCE OF FIXING THE AU BECAUSE HE IS SO OUT OF IT MENTALLY). AND HE REMAINED ANGRY FOR A GOOD BIT. AND THEN GOT EMO AND SAD. AND THEN HE GOT TIRED. AND NOW HES BACK TO BEING ANGRY AGAIN MOST LIKELY GIVEN THE FEW SNEAK PEAKS IVE SEEN OF THE NEXT UNDERVERSE EP. IM EXCITED TO SEE HOW HE REACTS TO SEEING XGASTER AGAIN. IM ALSO MOSTLY EXCITED FOR HIS OLD OUTFIT BEING BACK. I DIDNT LIKE THE BOOB WINDOW OR SLEEVELESS JOCK GETUP. SORRY CROSS

CAPSLOCK IS GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME

OKAY. ANYWAY. HIS KNIFE THE BIG RED KNIFE. I MISS IT SO MUCH. THAT KNIFE INFLUENCED MY CHARACTER DESIGN FOR AGES. HES EDGY AND EMO AND I MISS THE KNIFE. THERE WAS SOMETHING ICONIC TO ME ABOUT IT. BIG RED KNIFE IS STILL CANON.... XCHARA COME BACK... I NEED U TO KNIFE HIM UP AGAIN...

AND AND AND. AND. CROSS!!!! HES PERFECT TO PROJECT ANYTHING ONTO. HES PERFECT TO WRITE ANGST OF. AND COMFORT I GUESS. HES MY FAVORITE CHARACTER TO WRITE THE DEHUMANIZATION OF BECAUSE HE EVEN CALLS HIMSELF A DOG AT ONE POINT IN UNDERVERSE. HELLO???? THERE WAS A POST THAT WENT LIKE "submissive in the way a dog is submissive to the sheep it kills coyotes for" THATS CROSS. THOSE IMAGES WHERE ITS A NOSTALGIC PICTURE OF A DOG/WOLF WITH TEXT IN A TYPEWRITER FONT ABOUT LOYALTY BEING THE DEATH OF YOU? CROSS. "IM NOT A VIOLENT DOG I DONT KNOW WHY I BITE" "I WONT WAIT FOR YOU, I BITE"? CROSS. CROSS CROSS CROSS. HE IS PERFECT BECAUSE HE IS ANGRY AND HE IS VIOLENT BUT HE IS HURTING. AND HE HURTS SO GODDAMN MUCH.

ID ADD SO MANY MORE IMAGES BUT I HIT THE 30 IMAGE LIMIT?!?!?!?!? PLEASE TELL ME U KNOW WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT THO.... PLEASE.... COME ON.......

I LOVE CROSS SO MUCH. I REALLY DO. HES MY BESTEST BOY EVER. I WOULD SAY GOOD BOY AND HE WOULD TREMBLE. I JUST REALIZED HOW SUGGESTIVE THAT SOUNDED. TAKE THAT AS YOU WILL I GUESS. ANYWAY YES CROSS SANS

I LOVE HIM. HES MY FAVORITE. I LOVE HIM AND HIS DYNAMICS WITH OTHER CHARACTERS. I LOVE HIM AND HIS STORY. I LOVE HIM AND HIS STUPID HABITS. HIS DAILY STRUGGLE TO GET DRESSED BC HES STUPID AND THE OUTFIT IS COMPLICATED. THE WAY HE CRIES SO MUCH. HIS STUPID FACE. HIS SMUG ASS STANCE. HIS STRAIGHT FUCKING POSTURE. THE WAY HES AN ASSHOLE TO EVERYONE WHO DOESNT HOLD DIRECT POWER OVER HIM. THE WAY HES DEVELOPED AS A CHARACTER OVER THE YEARS. I LOVE HIM.

THIS ISNT EVEN ALL OF IT. BUT ITS GETTING SO LONG IM JUST. GONNA END HERE. LMFAO. OK THATS IT

BYEBYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

[axellis]

good morning im politely requesting people look at my post abt how the ancients see each other

under the cut some closeups + a ton of additional thoughts

hollyberry + golden cheese are also part of the crew of 'thinking pv is a bit naive', but he's also the most emotionally intelligent out of all of them and incredibly empathetic and thats something they both respect a whole lot .

dark cacao on the flipside can see how much of a mental toll being empathetic can be

white lily seems to have the most "whole" thought of pv - which would make sense, she's been with him the longest and has seen every facet that is pv. but even still her worries that he's too trusting of her are eating away at her thoughts- as such a pv shapeshifter made of her subconscious Would be way more naive .

in my head white lily's pv would be the last shapeshifter and in order to tell the difference between them white lily would ask if he ever doubted her . the real pv would say that he definitely struggled and had been lost and confused- but ultimately trusts her above all else . vs the shapeshifter who would just say "no I'd never doubt you" .

i didnt have room for it but i think dark cacao also recognizes hollyberrys seriousness . if you get drunk with someone enough times you'll start to piece together the really vulnerable moments you had with eachother . i think hollyberry and dark cacao have the closest relationship and im not saying this because im in love with both of them

golden cheese has a bit of a recollection issue and you can see that with hollyberry + cacao the most. golden cheese reminisces a Lot and that affects how she remembers the othera . hollyberrys is a bit of a trickier thing but in this instance golden cheese doesnt remember the braids. she knows hollyberry has a different outfit than before but doesn't pay it much mind

you might have noticed the pattern at this point of pure vanilla having a bit of a cutesy interpretation of all the ancients. he loves his friends so much that he has a bit of a harder time being critical of them. he thinks dark cacaos seriousness/grumpiness is endearing. to be honest its partly an inverse of shadow milks interpretation of the ancients (simple and positive vs simple and negative) but that wasnt entirely intentional. just interesting to notate now that im thinking of it

hollyberrys dark cacao is a bit of an inverse also to what i was talking about with dark cacaos hollyberry . shes seen the sweeter more heartfelt side of dark cacao and that shines through to her

if it wasnt for the outfit + hair, golden cheese's dark cacao would have probably been the last shape shifter standing

and i will stand by the dragon cacao headcanon till the day i die

golden cheese's was fun to think about bc of the little details that are different between the different shapeshifters- specifically in the neck area (bc thays the only portion you guys get to see) . dark cacaos is a bit more of a hanbok style, white lily has a turtleneck thing kind of happening, etc etc. i think pure vanilla has the most accurate idea of what she looks like .

i think white lilys interestingly enough would be the last one standing because i honestly dont think her golden cheese would even be talking with her :(( so we'd only really find out the difference when white lily's gc is forced to talk to her . white lily thinks that gc hates her and wants her gone but golden cheese's feelings are wayy wayyy more complicated. golden cheese doesn't want white lily gone she Is glad that she's back but its also hard. everything she loves is gone right now . but she's going to find a way to get it back- and if white lily can help than maybe that'll rekindle their relationship.

the cuteification beam still reaches for white lily despite how much pv knows her . i doubt this would help with white lilys feelings that pv is being naive bc shes looking at a shapeshifter based off of pvs subconscious and that subconscious is showing so mucy nostalgia it probably hurts

hollyberry in the past probably really babied white lily + pure vanilla because she Knows theyre not eating . shes observant as hell and will always demand they have at least one bite of something in order to figure out if they're Really "not hungry".

the last one would probably land on golden cheese's bc again . her feelings are complicated and as such her subconscious would showcase that multifaceted issue of "knowing this is your friend and also knowing your friend is responsible for your kingdoms destruction".

[sockeye-station]

Wait is your four the captain? How did that happen?

YES! YES!! I GOT SOMEONE TO ASK ABOUT IT! I WIN!!!!

CLEARS THROAT. OKAY OKAY OKAY IVE HAD THIS ROTATING IN MY HEAD FOR A HOT FUCKN MINUTE AND ILL TRY MY BEST TO EXPLAIN IT IN A WAY THAT MAKES SENSE

OKAY. LETS REWIND ALL THE WAY BACK TO OCTO EXPANSION!!!

so! octo expansion goes all normally, we have our agent 8 fighting through the entire structure to escape, agent 3 gets brainwashed, they have to fight, yadda yadda. you probably know how it goes by now. But here's the thing.

what if i went ahead and changed a tiny thing. just the teensiest detail.

what if instead of spamming splashdowns, tartar decides to use one big fuck off booyah bomb.

"but, didn't booyah bomb come out after octo expansion?"

yes. yes it did. and that's why i chose booyah bomb specifically.

tartar whipped out the idea to use a booyah bomb from some prototypes it found out about after abducting god-knows-who, and used it despite its unstable build. No one, at that moment, knew whatever that was, what it did, how dangerous it was, or anything of the sort. This was some sort of last hurrah, as it knew that this was its last shot at stopping this failure from escaping the facility. And so it exerted Agent 3 into giving it everything he's got. Quite literally, even! It pushed him so hard, he too became unstable while trying to mantain and boost the energy ball.

The Booyah Bomb is thrown with as much power as Tartar could muster out of that creature, pretty much covering most of the arena. Once the ink settles, and Agent 8 gathers his senses, he looks around. Agent 3 is nowhere to be seen.

at no point in canon is sanitized agent 3 properly splatted throughout the fight — you only break their shield, they superjump back to their platform, and you eventually knock them out. you never splat them. so who's to say that, just like agent 8 during the ascent, they don't have a respawn anchor?

That's what I decided to play with here. Agent 3 is splatted with no respawn anchor. Agent 3 is dead.

The rest of octo expansion plays as normal, only that there's no passed out Agent 3 waiting at the helicopter.

Starting from here, Agent 8 becomes affiliated with the NSS through Cuttlefish after breaking the news, feeling like he needs to make it up for the loss they suffered as he feels responsible for it. He grows closer with Agent 4, and eventually they become closer friends, even staying at her place after she invited him once their friendship was more developed. This paragraph is mostly to explain how they know each other and how their friendship started, also explaining why my Agent 8 gives OtH Agent 4's number instead of Cuttlefish.

Okay! Now, back to the point of this ask. I actually had a bit of this typed out in a server I'm in!

[Agent 4] didn't really have a choice when it came to becoming Captain, being the fifth longest-standing member of the NSS after craig, the squisters and agent 3. craig was retiring, the squid sisters were still busy with their inkopolis celebrity scene, and [Agent 3] was dead. so she was the next best option.

she didnt really ask for this in the first place, and yet she accepted out of hopes of being acknowledged. When she was just an agent, the rest of the team didn't keep in touch with her much (except for Agent 8) after the events of OE, and at one point even stopped being called for whenever Callie got the shades on again. Whenever she patrolled, she did it without any previous call, and was rarely acknowledged by the others. She still kept visiting the canyon whenever she could after everyone else had moved on.

even after becoming the "captain", the others didnt usually reach out to her for assistance, and instead tended to act on their own. they never really took her as captain, rarely listening to her. so obviously this whole mess made her feel like absolute dogshit, questioning why she even decided to go through with this.

that title was meant for [Agent 3]. not for her. he was the one that came before her, and was better than her in so many ways. at least that's what the others kept repeating around her.

as much of a punch in the gut being constantly compared to someone else was, she kept pushing to try and make herself known, separate from the other's achievements. which is why she ended up accepting marina's request.

[writingduhh]

HIII ok so can you write a sfw fic where reader feels like she can’t properly show her love to Isaac? Like she gets awkward and shy whenever he compliments her and she feels bad for it? SORRY IF THAT DIDNT MAKE SENSE 😭❤️

I TOTALLY GET WHAT YOU MEAN DONT EVEN APOLOGIZE 😤😤❤️ Hope you enjoyyy

Isaacwhy || Shy Love

Isaac had a way of making everything seem brighter. His smile was infectious, his laugh could light up a room, and his kind words always made you feel special. But every time he complimented you, you felt a rush of shyness that left you fumbling for words, unable to express how much you appreciated him.

