#Nightmare REALLY thought he scared Dust away | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

merthosus · 3 months ago

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Blank minds

@selfishlittlebeing asked:

Hi! So basically I just read every single one shot on this blog. And I am obsessed with your work. And I gotta admit that, “Wounded nights” did things to me.🧍🏼‍♀️

I’m not sure if I am requesting or smth (if you’d like to write this I wouldn’t protest, but feel free to just ponder on this with me). But like… I can’t get the image of touch starved Five out of my head. Bcs…damn. Him holding the reader in his arms like that (WN)… but can you imagine HIM having a vulnerable moment because of all that stuff with the Commission and apocalypses, just the trauma package yk. And after all those years…just Five being vulnerable with someone and touch starved.🥲 I am making myself feel depressed with all this. Wanna be depressed with me?🎀

Summary: After Luthers wedding, most of the siblings already gone to bed. You didn't feel like drinking, but loved to watch the others drown their sorrows into liquor and just have fun. Just as you were about to fall into a deep sleep, a knock on your door pulls you out of your slumber.

Thank you for your lovely request! Also, here a sexy poster from Five I fell in love with! With every purchase you automatically support me :) https://amzn.to/3yGK6Fm

“Since everything will be dust soon anyway, you won't mind if I just lie down here for a while, will you?”

You're up to your nose under your eiderdown, with only the sound of collapsing buildings coming through your window. It may sound crazy to others, but for you, it's been part of everyday life for a week. Counting every second, spending the last time with your family and savoring it. There is nothing more precious than time. Money has no value anymore, but the ticking hands of the grandfather clock do have.

Your thoughts hover over your head like gray clouds. Since the first day you slept in that hotel bed, falling asleep felt like hell. You tried a lot to finally fall asleep normally again. But every time you closed your eyes, you were met with nightmares, worse than you could ever have imagined. You were sure that this couldn't be the end, it simply couldn't be.

Like every night, you try to push the thoughts aside, to repress them as if they had never been there. But a loud and uneven knocking jolts you out of your sleep like a thunderstorm. You startle awake and clutch at the sheets of your bed. “Yes!” you shout, but it sounded more like a question than an encouragement. You watch every movement, sharper than Diego's blades. As Five stumbles in, you let out a breath you didn't even released you were holding.

“You scared me,” you mumble. "I scared you, so please, why should anyone be scared of me?" he says to himself. Any blind person would have recognized that Five had probably had a little too much to drink at Luther's wedding. Five doesn't finish the sentence and drops his head down as he continues to mumble to himself. After he fell back against the door, you gave him a worried look. “Thanks for closing the door, but I think you have a concussion now,” I smirk to myself. Five starts to giggle. “The world is coming to an end,” he says, and pushes away from the door again.

You look out of the window that separated you from the crumbling outside world. Instead of bright sunshine, dark red fire dazzles your eyes, bricks fly off buildings and trees uproot themselves. “No, really?” you ask him sarcastically as you turn back to him. You suppress your horror as he suddenly stands right in front of you. He holds on to the edge of your bed. You think about how he managed to approach you so quietly, the alcohol in his blood must be enough to put a chimpanzee down.

“Since everything will be dust soon anyway, you won't mind if I just lie down here for a while, will you?” he asks as he tries to climb onto the bed. “Five, eh?” you ask as you hold him down so he doesn't slide off. He awkwardly pushes himself over your legs, which elicits a small squeak from your mouth. “You're really rough, Five,” you complain, but you just couldn't help the smile on your face.

You had never seen Five so shameless. Five, who is usually so strong and independent, asks you if he can lie down with you for a moment. As you think about it for a moment, you briefly doubt your sanity. Was this a fever dream? But Five's careless hand movement presses your torso so hard into the mattress beneath you that you're sure it would have shaken you awake. “I've never seen you so awkward,” you squeeze your words out of the pain. “I'm sorry, but your bed is sooo soft,” he lulls to himself. You shake your head and stifle the comment that the beds here were all the same.

“Five, why are you really here?” you ask him. He lies down on his stomach and presses his head into your pillow. He mumbles his words into the fabric so that you can only guess what he's saying. “I don't understand a word, you stupid…” you grumble to yourself as you grab a tuft of his hair and push his head to the side.

Five groans softly as you move his head, his eyes half-lidded and unfocused. You wait for him to speak, but it seems like he’s struggling to find the right words. He’s always been the one with the sharp tongue, the quick wit, and seeing him like this—vulnerable and slightly lost—pulls at something deep inside you.

“I didn’t want to be alone,” he finally mutters, his voice slurred but honest. “I’ve been alone for so long... and I guess I’m tired of it.” His words are a confession, raw and unguarded, much like the state he's in now. You’ve seen Five in many situations—fighting, strategizing, leading—but this is different. This is Five without his armor, without the