You had met at a mutual friend's party, and from that moment, you and Isaac had been inseparable. He was charismatic and outgoing, while you were quieter, more reserved. Despite your differences, there was an undeniable chemistry between the two of you. Isaac never missed a chance to tell you how beautiful you were, how much he adored your laugh, or how lucky he felt to have you in his life.

Yet, every time he showered you with compliments, you would blush furiously, mind scrambling for the right thing to say. It wasn't that you didn't appreciate his words—you cherished them more than he knew—but you felt this intense pressure to respond perfectly, to show him that you felt the same way. And you always felt like you failed.

One evening, you were sitting on your couch, watching a movie. Isaac had his arm around you, and you nestled comfortably against his side. He turned to you during a quiet moment in the film and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

"You know, you're the most amazing person I've ever met," he said softly, his eyes full of sincerity.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt your face heat up. "I... um, thank you," you mumbled, cursing yourself for not finding a better response. Your mind raced, trying to find the words to express how much he meant to you, but all you could manage was a shy smile.

Isaac chuckled, a gentle sound that only made you feel more embarrassed. "Why do you always get so shy when I compliment you?" he asked, his tone light and curious.

You bit your lip, feeling the familiar knot of anxiety in your stomach. "I don't know," you admitted quietly. "I guess I just... I don't know how to respond. I feel like I can't show you how much I care about you properly."

Isaac's expression softened, and he took your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Hey, you don't need to worry about that," he said gently. "I know you care about me. You don't have to say anything special or do anything grand. Just being with you is enough."

You looked down at your intertwined hands, feeling a mix of relief and guilt. "I just... I feel bad. Like I'm not good enough at showing you how much you mean to me."

Isaac tilted your chin up so you were looking into his eyes. "You have absolutely nothing to apologize for," he said firmly. "I love you for who you are, not for how you respond to my compliments. Your presence, your kindness, your smile—those are the things that matter to me."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you nodded, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "I love you too, Isaac," you whispered, finally finding the words that had eluded you for so long.

Isaac's face lit up with a smile, and he pulled you into a warm embrace. "That's all I need to hear," he murmured into your hair. "Just knowing that you feel the same way makes me the happiest guy in the world."

You hugged him tightly, feeling a sense of peace and happiness that you hadn't felt in a long time. In that moment, you realized that love wasn't about saying the right things or doing the right things. It was about being there for each other, accepting each other, and knowing that, no matter what, you were enough just as you were. And with Isaac, you felt more than enough.

[soggyriceee]

Helping Hand | dbf!Captain Price

summary: after your parents argue again, you walk over to your neighbors house who, you've had relations with in the past. true feelings are brought up be end in the most romantic way, loooooong back story but I feel like that makes the smut part of it so much better

warnings: dbf!Price, female!reader, age gap (reader 22, Price 45), unprotected P in V, fingering, daddy kink (bc hes daddy)

another restless night. your mom screaming at your dad for being at the bar late at night, him screaming back that he needed the break. "I work 60 hours a week!" he'd yell. "you are never home for dinner, barely make it to your kids important days!" she'd yell back, sometimes throwing a pan at him. it was bad. and you'd have to hear it every other night. your brothers drinking was no help either. family arguments were common, no matter how much you tried to avoid them. your mom would burst into your room, telling you to take her side, your father having the same idea.

"can you guys please stop I have exams tomorrow." you remember telling them, trying your hardest to focus on the notes in front of you. it was 12 in the morning. they were all supposed to be asleep. but of course, your dad stumbled in drunkly, waking up your mom and brother. it was peaceful in the house until it wasn't. thats why you'd often saunter over to your neighbor, John, to get some sleep.

"of course kid, you never have to ask." he always told you, smiling down as he opened the door wide. his wife was always delighted to have you over, she saw you as one of her own seeing as they never had kids. John was too busy with the military, kids was never truly an option for him. but he never saw you as his own, as his kid. he saw you as a woman. a woman who caught his eye the second she moved in next door two years ago.

your family had moved next door so it was closer to your college, but also to your fathers job. and Price and his wife were very quick to welcome you all into the neighborhood. they were the first people who invited you to their cookouts, parties. anything. your father had grown so close to Price, it was like they were brothers. and thats what made Price's feelings towards you even more conflicted and morally wrong. he knew he couldn't pursue you. he was significantly older than you, married and friends with your father. there were a surplus of negatives rather than positives and he was not willing to risk anything.

but when the summer time hit, and you'd slide into his pool, the pink or white bikini latching to your skin, he couldn't help but excuse himself up to his room and fuck into his fist, moaning your name into his hand. and what was the worst part about it all, he didnt care about what his wife would think. he cared what you'd think.

his marriage was falling apart quickly. his wife was very passionate about having kids, even though she was 40. "please, at least before im dried up for good." she'd beg him. but he wouldn't budge. kids was not something he wanted to have, ever. and because of that arguments were not a foreign thing for the two of them. so, it wasn't that you were young. or maybe it was. but it was because you would give him a new sense of life, a breath of fresh air away from arguments and constant stress.

the first night you had come to his home, tears falling from your cheeks, he was instantly worried. he pulled you into the house, pulling you into his chest. his wife came out quickly, gaping at your disheveled look. "oh my.. what happened my dear?" she ask, dropping the cup of tea in hand and running to hug you alongside John.

from that night on you made it routine to come sleep over in their house, whenever you needed. they even gave you a key. you felt more at home with them than you did at your home. they let you decorate the guest room into your own, took you out on small little events. it gave John's wife a sense of motherhood, one that she wanted for years.

so, when you and Price were in your room together, making out passionately, his hand gripping your boobs, your hands tangled in his hair, it didnt strike her as odd when she walked in to see you both on your bed. "she was having a hard time in school.. English test, right?" John said to her, quick to have an excuse. you nodded, swallowing hard. "y-yea I just.. needed to vent." you said, looking at her.

that was a month ago of course, she had believed you both. but that was the last time you and Price had ever really done anything of sorts again. and that was the last time you had been to their house. the feelings, tension between you both was too much and you both knew, that you wouldn't be able to make the right decisions if you both were alone together again.

but things were getting hard again and you needed to escape home. another family fight, this time about your father bringing up another woman's name during sex. it was disturbing, gross and uncomfortable for you to be around. but the screaming, breaking glass. it was not something you wanted to spend your summer night listening to.

looking out the window, you bit your bottom lip before making the final decision to sneak out and head over to your home. your real home. grabbing your phone, laptop and AirPods, you made your way out the window, landing on the mini roof in front of your window and slowly, climbing down to where the floor was. silently, you made your way across your lawn and over to Mr. Price's, looking at all the new flowers his wife had recently grown. a part of you felt guilt, selfish even for coming into their home, knowing what had happened between you and Price a few weeks ago. but you needed peace. you needed him.

knocking on the door, you crossed your arms behind your back, waiting anxiously for the door to open. a few seconds after, the door slowly opened, revealing a disheveled looking Price. his face was bright red, lips glossy. he had no shirt on, but a grey pair of sweats. a part of you felt embarrassed, but a bigger part of you felt a bit of pain, assuming he was just fucking his wife upstairs. "o-oh.. hey kid." he said, clearing his throat. " hi.. John. I guess this was a bad time but I-"

"no.. no its not." he said quickly, shaking his head. "I-i was just.." he pointed his thumb behind him, maintaining eye contact as he tried to find the words. you gave a small, apologetic smile before turning. but he was faster, gripping your wrist and pulling you back. " stay. please." he whispered, looking down at you, his eyes submissive. you swallowed before looking behind him, seeing an empty bottle of whiskey on the table. "isn't.. Mrs. Pri-" "she's not Mrs anymore.." he cut you off, looking away from you.

you felt guilty for bringing up the topic, even more guilty for thinking he was fucking her upstairs instead of you. his grip on you loosened and he backed away. "you don't have to stay.. but i'm assuming your here cause your parents. and you shouldn't.. be around that. you shouldn't be alone.. and I don't wanna be alone anymore either." he said, his words growing breathless towards the end, his eyes moving back to yours. your heart felt heavy for him. he was struggling for God knows how long alone. you gave him a small nod, his hand taking yours before he pulled you gently inside.

the door closed and you looked around the empty home, dishes and beer cans scattered about. "im sorry for the mess I uh.. its been hard to-" "let me help you." you turned to him, looking up at him. his doe eyes pierced into you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. that was all the confirmation you needed before turning back around, grabbing the empty cans and moving towards the kitchen recycling can. " thank you." you heard him say from the living room. "dont mention it. its a good distraction for me anyways." you said, the memory of your parents fighting coming back to you.

"hey.." he said, somehow coming up behind you. you quickly turned, wiping your eyes quickly and giving him a fake smile. his hands cupped your cheeks, his thumbs wiping the tears. " your here now.. safe." he whispered, keeping his eyes on yours. his lips trailed from your eyes to your lips, then back to your eyes. " John.." you whispered, pulling your head out of his grasp. he cleared his throat, stepping back. you both wanted it, bad. but it was wrong. and you both agreed to it, nonverbally of course, but it was an intuition.

" im sorry." you said softly, looking down to your shoes. "dont apologize. you have done nothing wrong." he said, patting your arm before walking away.

|

the rest of the night you spent in 'your room', reading up the rest of the texts you had for your exams. it was raining pretty hard outside, thundering and lightening. it was peaceful, more peaceful than your home.

stretching, you sat up from your bed and made your way down to the kitchen, hungry. you were sure price was hungry as well so why not make some grilled cheese? as you hummed your way down the hall, you heard what sounded like cries coming from inside John's room. you stopped in your tracks, standing in front of his room. you then heard empty bottles rolling against the floor. sighing, you leaned your head against the door. you didnt know if you should open the door, or stay outside. or just walk away.

but your heart was more powerful than your mind and you couldnt stop your hand from knocking against the door. "John.. can I come in?" you asked softly. when he stopped sniffling, and all you could hear was the empty bottles, you slowly opened the door. in front of you was John, sitting against his wall, tears running down his face with another bottle of whiskey by his side. he wasn't moving, wasn't blinking. just crying.

you slowly approached him, sitting in front of him. you took the bottle, placing it under his bed, out of sight. " can i.. hold your hand?" you asked, looking at his blank face. when he gave you a soft hum, you reached for his hand, cupping it in both of yours. he felt his breathing go from fast to slow, his hooded eyes making his way to yours. "i'm here John.. you don't have to be alone anymore.." you said softly, scooting closer.

for the next hour John spent crying into your chest, apologizing for being drunk around you. " I-im sorry for.. for this. I know drunk p-people probably make you feel-" "stop. you have a valid reason. I understand. id actually prefer being around drunk you than my drunk father anyways.." you said, running your hands through his hair. he held your waist, sniffling every now and then. he was finally calm, finally at peace. he felt safe in your arms and despite how embarrassing it was to be the older person seeking out comfort from the younger, he knew the last thing you'd do was judge him.

"are you hungry?" you asked, realizing John had been playing with the hem of your shirt for a bit. he looked up, his eyes scanning your lips before meeting your gaze. a soft smile was painted across your face, your hands still in his hair. "im.. im sorry." he whispered. before you could ask him what he meant, his lips pressed against yours, his hand slipping around the side of your neck. he poked your lips with his tongue, asking for permission. and you embarrassingly fast let him in.

he shifted so he was sitting now, pulling you onto his lap. his tongue roamed your mouth, occasionally sucking your tongue and earning a moan from you. when he finally pulled away, a short string of saliva connected you two. heavy pants and the sound of rain was all that could be heard as you both stared at each other, waiting for whats next. just as you opened your mouth, he spoke.

"i.. I know you think its because im drunk. but I promise you.. ive wanted to do that for so long." he whispered, eyes going back to your wet lips. " I dream of it, even when she was here. I couldnt bring myself to not think about you when I kissed her. when I fucked her. when I laid beside her. I know I sound like a horrible person, and I know what im risking here saying this to you. but.. but I have a feeling you feel the same about me.." he said softly, his hands holding your hips in place, hoping and praying you wouldn't run away, never speaking to him again. but you wouldn't do that. because you cared about him too much. you wanted this to happen as much as he did and you weren't going to let this moment slip away.

your hands cupped his face before leaning in again, John accepting the kiss before your lips even met. it was a slow, passionate kiss. he pulled you closer into him, moaning into the kiss when you'd pull at his bottom lip. his hands slowly snaked up your shirt, now holding your waist. "I need you.." you breathed against his lips, eyes still closed. it was desperate of you. but you didn't care. seeing how badly he wanted you made you want him even more. you didn't care if she walked in and saw the two of you, told your parents, the whole neighborhood. you guys could run away, live in a different state, a different country even. you guys could be happy. and as much as you wanted that, you knew the right now, this was the best you'd get.

he slowly pulled you off his lap, standing up before lifting you up. he laid you gently on the bed, resting between your legs. his lips attached to yours again, his hand finding your covered breast immediately. your whimpered into the kiss, thrusting your hips up to feel his hard on. his other hand found the side of your face, holding it as to keep you close. his lips moved down to your jaw, then your neck. he was careful to not make too many marks, especially ones to high up. you whimpered at his teeth nibbling your skin, his tongue sliding slowly across the mark to ease the pain. " ive wanted this.. for so long." he Sid against your skin, his hands working to pull down the pajama pants you had put on a while back.

he threw them behind him, not caring where they end up. he sat up, looking down at your panties. a large wet spot shone threw, a breathy chuckle eliciting from him. "is this all for me baby?" he asked, his fingertips ghosting over the spot. you nodded quickly, bucking your hips up. " use your words darling." he said again, looking up at you this time, his fingers still ghosting over the same spot. "y-yes.. yes daddy." his face formed a bright smile before looking back down at your panties, fingers slipping under the hem and pulling them down. "daddy huh? dont think ive ever been called that." his fingers ran up your slit and stopping right before your clit. you groaned at the teasing, trying to move your hips to meet his fingers.

"patience baby.. daddy wants to take his time with you." he said, chuckling at your desperation. nothing was funny to you, but you wanted him do bad, you'd be willing to do anything he asked of you in this moment. his fingers continued to tease you until he slid one inside you for just a second, before quickly pulling it back out. he loved how fast your cunt clenched around his finger, the surprised gasp leaving your lips when he slid it in, then out. "you like that?" he whispered, watching how your pussy clenched every time his finger got close to your hold again. "yes please.. please do it again." you begged from beneath him, eyes pleading with his distracted ones.

he smiled to himself, adding two fingers in at once this time and watching them completely disappear. your head pressed firmly against the pillow, your eyes squeezing shut. he moved his fingers in and out slowly, then fast, analyzing which pace got you reacting to his touch more. when he found it, he continued with it, his eyes finally moving up to your face. your beautiful face. he felt like he had fallen in love all over, watching your face twist in pleasure. it scared him most certainly. he'd spent what felt like years and years in a somewhat loveless marriage. seeing you, your beautiful face, kind personality and hearing your beautiful voice made him scared. scared that if he did commit to you, you both would end up like his marriage.

but now, he couldnt worry about that. your moans and whimpers were too much of a distraction for him to think about anything serious. he wanted to focus on now, and thats what he did. "feel good baby? is daddy making this pussy feel good?" he asked above you, body completely hovering over you as he tilted his head to the side, looking down at you. you nodded, opening your eyes and gripping his shoulders. "s-so good~" you whined, nodding your head quickly. " good girl. such a good girl for me aren't you? gonna cum on daddy fingers huh? gonna show daddy how good you feel?" he asked, his thumb quick to find your clit and moving at the same pace your fingers were.

no matter how hard you tried to talk, his fingers were doing magic on your lower region. you felt a knot forming at the pit of your stomach, your moans increasing in pitch. " I-im gonna cum" you cried out, pulling him down into your chest and hugging his shoulders. he grunted in your ear, keeping the same continuous pace, whispering how beautiful you were, how hes gonna claim your pussy. how hes gonna gonna make love to you, rather than just fuck you. his genuine words, surprisingly, made you finish, your cum soaking both him and his bed sheets. he gasped, peeking down at your cunt as his fingers slowed in pace, listening to the squelching noises your pussy made for him.

he sat up, looking down at the mess beneath you both. he hadn't realized it, but his fingers kept moving in and out of you. it was like he was in a spell, a spell from your pussy. " j-john" you finally called out, getting his attention. he smiled and slid his fingers out, sliding them in his mouth. he hummed around them, causing you to hide your face in your hands. he was quick, however, to remove them. "dont hide from me. I want you to see how good you taste." he said before pressing his lips back onto yours. your own taste flooded your mouth, your hands tangling back into his hair.

at the same time, he began to pull his sweats down, his dick springing free, slapping against his lower stomach. the sound made you pull away and look down. to say you were nervous was an understatement. but he was quick to shut down any worries you had. "im gonna go slow with you.. I promise." he said, lifting your head. he gave another small smile down at you, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes and smiling. it almost slipped from him, but he held back the ' I love you' as he watched you lean into him. his heart was fluttering and he felt like crying all over. happy tears though. because he was truly in love, an the knew that after this, you'd have to go back home. pretend like what happened never happened. at least in front of people. but he didnt want that. he wanted to show the world you were his and he was yours.

he was so deep in thought again, you had wrapped your legs around him to get his attention. "s-sorry. your just so beautiful" he smiled, kissing your forehead before standing from the bed, pulling his sweats and boxers off completely. he was quick to slide back between your legs, his tip hitting your soaked pussy. he looked down, grabbing the base and moving it around your cunt. "shit your fucking drenched honey." he whispered, watching as strings of your wetness rose from you as he lifted his dick away. you whimpered in embarrassment, a bright pink covering your cheeks.

"its sexy." he said, looking into your eyes. he swallowed before looking back down. "like I said, I wanna make love to you. I don't want this to be just us fucking. i.. I see you more than that." he said, his eyes wandering your body nervously before meeting your gaze. you smiled up at him, pulling him closer so your foreheads touched. " then make love to me John." you whispered, looking at him through your lashes.

his lips pressed onto yours, his hands holding onto your hands as he slowly, and carefully, slid into you. it was easy, considering your slick. but it still hurt, the stretching of your walls around his thickness. the moment you let out a pained whimper he stopped, telling you to tell him when you were ready for more. and it did take a while, but he eventually bottomed out inside your cunt, groaning at the warmth and wetness. his head fell into your neck, catching his breath before he tapped your hips. "are you ready for me love?" he asked into your neck, lifting his head to see your face when you answered. when you nodded, giving him a shy 'yes', his hips moved out, slow, and back in, slow.

at first it hurt. yes, you had small flings in college, and you had definitely told him about them before you figured out how in love with him you were. but never had they meant a lot to you. you are drunk for most of them, causing you to regret not waiting for the right guy which, in this case, would be John. you looked up at him, his bottom lip between his teeth as his browns knitted together. he let out soft grunts with every thrust, a breath after a few more. he looked beautiful, so handsome.

" darling s-stop looking up at me before i.. I finish too soon." he breathed out, looking into your eyes finally. you blushed and looked down to where your bodies connected. the sight alone made you clench around him, a whimper slipping past you. your hands found his neck, your eyes squeezing shut. his thrusts remained pretty slow, causing you to buck your hips up. "faster.. please." you whispered, opening your eyes to see his already on you. "anything for my princess." he responded, kissing your forehead as his thrusts picked up in pace. he wasn't going super fast, but he was going at a decent speed.

whimpers slipped past you with each thrust of his, your head falling back into the pillow. his name, and a few daddy's, slipped past your lips every so often, encouraging him to keep going. " f-fuck princess you're.. you're so tight" he groaned, his breathing picking up in pace. his grunts slowly turned into moans and you had assumed he was close. he took one leg and wrapped it around his waist, allowing deeper access into your cunt. his tip every so slightly hit your cervix, emitting more moans from you.

you hadn't realized it at first, but your nails dug into his back, leaving both crescent marks and scratches. and he fucking loved it. it was your way of marking his body, what was yours. he wanted more. " fuck baby.. mark me. I-im all yours~" he moaned, his head dropping into your chest as his thrusts began to become a bit more fast. he was certainly close, and you were too. " John im gonna cum" you moaned, leg tightening around his waist.

his breathing grew rapid, his head raising to look down at you with hooded eyes. his hands gripped the side of your neck, his other around your hip. he felt his dick pulse inside you, scared of cumming inside you, but also hoping you'd let him. "inside me.. please" you whimpered out, sensing his worry. he gave out a quiet whimper, his eyes squeezing shut.

it was perfect, your bodied moving together. and what made it even more perfect was the fact you both were going to cum, together. it was beyond romantic and made the feelings between you both even stronger. he opened his eyes, feeling as though he couldnt hold back any longer. he didnt know what had came over him, if it was your pussy, the alcohol, or just his emotions, but he couldnt stop the words from flowing out.

" fuck princess I-im cumming- fuck I love you.. oh I fucking..love. you!" he groaned, the last few words accompanied with a powerful thrust. his cum shot into you, a loud groan and a gasp escaping him. his grip on you tightened, his eyes watching as your cum shot out of you as well, mixing with his.

his eyes fluttered closed, his body falling onto you. you looked up at the ceiling, breathing hard as you just recalled what he had admitted to you. 'he loves me..?' you though, your chest feeling heavy, but a good heavy.

he eventually rose up, swallowing as he looked down at you. "I-im sorry im probably still drunk I didnt mean-" your lips slammed against his, discontinuing the sentence he had planned. " I love you to John." you said against his lips. you felt the smile spread across his lips as he moved back down to kiss you, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you into him.

the rest of the night you both spent cuddling, watching tiktoks on your phone. when you eventually dozed off, he placed your phone on the charger, went to use the bathroom one last time before coming back next to you. he pulled you into his chest, spooning you. he kissed your bare shoulders, whispering 'I love you' after each peck. he was happy. he didnt worry too badly about what could happen. he was happy now. and he wanted to stay that way forever.

| aghhh after serious writers block I give you guys this. this was a lot more cute than my other ones so I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I did |

[phr0gg13]

Do Not Wait.

Luke Castellan x Reader

Synopsis: You and Luke have always been close, and so when the guy you trust most in the world decide to backstab the people you call family, you are torn in two. Warnings: Spoilers for the series! Angst, I dont think pronouns were used for the reader! (Please let me know if they were!) this story could be read as platonic or romantic feelings, I was inspired by the song Do Not wait by the Wallows!

It was a cold night when Luke came to see you, almost as if the gods knew what was in store. He had came up to you at dinner and asked to speak in private. You followed him to a secluded spot in the woods of Camp Half-Blood, there was an opening that showed the sun setting. It was like a painting, almost as if Apollo had painstakingly taken the time to think about each stroke of sunlight and how it would hit just right on Lukes face. How the clouds would form to be the most beautiful colors and how it would feel like a movie scene. Your heart was racing as you looked around. It was so pretty here, you and Luke were secluded and you wondered what he wanted to tell you. You were nervous and also excited to hear what the Hermes boy had to say.

"Please don't think I'm crazy when I ask you this (Y/N)...." His hands found your cheeks and he caressed them gently. Almost as if you were made of porcelain. Your heart was racing, thinking of every possible thing he could want to ask you. "Luke, I wont think you are crazy.... What's up?" You replied sweetly. Luke felt a small twinge of regret hit him, but he was already to far gone with his plan.

"Come leave camp with me." The words were like a slap in the face. You let out a small breath of air, the same way you would when someone says a terrible joke. "You're joking right? Why would we leave camp?" You were confused, it didnt make sense. Luke was happy at camp, he had you and Annabeth. He had all his siblings. Why would he want to leave? "Because, (Y/N)," his grip on your face got tighter, it was like he was afraid you would leave, "The gods... They don't care about us. They never have and they never will.".

"Thats why you want to leave camp? Because the gods are selfish and act like gods?" You were in disbelief, "Luke where would we even go? What would we do?". He sighed and looked deep into your eyes "There are people who want to take the gods down, who can provide us with the means to show the gods not to forget us. We can finally speak out against them, do something to stop their childish ways!.". You shook your head, "Who...?"

"Kronos has been visiting me in my dreams, he wants to build an army to fight against the gods. He wants me to help." Luke smiled at you when he said that. It made you sick, you took his hands off your face and looked at him with a hurt expression. "Luke, you can't be serious? We need to tell Chiron and Mr.D about this! If Kronos wants a war... Who knows who else will follow him? How many titans will rise up against the gods? It could be catastrophic, Luke. World ending!!".

Luke shook his head, "We can't tell Chiron, we can't tell anyone. Not yet, Kronos isn't strong enough to fight." You shook your head and looked away, why was this happening. You noticed the sun was almost set, everything was dark and you felt like your heart had been ripped out of your chest. "What about Annabeth?" Your voice broke as tears threatened to leave your eyes. "What about your siblings, your friends?!". Luke sighed, this wasn't how he had planned it going, "They will understand once we tell them. Once we show how strong the army is!." Luke kept going on about how everyone would join him and Kronos. He just kept talking, trying to make you join him. "Luke!".

You looked at him as your tears flowed down your face. "I am not joining you. I can't, this place is my home! These people are my family! I don't care about the gods, I don't need anything from them. I am happy and content with staying at camp.". Lukes expression dropped, it switched from heartbroken to numb in seconds flat. "Fine... But you can't tell anyone my plan. Not yet...". You turned your head and rolled your eyes, about to object to his demand. Yet he had pulled out a sword from a nearby bush, he had planned it all out. Your reflexes kicked in immediately. Quickly you pulled off your bracelet that turned into your sword. A gift from your godly parent. Ready to fight against Luke.

The two of you often trained together and so you both knew how the other fought. Though Luke was still faster and stronger. He also studied your flaws when fighting, he knew how to abuse them. This resulted in him tripping you on the ground. Your sword fell out of your hand and you tried to crawl to grab it, but Luke stepped on your wrist. You cried out in pain, "I'm so sorry (Y/N), but you made me do this..". Luke raised his sword, and for a moment you thought he was going to hit you with his blade. You thought your best friend was going to kill you, yet he maneuvered his sword to where the hilt was pointed at you. He landed a blow to your head and you were out cold. Luke set you up on your back and put his jacket he was wearing over you. He cried, but not because of the choice he made. He cried because of the choice you made. He walked off to go find Percy....

You had woke up with an insane headache, you were warm and in a bed instead of on the cold ground of the forest. You looked around weakly and saw Annabeth and Grover sitting in chairs nearby. You were in the infirmary. You noticed that they were talking to someone else, another person in a bed. One of the campers who was working in the infirmary noticed you were up. They quickly got you some water and asked how you were feeling. You told them about your head and they nodded. You had a concusion... Eventually Chiron and Mr.D came into the infirmary. They started to ask you questions of what happened to you. You told them all you remember and they both looked at eachother. Chiron shook his head, he had a remorseful look on his face.

"Chiron, where is Luke?" You asked as you noticed his jacket on a nearby chair.

"Luke is missing. We assume he is now working with Kronos..."

Your already broken heart was crushed as you heard those words. You are left wondering how long your best friend had truly been gone for.

[pav-ia]

childhood friend pavia x gn reader !

cw :: fluff, threats, slight angst, uuwwwwwh idk

i might write a p2 to this i like how this turned out. this is my most banger post so far

there was a time when you lived in piemonte. youd play with your puppy, a german shepard that was lively and energetic, chasing her around. you were a scrawny little thing, polite and respectful and sweet.

you chased your family dog, giggling as she ran away with the ball. youd made quite some distance from your house, following your dog as he sniffed the ground. she led you to a small house, near the outskirts of town. youd recognized it as the home of a woman who your mother had advised you stay far away from.

“she’ll only make you cry.” your mother said.

“shes not for little kids to talk to.” your father said.

but your doggy was still approaching the house, her nose pressed against the grass. you followed the shepard, your eyes wide with curiosity at getting near the “forbidden” house. your dog stuck her nose into a small window near the base of the house, and you followed suit, kneeling down to observe the hole.

both you and your dog were startled when a little boy stepped into the dim light shining through the window. he was very far down, his neck craning up to look into your eyes. his gaze was unnerving, but you were ever so friendly.

“h-hello..!” you say politely, offering a small wave. you sat down crisscrossed, peering through the small window, down at the boy staring up at you.

“..hello.” he replied curtly. he had brown hair, which looked greasy and unkempt. his shirt was too small for him, but he was still able to fit. you noted how thin he was. “whats his name?”

you were confused by the question, tilting your head and trying to figure out what he meant. sensing your confusion, he pointed to your dog who was seated next to you, patiently watching the boy.

“her name is cleo! shes really nice.” you say enthusiastically. you held a hand out for your dog to shake, and you watched as interest filled the boy’s expression. you smiled brightly, and the boy smiled right back.

from that day on, you would frequently visit the strange basement-boy. you would bring your dog, or youd go alone. you could spend hours chatting with the boy, laying on your stomach as you talked to him. you learned that his name was pavia, he liked animals, he didnt like his aunt, he liked your eyes.

“your eyes are very pretty.” hed tell you frequently, incase youd somehow forgotten how much he admired them.

you would sneak food from your breakfast, your lunch and dinner and you would share it with him because he was extremely skinny. he grew visibly healthier as you had “picnics” — you would call them — bringing many different snacks or meals for him to eat.

on special occasions, your mother brought gelato back from the city. on those days, you would immediately excuse yourself, running to the house with the treat in your hand.

“pavia!” youd call for him. he would emerge from the darkness of the room, under the small patch of light that shone through. “try this!” you stuck your hand down the hole. the contents inside the cup had melted a bit by now, but it was still relatively cold.

he trusted you full heartedly, reaching up to gently take the cup. he brought the spoon to his mouth, and his eyes softly widened at the taste. he held the styrofoam cup with such gentleness, savoring the treat on his tongue. he looked up at you with a soft blush on his cheeks. “what is this?”

“its gelato! do you like it?”

he smiled and nodded.

you had been friends for quite a few years at this point. during this time, he grew less quiet, instead more relaxed and engaged in your conversations. you were a naive kid, but you still managed to pull this reserved boy out of his shell. he frequently talked down on himself, shyly asking you to stay longer with him, but being very hesitant to accept the little gift you offered him. he didnt like himself and he said you shouldnt hang around someone like him, but you didnt really care. slowly, he bantered right back with you. he teased you, telling you he was probably taller than you even if there was no way to measure. he was snarkier, more friendly and less nervous.

you also became less cautious around the house. your comfortable attitude around him led you to forget all about his aunt.

“what do you want?” the woman spat aggressively at you as you walked up the hill that the house was on. your dog growled at her, and you shrunk from her mean visage.

“i-i was just passing by your house to p-picnic on the other side-“ you quickly stutter out, lying so she wouldnt do anything to pavia. you knew that she hated him just as much as he hated her. she didnt buy it, scowling at your barking dog. she kicked cleo, your dog whimpering and hiding behind you, continuing to growl.

“if i ever see you or your dog on my property again, ill make sure your mutt is dead.”

you nodded and left abruptly, your dog following close.

not that that would stop you, however.

that same night, you had a few slices of bread in your pocket, as well as a small jar of jam. even if you two couldnt share the large basket of snacks you had prepared, you still wanted to share something.

“why are you back?” hed asked as you called for him. he was once more hesitant to take the jar of milk you passed, as well as the bread.

“youre my best friend, where else would i be?” you giggled. he was quiet for a while. under the moonlight, you swore that there were eyes watching you from the darkness, nearly glowing that you couldnt have noticed before.

“youre gonna get in trouble.” he mumbled, mouth full of bread. you only laid on your back, your face looking up at the sky full of stars.

“for you? id get in trouble if it meant i could hang out with you more.”

the very next week, there were a number of new faces in your little countryside town. there were many people passing through, on their way to a festival in the big city. lucky you, your father surprised you, telling you that you would be heading with him to the city to view the same film that so many tourists were talking about.

that night, you visited pavia again.

“im leaving town for a little while.” you informed him. you had brought a loaf of bread that you had baked yourself, and butter that you bought from a neighbor.

“how come?” he asked curiously.

“theres a festival that my dad wants to take me to. ill take you to one someday!”

“festival?”

“its like… a show! with lots of people, and different colors and smells.”

“and you would take me one day?” you couldnt see him due to the lack of light from the sky, but you assumed that he had wide eyes like he always did when you told him about new things.

“mhm.”

during your time in venice, you had bought a cheap ring, and bundle of handcrafted postcards. when you snuck back to the house, you were greeted with a wooden board covering the window that he was behind.

“..pavia?”

you didnt get a response. even if you knocked on the planks, he didnt say anything. you knew he was behind there still due to the shuffling from behind, but he didnt say anything back to you. you dropped the cheap ring through the small thin crack between the boards, hearing it clatter against the ground.

you kept talking that night, even without his response.

during the day, you began writing down your thoughts on the postcards youd bought in venice. at night, you kept talking about your day until there was nothing to talk about. you slid the postcards through the planks, even if he couldnt read them in the dark room. you would draw little pictures, write down your meal recipes, really whatever you thought of.

your last letter to him before you moved to the city read:

“come find me in sicily one day? ill be waiting for you! cleo says hi :)” accompanied by a muddy pawprint.

you told him all about the city, all about what you would miss in your little town. you told him that you would be leaving, and that you couldnt wait to talk to him again.

in the city, you brought your dog everywhere. she was an adult now, and you were entering your adult years slowly. you had found yourself a steady job, and you took care of your parents as they took care of you.

another gala came your way, and you dressed up all nice as you brought cleo to the large show of different films and costumes and displays — you noticed that she was unusually interested in something. while usually she followed you without a leash, you brought one due to the sheer amount of people that were at the festival. she tugged on the leash, and you followed her. she eventually began sniffing at a man’s ankles, and you tugged her away. the man turned around curiously as cleo was trying to sniff his pant leg, and you pulled her away, bowing your head in apology.

“sorry, shes not usually this curious.” you quickly said. the man in question was tall and muscular, he had many tattoos and piercings, snakebites under his lips and hair that was white with brown roots. he just smiled, a toothy grin that showed off his sharp canines as he spoke to you in a charming voice.

“no worries, [name].”

at first you were relieved that you avoided an awkward encounter, but blinked in surprise when you processed that he somehow knew your name. you stared at the man, unnerved by his sharp eyes and familiarity.

“your eyes are very pretty, by the way.”

[sun-stricken]

Don’t have to answer if it’s not your style, but headcannons for overprotective dragon slayers to new demon slayer gray?

Random person: you’re all dragon slayers?

Slayers: yeah, why?

Random person points to gray: why’s he here?

Slayers: he’s adopted

anon you have no idea how much i love you for asking this, ive been waiting for an excuse to do this, i am a SLUT for anyone and anything being overprotective of Gray

i don’t believe in canon or timelines so use ur imagination

i like to think of Gray as person practically everybody ends up really liking, and a total cat magnet.

And dragon slayers r just big cats. So Gray already had close friendships with them

so when they realized ‘holy shit hes like us now’ their protective instincts went in overdrive

Natsu, Wendy, & Sting didnt even try to hide it; constantly trying to make sure hes comfortable and felt safe and didnt sit alone confused and scared by all these new things he has to deal with

Natsu definitely drags him onto impromptu jobs and fishing trips with Happy, in an effort to get away from people, or just so they can spend time together, the reason is unclear

i think dragon slayers as a whole are like violently touch starved, and thats what Sting focused on mostly.

he would drape himself over Gray when he felt like the other needed or wanted it but wouldnt ask

it helped Gray get more comfortable for sure

Wendy, as a healer and friend, tried to give him every piece of advice she knew, offering remedy after remedy to help ease him into his now heightened senses

Gray tried to explain to them once that his abilities are fairly different from theirs, yes he has heightened senses, but his instincts and needs were a hell of a lot different than theirs; that only spurred them on more, making them try to research everywhere they could about demon slayers

Rogue & Gajeel were more subtle with it (not by much tho), they understood when needed it quiet, when he just wanted company without the talk

If Gray was having a hard time, whether or not it was bc of his slayer magic, Rogue would offer up Frosch and sit with him, offering silence or white noise. whatever he needed

Gajeel probably thought he was subtle but he absolutely was not, like asking Gray if he wants to run errands with him when places theyre at get too sensorially intense

he tried to ask Levy about everything she knew abt demon slayers without being too obvious, when she kept sending him knowing glances he just asked (very resigned) for some books on the matter.

there was surprisingly little

But he made do and probably studied every piece of literature there was on the matter

The others probably found out and teased him even tho they did the same thing (they also probs asked him to drop a list of books for them)

Now, Laxus really was subtle

telling Gray to go home when he was visibly pushing himself

talking about his new sound canceling headphones and then conveniently leaving them near Gray

or little compliments abt how his new magic is coming along, quiet support type shit

also staring someone down to get them to shut up if they’re being too much

i feel like they turned from ‘one of our own’ protective to overprotective when they realized ppl werent as accepting of demon slayers as they were with dragon slayers

Most ppl exposure to slayer magic is limited to dragon slayers, who refer to themselves as dragons. so when a demon slayer pops up, the correlation isn’t pretty, and their actions are even worse

While Gray understands people must just scared or confused, so he doesnt blame them; he has a hoard of extremely protective dragons who think differently

Wendy had to be physically restrained by multiple people after she heard people calling Gray a monster

Natsu genuinely considered burning alive someone who refused to pay Gray after he finished up a job

Gray definitely now had scary dog privileges, the dog being every single dragon slayer he knows

Laxus zapping people who so much as look at Gray wrong, or frying whatever electronic (ik its lacrimas but work with me) device they have.

or both

Them all hyping up (in their own ways) Grays physical demon features when they start showing up

Post joint guild party at Sabertooth: some guy talking shit abt how Fairy Tail could allow a demon into their ranks, how he is gonna hurt someone. They are now guildless and only eating through a straw and a face not even a mother could love

Someone at an event giving Gray a backhanded compliment and immediately getting death stares mixed with a violent increase of magic in the air that would make the gods shudder

Remember when i said Grays a cat magnet? its not just the dragon slayers who adore him, its their exceeds too

if u asked them to list their favorite people, Gray is in the top 5 for all of them

im stealing another hc from someone and saying Gray fosters cats, and Happy may or may not of gotten jealous once or twice over the pets and scratches that were supposed to be his

If Rogue loses Frosch and Gray happens to be in town 70% they’re probs together

The incorrect quote u put is so canon in this universe btw

Gray “Honorary Dragon Slayer” Fullbuster

i have so many more but neither of us are prepared yet

[slut4evanpeters]

At Least We got Eachother

warren lipka x reader

warnings: nothing really, robbery, slight angst, mention of alcohol

word count: 8.3k

notes: guys im so sorry i finnished it so suddenly😭 i got called into work:( lmk if you want a part two on the aftermath! and and im sorry for ooc waren and how i didnt make the heist exactly like how it is in the movie!

The night air felt thick and heavy, pressing down on your shoulders as you stood in front of the bar’s worn wooden door. You could hear the muffled bass of music inside, the occasional bursts of laughter filtering through. This was the kind of place that could easily be overlooked in the daylight—faded signage, chipped paint, windows clouded from years of cigarette smoke. But by night, it came alive with people looking to escape.

You weren’t sure what you were looking for tonight. Something. Someone. Anything to fill the nagging void in your chest that had been growing for weeks. You hadn’t meant to come here alone. It just happened. Your friends bailed, of course, but something had drawn you here anyway, pulled you in like gravity. Or fate. You weren’t sure.

Pushing the door open, you stepped into the warmth of the bar, the smell of stale beer and cheap whiskey greeting you like an old friend. The crowd was a mix of locals and university kids blowing off steam after a week of classes. Some danced, others sat in groups, but your eyes were drawn immediately to the guy at the far end of the room.

Warren Lipka.

You’d heard about him. Who hadn’t? He was one of those people everyone talked about but no one really knew. Wild rumors circulated like wildfire stories about his outbursts, his reckless bravado, his larger than life personality that seemed to suck everyone into his orbit. You had never gotten close enough to confirm them for yourself.

Tonight was different.

He stood near the pool table, watching the game with a beer dangling loosely from his fingers. Even across the crowded room, you could feel his presence, a tension in the air, the kind that made you hyper-aware of every breath, every pulse in your body.

You knew you should look away, maybe grab a drink and sit at the bar, but you didn’t. Something about him held your gaze. It wasn’t just his looks, though you couldn’t ignore those. The dark eyes that seemed to flicker with mischief, the sharp jawline that could have been carved from stone, the disheveled burnette hair that made him look like he had just rolled out of bed and somehow managed to make it look intentional. No, it was more than that.

It was the sense of danger.

There was something magnetic about him, like a storm building on the horizon. You could feel it in your gut. This was someone who could wreck your life, tear everything apart, and leave you wanting more. Maybe that’s why you couldn’t look away.

Suddenly, as if sensing your gaze, his eyes met yours. His lips quirked up into a slow, dangerous smirk. The kind that made your skin prickle with heat.

Shit.

You looked away, quickly grabbing the nearest drink from the bar. The momentary connection with him had sent your heart racing, a surge of adrenaline kicking in like a warning. This was a bad idea. Warren Lipka was bad news. You had heard the rumours. He was trouble. And yet, part of you felt drawn to it, to him.

A few minutes later, you caught movement out of the corner of your eye. He was walking toward you, slow and deliberate. You took a sip of your drink, pretending not to notice, but the heat of his gaze was impossible to ignore. By the time he reached you, your pulse was thudding in your ears.

“Not from around here, are you?” he asked, his voice low and rough, like gravel under tires.

You glanced up at him, struggling to keep your voice steady. “And you can tell that just by looking?”

Warren chuckled, the sound dark and amused. “Maybe. Or maybe I just notice things most people don’t.”

He leaned against the bar next to you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body, but not so close that it felt invasive. It was intentional, like everything else about him. You could tell he was the type who thrived on control, on pushing buttons to see how people reacted.

“So, what brings you here?” he asked, taking a long pull from his beer. “You don’t seem like the type who comes here often.”

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you wanted to give him anything personal. But there was something in the way he looked at you, something that made you want to play along, if only for a little while.

“Maybe I like trying new things,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe I’m just looking for a good time.”

His eyes flashed with something dark and intense, and for a brief moment, you could see right through the façade. The charm, the cockiness, the swagger. Beneath it all, there was something raw, almost desperate. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced with that smirk again.

“A good time, huh?” He set his beer down on the bar, his gaze never leaving yours. “I think I can help with that.”

You felt a thrill run through you, the words hanging between you like an unspoken promise. This was dangerous. You knew it. But maybe danger was exactly what you were looking for tonight.

Without another word, Warren turned, nodding for you to follow. Against your better judgment, you found yourself moving after him, weaving through the crowd as he led you toward the back of the bar, where the noise faded into the background and the dim lighting cast long shadows on the worn wooden floor.

He stopped in a quiet corner, leaning against the wall, his eyes still locked on yours. “So,” he said, his voice low, “what do you really want?”

You swallowed hard, the weight of his question pressing down on you. You didn’t know how to answer, didn’t know what to say. Because the truth was, you didn’t really know. You just wanted something different. Something real.

“I’m not sure.” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just watched you with that intense gaze. Then, he pushed off the wall, stepping closer, his hand brushing yours as he leaned in.

“You will be.” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

And in that moment, you knew this was a path you couldn’t turn back from. Whatever happened next, you were in it now.

The energy between you and Warren shifted the moment he leaned in, the air between you electric. Every part of you screamed to walk away, to put some distance between yourself and this guy who was clearly trouble, but your body wouldn’t listen. You found yourself stepping closer, drawn in by that storm in his eyes, the darkness behind his smirk.

“I’m not someone you should be messing around with.” he said quietly, almost like a warning. His hand was still just barely brushing against yours, but it was enough to set your nerves alight.

“I think I’ll take my chances.” you replied, surprising yourself with the boldness in your voice.

Warren’s eyes sparked with amusement. “I like that.”

Before you could respond, a voice from across the room called out his name. You both turned to see two guys standing by the pool table, one of them raising a beer in your direction. You recognized one of them. Spencer Reinhard. He was quiet, kept to himself in class, not the kind of guy who usually hung out with someone like Warren. But there he was, eyes flickering between the two of you with a knowing look.

Warren sighed, like he was already bored of the interruption. “Guess I’ll have to catch up with you later.”

The words hung in the air between you, carrying a promise that made your pulse quicken.

You barely had time to react before he was gone, weaving his way back to the pool table like nothing had happened. The cool air of the bar rushed back in to replace the heat of his presence, and you stood there, trying to steady yourself, your heart still racing.

The next few days were a blur. You couldn’t get him out of your head. Warren Lipka. His name alone seemed to carry a weight now, a gravitational pull that kept tugging at the edges of your mind. You told yourself it was ridiculous, that one brief interaction with a guy like him shouldn’t affect you like this. But it did.

A week later, you were sitting in the campus library, a pile of books spread out before you, trying to focus on the paper you were supposed to be writing. It wasn’t working. Your eyes kept drifting toward the window, where the late afternoon sun was casting long shadows across the quiet streets outside. You wondered if you’d see him again.

As if on cue, your phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.

Miss me yet?

Your heart skipped a beat. You stared at the screen for a moment, unsure whether to respond. Before you could overthink it, your fingers typed back.

Depends. Who’s asking?

Seconds later, another text came through.

Look outside.

Your head snapped up. Sure enough, there he was, leaning against a black SUV parked across the street, his phone in his hand and that damn smirk on his face.

You grabbed your stuff, hastily shoving your notebook into your bag as you made your way toward the door. Your heart raced with each step, your pulse thundering in your ears. What were you doing? You barely knew this guy, and yet here you were, leaving your work behind for him.

Warren watched you cross the street, eyes dark and full of mischief. When you reached him, he raised an eyebrow. “Took you long enough.”

“I had to make sure you weren’t some random creep.” you shot back, though the teasing edge in your voice didn’t hide the fact that your nerves were on high alert.

“I’m not random.” he replied smoothly. “But I am a creep. Is that gonna be a problem?”

You huffed a laugh, shaking your head. “Guess I’ll find out.”

He pushed off the car and gestured for you to follow. “Come on, I’ve got something to show you.”

You didn’t ask what. You didn’t want to know—not yet. You weren’t sure if you were ready for answers. You just wanted to feel that rush again, the one that came when you were near him.

The SUV sped down the backroads on the outskirts of town, the windows down and the wind whipping through your hair. The sun was setting, casting everything in a golden glow that made the whole world feel surreal, like you were in some kind of dream. You glanced at Warren, who had one hand on the wheel and the other draped lazily over his lap. He looked like he was in his element, the kind of guy who thrived in moments like this—where the rules didn’t apply and nothing was certain.

“So.” you said, breaking the silence. “Where are we going?”

Warren’s lips curled into that familiar smirk, but he didn’t look over. “Someplace quiet.”

That answer wasn’t exactly reassuring, but the adrenaline coursing through you made it hard to care.

You watched the trees blur by, the road stretching out ahead of you, and realized you had no idea where you were anymore. The town had long since disappeared behind you, swallowed by the sprawling hills and endless fields that surrounded the city. Your stomach flipped as you considered the reality of it—you were alone, in the middle of nowhere, with a guy you barely knew.

But it didn’t feel dangerous. At least, not in the way it should have.

Finally, Warren pulled the car off the road, onto a dirt path that wound its way into a clearing. He parked, killed the engine, and got out. You followed him without question, though your curiosity was growing by the second.

He led you toward a small, rundown building nestled in the trees. It looked abandoned, like it hadn’t seen life in years.

“What is this place?” you asked, glancing around.

“Used to be an old hideout for hunters,” Warren explained, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Now it’s just… quiet.”

You stepped inside, your eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering through the broken windows. Dust coated the surfaces, and the faint scent of earth and wood hung in the air. It was eerie, but there was something strangely peaceful about it, too.

Warren watched you closely, his expression unreadable. “Sometimes I come here to think. To get away from everything.”

You turned to him, surprised by the sudden vulnerability in his voice. “And what are you trying to get away from?”

His eyes flickered, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he moved closer, his hand reaching out to gently brush your hair behind your ear. The touch was soft, almost tender, but there was an edge to it—a tension that made your heart race.

“I don’t think you want to know.” he murmured.

You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening as he closed the distance between you, his body heat radiating against yours. There was a dangerous intensity in his gaze, something wild and uncontained, and you could feel yourself being pulled into it, like a moth to a flame.

“Maybe I do,” you whispered, the words barely escaping your lips.

Warren’s eyes darkened, his hand sliding down your neck, fingers curling against your skin. “You don’t.”

Before you could say anything else, his lips crashed against yours, and all the pent-up tension between you exploded in a surge of heat. His kiss was fierce, almost desperate, like he was trying to lose himself in you, to escape whatever demons were clawing at him from the inside.

You responded without thinking, your hands gripping his shirt as he backed you up against the wall, the rough wood pressing into your spine. His body pressed against yours, and for a moment, the rest of the world fell away. It was just him and you, lost in the chaos of each other.

The days blurred together after that night in the abandoned hideout. You couldn’t stop thinking about Warren. The way he made you feel so alive, the way his touch ignited something wild in you. But it wasn’t just the physical connection that kept you up at night. There was something deeper, something raw and untamed in him that you hadn’t seen in anyone else before. And, despite the warning bells ringing in your head, you couldn’t stay away.

Warren didn’t text you for a few days after that. You figured that was just how he was. Coming and going like the wind, never staying in one place long enough to be tied down. But the pull he had over you was undeniable. It wasn’t just attraction; it was something darker, something that made you crave the chaos he brought with him.

Then, one evening, you got the text.

Meet me at Spencer’s. Tonight. 9 p.m. We’re planning something big.

No details. No context. Just enough to make your stomach flip with a mixture of excitement and dread. You knew something was coming, something that would change everything. And you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly Warren meant by big.

By the time you reached Spencer Reinhard’s house that night, the air was thick with tension. The quiet suburban street was lit only by a few street lamps, casting long shadows across the driveway. Warren’s SUV was parked out front, along with a beat-up old sedan you didn’t recognize.

As you approached the front door, your heart pounded in your chest. You didn’t know what to expect, but you could feel that things were about to take a turn, a dangerous one.

When you stepped inside, the atmosphere was different. The laid-back, college kid vibe that usually surrounded Warren and his friends was gone. In its place was something heavier, more intense.

Spencer was sitting at the dining table, staring down at a blueprint of some kind, his face pale but determined. Two other guys, Eric Borsuk and Chas Allen, you guessed, were sitting across from him, deep in conversation. Warren leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest, watching the scene unfold like a hawk.

The moment his eyes landed on you, that familiar smirk appeared. But this time, there was something more behind it. A challenge. A question.

“You made it.” he said, pushing off the counter and walking toward you. His voice was low, rough, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Yeah.” you replied, your voice steadier than you felt. “What’s this all about?”

He glanced back at the guys before leaning in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “We’re planning a heist.”

The words hit you like a freight train. You blinked, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. “A… what?”

Warren pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. “A heist. The Transylvania University Library. They’ve got some rare books, millions of dollars worth. And we’re gonna take them.”

Your heart raced, a mix of fear and excitement surging through you. This was insane. Completely, utterly insane. But as Warren held your gaze, you could see that he wasn’t joking. He was serious. Dead serious.

“Why?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Warren’s expression darkened. “Why not? People like us don’t get chances like this. We either go big or we’re stuck in this shithole forever.”

You felt the weight of his words, the raw desperation behind them. This wasn’t just about money or some thrill-seeking stunt. This was about proving something—to himself, to the world. He was chasing something bigger, something that went beyond the surface. And you could feel yourself being pulled into it, into him.

Spencer cleared his throat, drawing both of your attention back to the table. “We’re finalizing the plan. If you’re in, you need to know what’s at stake.”

You swallowed hard, the gravity of the situation settling over you like a heavy blanket. This wasn’t a game anymore. This was real.

Warren led you over to the table, where Spencer laid out the blueprints. They showed the layout of the library, detailed with guard schedules, security camera locations, and escape routes. The guys had been planning this for weeks, maybe months, and you could see how meticulously every detail had been considered.

“The librarian is our biggest obstacle,” Spencer explained, his voice calm and measured. “We have to neutralize her without anyone getting hurt.”

Your stomach twisted at the thought of it. This wasn’t some harmless prank. People could get hurt. Lives could be ruined. And yet, the adrenaline coursing through your veins made it hard to walk away.

“Are you in?” Warren asked, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. He was watching you closely, his eyes dark and intense, waiting for your answer.

You hesitated, the weight of the decision pressing down on you. Every rational part of you screamed to say no, to walk away from this madness before it was too late. But then you looked at Warren—really looked at him. Beneath the bravado, beneath the smirk, there was something raw, something vulnerable. He wasn’t just pulling you into this heist. He was pulling you into him, into his world.

And you couldn’t walk away.

“I’m in.” you said, the words slipping out before you could second guess yourself.

Warren’s smirk widened, his eyes flickering with something dangerous and triumphant. “Good.”

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of planning and preparation. You found yourself deeper and deeper in Warren’s world, surrounded by the intensity of the heist. The guys worked relentlessly, mapping out every possible scenario, every potential flaw. The more you saw of their plan, the more you realized just how serious they were. This wasn’t some fantasy. This was happening.

And through it all, the tension between you and Warren continued to build, like a storm gathering on the horizon. Every glance, every touch felt loaded with meaning. It was like you were teetering on the edge of something, and neither of you knew where it would lead.

One night, as you sat in Warren’s SUV after a long day of planning, the tension finally snapped.

The two of you had spent the day running through details, scouting the library from a distance, and discussing escape routes. Now, parked in a dark, empty lot, the reality of what you were doing loomed over you both.

“I don’t know if we’re gonna make it out of this.” Warren said, his voice quieter than usual. His hands rested on the steering wheel, fingers tapping restlessly.

You turned to look at him, the vulnerability in his voice catching you off guard. Warren was always so sure of himself, so in control. Seeing this side of him, this uncertainty, made your chest tighten.

“We will.” you said, reaching over to place your hand on his arm. “We’ve got this.”

Warren looked over at you, his eyes searching yours. For a moment, neither of you said anything. The air between you felt thick, heavy with unspoken words, unexpressed emotions.

And then, without warning, Warren leaned across the center console and kissed you.

It wasn’t like the kiss in the hideout. This was slower, softer, but no less intense. His hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and for a moment, the weight of everything else disappeared. It was just you and him, tangled together in the dark.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath ragged. “I don’t want to lose you.” he whispered, the words so quiet you almost missed them.

“You won’t,” you whispered back, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

But even as you said it, you knew that nothing was certain. Not with this. Not with him.

The night before the heist, the tension was unbearable. The plan was finalized, everyone knew their role, but the weight of what was about to happen hung heavy in the air. The others had gone home to get what little sleep they could, but you found yourself staying behind, lingering in the empty house where you’d all been planning for weeks. Warren hadn’t left either. You weren’t surprised.

He was sitting on the floor in the corner of the living room, back against the wall, eyes closed, a beer bottle hanging loosely from his hand. His mask lay beside him, half-forgotten in the dim light of the single lamp that illuminated the room. You watched him for a moment, your heart racing for reasons you didn’t fully understand. It wasn’t just the heist that had your nerves on edge. It was him. It was always him.

Without saying a word, you crossed the room and sat down next to him, your knees brushing his. Warren opened his eyes and glanced at you, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

“You should be home.” he said, his voice low, rough with exhaustion. “Resting up for tomorrow.”

“So should you.” you countered, leaning your head back against the wall. “But here we are.”

Warren chuckled softly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His gaze drifted toward the ceiling, his expression unreadable. “It’s weird, isn’t it? Knowing everything’s gonna change after tomorrow.”

The way he said it made your stomach twist. You could hear the weight in his voice, the uncertainty. He was always so sure of himself, so unflinching in the face of danger. But now, with the reality of the heist staring him in the face, he seemed… human. Vulnerable.

“Are you scared?” you asked quietly.

Warren didn’t answer right away. He took a sip of his beer, his jaw clenched as if he were trying to hold something back. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. “I don’t know. I guess I’m scared of losing it all.”

You turned to look at him, the words catching you off guard. You’d never seen him like this before, so raw, so open. It was a side of him he didn’t let anyone see, and the fact that he was showing it to you made your heart ache.

“Warren…” you started, but he cut you off.

“I don’t do things halfway,” he said, his voice gaining strength. “This heist, it’s all or nothing. We either win big, or we crash and burn. And I can handle that. But…”

He trailed off, his eyes flicking to you for just a moment before looking away again. The unspoken words hung between you, heavy and full of meaning. You understood what he wasn’t saying. It wasn’t just the heist he was afraid of losing. It was you.

Without thinking, you reached out and took his hand, your fingers lacing through his. Warren tensed for a second, but then he relaxed, his grip tightening around yours. The warmth of his hand against yours sent a spark of electricity through you, and for a moment, everything else faded away—the heist, the danger, the uncertainty. It was just the two of you, sitting together in the dim light, holding on to each other like you were the only thing keeping each other grounded.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you.

Warren finally looked at you, his eyes dark and intense. There was something in them, something vulnerable and fierce all at once, and it made your heart skip a beat. Without a word, he reached up and cupped your face with his free hand, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. The touch was so tender, so unlike the Warren you knew, that it made your breath catch in your throat.

And then, slowly, he leaned in.

This kiss wasn’t like the others. It wasn’t fierce or rushed or driven by adrenaline. It was slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every second of it. His lips were soft against yours, his hand warm against your cheek, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had disappeared. There was no heist, no danger, no uncertainty, just him, and you, and the fire that burned between you.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing heavily, your hearts pounding in unison. Warren’s hand slid down from your cheek to rest on the back of your neck, his thumb tracing lazy circles against your skin.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered, his voice raw, vulnerable in a way you’d never heard before.

“You won’t,” you whispered back, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as if you could somehow hold him closer.

Warren let out a shaky breath, his hand tightening around yours. “After tomorrow… everything changes.”

“Maybe,” you said softly, leaning in to kiss him again, your lips brushing against his. “But not this.”

He kissed you back, more urgently this time, his hand tangling in your hair as he pulled you closer. You could feel the intensity of his emotions in every touch, every kiss—like he was trying to memorize the feel of you, to hold on to this moment before everything came crashing down. And you kissed him back just as fiercely, your heart pounding in your chest, knowing that this might be the last time you had before the storm hit.

The morning of the heist came quickly, too quickly. As the sun rose over the quiet town, a cold knot of fear settled in your stomach. You’d spent most of the night with Warren, your bodies tangled together in a mix of passion and desperation, as if you were both trying to cling to each other before the inevitable chaos. Now, as you stood in front of the mirror, pulling on the dark clothes that had been carefully selected for this moment, the reality of what you were about to do hit you like a freight train.

This wasn’t a game anymore. This wasn’t some fantasy. It was real, and it was happening now.

You met the others outside the library as planned, the early morning air cold and still. Warren was already there, his mask pulled up over his face, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. He was calm, too calm, but you knew him well enough by now to see the tension coiled tightly beneath the surface.

Spencer was visibly nervous, his hands shaking as he checked and rechecked the gear in the back of the van. Chas and Eric exchanged uneasy glances, their usual bravado gone. Everyone felt it—the weight of what you were about to do.

Warren’s hand brushed against yours as he passed, the brief touch sending a surge of electricity through you. You looked over at him, your eyes meeting for a split second, and in that moment, everything else faded away. You didn’t need words. You knew what he was thinking, what he was feeling.

This was it. The point of no return.

The plan was simple in theory. You’d all practiced it a hundred times. But as you moved through the steps, sneaking into the library, avoiding the security cameras, making your way to the rare books lay. It all felt surreal, like you were watching it happen from outside your own body.

Spencer was the first to falter. His hands shook as he tried to unlock the door to the rare books room, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

“Spence,” Warren hissed, his voice low and urgent. “Focus.”

But Spencer couldn’t focus. The pressure was too much, the fear too overwhelming. You could see it in his eyes—the doubt, the panic. And for a moment, you wondered if he was going to bolt, to abandon the plan entirely.

But then Warren stepped forward, placing a firm hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “You can do this,” he whispered, his voice steady, commanding. “We’ve come too far. Don’t back out now.”

Something in Warren’s voice seemed to snap Spencer out of his spiral. His hands stopped shaking, and after a few tense seconds, the lock clicked open. The door swung inward, revealing the dimly lit room where the rare books were housed.

Your heart pounded as you stepped inside, the others close behind you. This was it—the moment of truth.

Here’s the continuation, focusing on the intense drama of the heist as everything begins to spiral out of control.

The heavy door to the rare books creaked open, revealing shelves lined with ancient texts, priceless volumes that could change your lives forever. The dim lighting cast eerie shadows, making the room feel more like a tomb than a treasure trove. The thick air smelled of aged paper and polished wood, the weight of history pressing down on all of you.

Your heart raced, pounding in your ears so loudly that you could barely hear the others as they moved behind you. Warren was at your side, his focus sharp, movements steady. He reached out and gently squeezed your hand, grounding you in the chaos of what was happening. There was a brief flash of that same connection between you, a reminder of the night before, but now it was overshadowed by the reality of what you were doing.

Spencer, shaking but determined, moved toward the glass case at the center of the room, where the most valuable books were stored. The plan was simple—break the glass, grab the books, and get out. But as you watched him struggle to keep his nerves in check, you felt the cold edge of doubt creeping into your thoughts.

Warren’s voice cut through the tense silence. “Spence, now.”

Spencer swallowed hard, nodded, and lifted the heavy crowbar he had been clutching. You could see the beads of sweat forming on his forehead, the fear in his eyes. For a split second, you wondered if he was going to lose it, if he’d freeze. But then he brought the crowbar down on the glass with a loud crack.

The sound echoed in the small room, shattering the silence and sending a jolt of adrenaline through your veins. The glass splintered, falling away in jagged shards, revealing the treasures inside.

Warren was on it in a second, quick and efficient. He carefully reached into the case and began pulling out the books—these rare, priceless pieces of history that would be your ticket to millions. His hands moved with a precision that matched the intensity in his eyes. You knew he had been waiting for this moment, building up to it for months, if not years. And now, it was finally happening.

But just as Warren grabbed the last book, the loud, jarring sound of an alarm pierced the air.

Everyone froze.

It wasn’t supposed to happen. You had planned this meticulously. Spencer had studied the security system inside and out. The alarm shouldn’t have gone off. But there it was, blaring, filling the room with its high-pitched wail and sending a wave of panic through all of you.

“Fuck!” Warren cursed, shoving the book into the bag he had slung over his shoulder. His eyes were wild now, the calm facade cracking under the pressure.

Spencer looked like he was about to be sick, his face pale and drenched in sweat. “I don’t understand… I disabled the system!”

“There’s no time.” Warren snapped, grabbing your arm and pulling you toward the exit. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

Your legs felt like they were moving through water as you followed him, the adrenaline surging through you like a tidal wave. Every step felt heavier than the last, the reality of the situation crashing down around you. The plan was falling apart. You weren’t ready for this.

Behind you, Chas and Eric scrambled to follow, their faces pale with fear. “We need to split up!” Chas yelled, his voice barely audible over the blaring alarm. “We’ll cover more ground!”

Warren hesitated, his hand still gripping yours tightly, his mind racing through options. He looked at you for a split second, and you could see the struggle in his eyes. He wasn’t going to leave you, but he also knew that staying together might get you all caught.

“Go!” you said, pushing him toward the others. “I’ll meet you at the rendezvous point!”

“No way.” Warren said firmly, his jaw clenched. “I’m not leaving you.”

Before you could argue, Spencer’s voice broke through. “We need to move! They’re going to be here any second!”

Warren cursed again under his breath, but finally, he let go of your hand. “Be careful.” he said, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

“I will” you promised, but even as you said it, the fear clawed at the edges of your mind.

You broke off from the others, slipping down a narrow hallway toward the side exit, your footsteps barely audible over the shrieking alarm. Your heart pounded in your chest as you moved quickly, your mind racing. The heist was already going wrong, and you knew it was only a matter of time before the police arrived.

When you reached the side door, your fingers fumbled with the handle, slick with sweat. You were trying to steady your breathing, trying to keep your focus, but the panic was creeping in, making it harder to think clearly. Finally, the door clicked open, and you slipped outside into the cold night air.

The parking lot was eerily quiet compared to the chaos inside the library. The distant wail of sirens echoed in the distance, getting closer by the second. You knew you didn’t have much time, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Not yet.

You looked around, scanning the area for any sign of the others. Where were they? They should have been right behind you. The plan was to split up and meet at the van parked a few blocks away, but something didn’t feel right.

And then you saw him.

Warren was sprinting across the lot, his face hidden behind the mask, his movements fast and purposeful. He was heading straight for you, the intensity in his eyes visible even from a distance. But just as he reached you, the screech of tires filled the air, and a police car came skidding around the corner, its lights flashing in the darkness.

“Shit!” Warren grabbed your arm, pulling you behind a nearby dumpster as the police car barreled toward the entrance of the library.

“We need to move,” he whispered urgently, his breath hot against your ear. “Now.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you nodded, the adrenaline making your legs feel like they were about to give out. But you couldn’t afford to stop, not now. Together, you and Warren darted across the lot, sticking to the shadows as you made your way toward the back alley where the getaway van was supposed to be waiting.

But as you rounded the corner, you froze.

The van was gone.

“Where the fuck are they?” Warren muttered under his breath, his eyes scanning the empty alley with growing frustration. The others had been in charge of the van, but now there was no sign of them. Your stomach dropped as you realized how bad this was.

The sirens grew louder, and you could see more police cars pulling into the lot, their lights flashing like warning signs. The clock was ticking, and the window for escape was closing fast.

“They ditched us.” you whispered, the cold truth settling in.

Warren’s jaw clenched, his expression hardening. “No. We’ll figure it out.”

But you both knew the reality of the situation. Without the van, your chances of getting out clean were slim to none.

Warren grabbed your hand, pulling you down the alley as fast as your legs would carry you. The streets were eerily empty at this hour, and you could hear the distant sound of radios crackling, police coordinating their search.

“We can still make it.” Warren said, more to himself than to you. “There’s another way out.”

You followed him through the maze of backstreets, your pulse pounding in your ears. You didn’t know where you were going, and you weren’t sure if Warren did either, but at this point, all you could do was trust him.

The sounds of sirens grew fainter as you put more distance between yourselves and the library. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your legs burning from the effort of running. Warren kept a firm grip on your hand, pulling you along even when you stumbled, refusing to let you fall behind.

Finally, after what felt like hours of running, Warren led you into a quiet, dark side street. There was no sign of the police, no sign of anyone. For the first time since the alarm had gone off, you allowed yourself to breathe.

Warren stopped, leaning against the wall of a building, his chest heaving with exhaustion. You collapsed beside him, your legs trembling from the adrenaline and fear. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of what had just happened hanging heavily in the air.

“We did it,” you whispered, more to convince yourself than anything.

Warren let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head. “Barely.”

He turned to look at you, his eyes still dark with intensity, but there was something else there too—relief. Relief that you had made it, that you were still together. Without thinking, you reached out and cupped his face in your hands, pulling him toward you.

The kiss was desperate, hungry, like you were trying to reassure each other that you were still alive, still here. Warren’s hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, and for a moment, the world around you disappeared.

When you finally pulled away, both of you breathing heavily, Warren rested his forehead against yours. “We’re not out of this yet.” he whispered, his voice low and rough.

You nodded, your fingers still gripping the fabric of his jacket. “I know.”

But in that moment, it didn’t matter. You had each other, and for now, that was enough.

You and Warren sat in silence, pressed against the cold brick wall of the alley, both of you breathing heavily as the weight of what had just happened sank in. The distant wail of sirens had finally faded, leaving behind an eerie quiet that felt more oppressive than comforting.

Warren’s grip on your hand loosened, and you slowly released him, your heart still racing. The adrenaline that had kept you moving, kept you alive, was starting to drain away, leaving behind an uncomfortable heaviness in your chest. You weren’t sure if it was fear, exhaustion, or something else entirely.

“We have to keep moving,” Warren finally said, his voice rough, but steady. He was trying to stay calm, trying to hold it together, but you could see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. Everything hadn’t gone according to plan, and now you were both left to pick up the pieces.

You nodded, though your legs felt like lead. The weight of the night was catching up with you fast. “Where do we go?”

Warren rubbed a hand over his face, glancing around the darkened street. He looked exhausted, worn down by the panic and chaos that had unfolded back at the library. His shoulders sagged under the weight of everything that had gone wrong.

“We find the others.” he muttered, but there was doubt in his voice.

The truth was sinking in. Chas, Eric, Spencer, they’d left without you. Maybe they’d panicked, maybe they’d thought you’d been caught, or maybe they’d just decided to save their own skins. Whatever the reason, they were gone, and it left a bitter taste in your mouth.

For the first time that night, Warren’s mask slipped completely, and you saw the raw frustration, the anger bubbling beneath the surface. His jaw clenched as he stood up, pacing in front of you. His hands balled into fists, and for a moment, you thought he might punch the nearest wall.

“They were supposed to wait,” he growled, his voice low, barely controlled. “They ditched us.”

You stood up, too, feeling the ache in your legs from all the running. Your body was trembling, a mix of fear, adrenaline, and the realization that everything had fallen apart.

“They were scared,” you said quietly, trying to rationalize it, even though it hurt. “We all were.”

“They were cowards,” Warren shot back, the anger flaring in his voice. “We trusted them. I trusted them.” His hand went to his pocket, where the stolen books were still tucked away, the only physical proof of the heist that had gone horribly wrong.

You stepped closer to him, gently placing a hand on his arm. “But we made it out. We’re still here. Together.”

His eyes met yours, the anger in them softening as he looked at you. For a long moment, he didn’t say anything, his breath coming out in ragged bursts. And then, finally, he exhaled, the tension draining from his body as he slumped back against the wall. “Yeah… together.”

You both stood there in the alley, the cold air biting at your skin, and for the first time since everything went wrong, you allowed yourself to think about what came next. The heist was over, but the consequences were only beginning.

You and Warren had managed to find a place to hide, a dingy motel on the outskirts of town where no one would think to look for you. The room was small and smelled faintly of cigarette smoke, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that you were safe, for now.

Warren sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, the weight of the night finally catching up with him. The stolen books were laid out on the table, still intact, but they felt like a hollow victory. The plan had fallen apart, and you weren’t even sure if the others had made it out safely.

You sat down next to him, not saying anything, just feeling the exhaustion in every fiber of your being. The adrenaline had long since worn off, leaving behind a bone-deep fatigue that was impossible to shake. Your mind kept replaying the events of the night, the moment the alarm went off, the sound of the glass breaking, the van that never came. Every time you closed your eyes, you could still hear the sirens.

“What now?” you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Warren didn’t answer right away. He was staring at the floor, his jaw clenched tight. You could tell he was trying to hold himself together, but there was a crack in his armor, a vulnerability that you hadn’t seen in him before.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and rough. “We get out of town. We lay low until things cool off.”

“And the books?”

Warren’s eyes flicked toward the pile of stolen volumes on the table, but there was no satisfaction in his gaze. “They’re still worth a lot. We can still sell them… eventually.”

Eventually. That was the keyword. You both knew it would be risky to try and move the books now, with the police already on high alert. They’d be looking for whoever had stolen them, and selling them too soon could get you caught.

You leaned back against the headboard, staring up at the ceiling. Your body ached, but it wasn’t just physical. The emotional toll of the heist was sinking in, and you felt like you were unraveling. The fear, the panic, the betrayal from the others. It all weighed heavily on you.

Warren must have sensed it because he reached over, his hand brushing against yours. It was a small gesture, but it was enough to remind you that you weren’t alone in this. Despite everything, you still had each other.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice soft and full of regret.

“For what?”

“For dragging you into this,” Warren replied, his gaze dropping to the floor again. “I thought I had everything figured out, but I didn’t. And now… now you’re stuck in the middle of this mess.”

You turned to him, your heart aching at the pain in his voice. “I made my own choice, Warren. I wanted to be here. With you.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, his eyes dark and full of emotions he couldn’t put into words. There was guilt there, mixed with something deeper, something you hadn’t expected to see.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible.

“You won’t,” you whispered, reaching out to cup his face in your hands. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. The world outside that motel room felt distant, almost unreal, as if the chaos of the night had been nothing more than a bad dream. The only thing that felt real was Waren. His warmth, the steadiness of his breath, the way he was looking at you like you were the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

Without thinking, you leaned in and kissed him, slow and tender. This kiss wasn’t like the ones before, fueled by adrenaline and desperation. This was different, softer, more intimate, like a quiet promise in the aftermath of the storm.

Warren’s hands slid up to your waist, pulling you closer, and for a moment, everything else faded away. The fear, the uncertainty, the heist, it all disappeared, leaving just the two of you in the dimly lit room, holding on to each other like you were the only thing that mattered.

When you finally pulled away, Warren rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

“You’re wrong.” you whispered back, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “We deserve each other.”

Sleep didn’t come easily. Every sound outside the motel, every passing car, every distant voice, made your heart race, the paranoia of getting caught gnawing at you. Warren had drifted into a restless sleep beside you, his arm draped over your waist, but even in sleep, he looked troubled. You knew the weight of everything was crushing him, just as it was crushing you.

You turned to face him, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, the soft rhythm of his breathing. Despite everything that had happened, despite the chaos and the danger, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you belonged here, with him. It wasn’t just the adrenaline or the thrill of the heist that had drawn you to him—it was something deeper, something you couldn’t put into words.

But as you lay there in the dark, the cold reality of your situation settled in. The heist had failed in more ways than one. Even if you had escaped, even if you had the books, the danger was far from over. The police would be looking for you. The others had vanished, and you had no way of knowing if they’d been caught, or if they’d turn on you to save themselves.

You glanced at the stolen books on the table, their spines gleaming in the faint light of the motel lamp. They were supposed to be your ticket to freedom, your way out. But now, they felt more like a curse.

As you lay there, Warren stirred beside you, his hand tightening around your waist as if he sensed your unease. His eyes fluttered open, and he looked at you, his expression soft but filled with the same weight of everything that had happened.

“We’ll be okay,” he whispered, though you could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

You didn’t answer right away, because you weren’t sure if he was right. But as you lay there, wrapped in his arms, you knew that whatever came next, you’d face it together.

And for now, that was enough.

tags!- @marchsfreakshow

[spacexseven]

Trying to find the post I originally saw it from would take too long and plus the person who made it didn't go into detail they just said "reader with a God ability" like I'm guessing an ability that makes you God or something? I'm not too sure but if you want you can try to make it into something

But I REALLY wanted to know how would Fyodor would react because you know the story with him and god

basically reader is a kind of (forgotten) god but i didnt go too much into it so feel free to imagine whatever you'd like ^^

cw: yandere character

sometimes it occurred to you that divinity, in a world of gifted people, was ultimately meaningless. after all, who would choose to believe in a god—a presence so unclear and foreign—when they had people with powers only gods could have? when there were people with powers that defied logic, powers that decimated cities, and powers that could change the fate of the one affected within moments, what did your divinity matter?

what could you do that some ability user out there couldn't?

despite knowing there wasn't anything you could offer to regular people, you liked to walk down their streets and watch them go on about their day. there was something captivating about their lives, something that resembled what you had lost a long time ago. though in this bleak part of yokohama, most of the people you saw seemed to be weighed down by regret.

once in a while, you'd see some spectacular show of power—paper turning into a weapon, accidental deaths that you knew were not supposed to happen, people on the brink of death brought back to life in perfect health—such things did not amaze you as much as they worried you. maybe that worry came from a place of inadequacy, knowing that your own powers, while typical for a divine being, was overall unimpressive compared to these wonderful and terrifying feats.

however, the worry and the shame did not compare to the delight that followed when talking to someone. you felt alone, isolated by the things you knew and had seen as compared to the mundane lives most people lived, yet you yearned for company. most people were too busy to talk to you when they saw you seated alone, and some were put off by the strange feeling that something about you was not exactly human, but there was always someone who'd approach you first, and those people were almost always the ones that stuck with you the longest. years ago, it was a man wearing a hat and holding a cane, and more recently, a woman with red hair.

and now, it was this man with dark hair and amethyst eyes.

the very moment fyodor uttered his first words to you, you could already tell that he was unlike anyone else you had talked to before. there was something about him that was simultaneously alluring and unsettling, something that glinted in his dark eyes that told you that he knew everything you were trying to hide. even the way he held your hand in his felt like he was trying to sense something from you. still, his expression did not change—calmness evident in his face when yours was definitely teeming with intrigue. it should have embarrassed you that a human was better than you at controlling his emotions.

but there was something unusual about fyodor—the way he carried himself, the contrast between his sharp gaze and sleepy smile, the words he spoke—you could already tell that he was someone destined for great destruction. (or maybe, he was destined to be the harbinger of destruction?) he spoke to you like you were an old friend, someone he had known all his life, not finding any unease in slipping into deep conversation. his voice was soft, but each word felt purposeful.

and then, he mentioned his belief in god.

"what does a god matter," you finally asked the question that had been plaguing you for all this time, "in a world of people that are treated as gods?"

he smiled at you then, like he had been expecting it, "that is simply a result of the follies of man. isn't it disgraceful that they think of themselves as gods?"

"but what can a god do for you that some ability user out there can't?"

"what i sought, what i received, was guidance," he whispered, "my eyes were opened to the truth, and i realized my purpose. ability users parade themselves as gifted, special, but they only bring misfortune."

your heart wavered then, for the man in front of you. you never believed that ability users were blessed, or whatever some groups liked to say. in some cases, it appeared to be more of a curse than a blessing. something unwanted. was he haunted by himself as well? before you could stop yourself, your next words leaped out of your mouth, revealing your identity and subsequently confirming his suspicions.

"if so, what does that make you?"

he smiled then, wider than before. the very sight sent chills down your spine, even though very little still scared you now. he straightened up, clasping your hands within his with a newly gained fervor, with more strength than he appeared to have.

"a sinner seeking repentance from you."

you exhaled sharply, but he wasn't finished, "i know now for sure that this is the right path, and under your guidance, i will deliver your judgment, and i will reinstate you to your former glory."

danger was easy to miss when it looked like fyodor dostoevsky, and it was too late for you now. realization dawned on you a moment too late, as tendrils of consciousness slipped away from you.

among the ghosts of yokohama, fyodor was the harbinger of great destruction. and his reign of terror would start with yours.

[scrollonso]

okay. expanding on strollini >-<

-they first met when luca went to the canadian gp 2017 (he was just planning on going to the italian gp but then vale was invited by monster/mercedes so he came along)

-lance scored his first points and luca (in an attempt to be away from vale and people that knew him as vale's brother) ran into lance and congratulated him and they hit it off right away

-later that season he went to the italian gp and again, lance scored points so the canadian joked that luca was his lucky charm

-they got super close super fast (nepo baby bond)

-after the last race of the season lance went back to italy to spend most of the break with luca

-they had just finished dinner and were now walking back to luca's apartment when he randomly asked "be my boyfriend?"

-it was very embarrassing and he was like "nonono im joking like- not really. unless you want to be my boyfriend then like sure but i don't..." and (for once) lance was super calm and just kissed him 😸

-luca became a VERY public lance supporter and was constantly posting pictures of their "friend dates"

-both luca and lance became very well known in the formula/moto world because of eachother

-during the 2018 italian gp lance got in the points again, after this it became a tradition to, no matter the result, spend the night together in italy after the races

-pecco found out about lance and luca first, walking in on them cuddled up together after the moto2 italian gp (that race is like their little thing)

-luca was scared to tell vale for the first like two years of their relationship (though vale had an idea of what was going on) because after vale and marc broke up vale had some very not so nice things to say about marc that werent very nice about him being gay (vale ur gay too..) so luca was convinced he was homophobic

-cele figured it out himself and never told anyone he knew because he didnt care that much

-bez found out in 2020 when they were teammates, it was literally just because he was too stupid to realize "oh they arent just kinda gay best friends theyre like in love"

-vale found out one of the first times lance went to the ranch because luca ended up having a minor crash and lance took him away to tend to his wounds. vale followed a little later and heard lance comforting a crying luca, constantly telling him how much he loves him and how its all going to be okay and he was like "yeah maybe they are gay"

-that night he talked to luca and reassured him everything was fine and vale loved lance because he could tell how happy he made luca

-the rest of the academy boys gradually found out and the more they thought abt it the more it made sense

-lance ended up moving in with luca in late 2019 and was determined to become fluent in italian for his boyfriend (who was already decent with french for him)

-they were first seen (romantically) together at the portugal gp 2021 (lance was there supporting luca then 2 weeks later luca was there supporting lance)

uh and thats all i got rn.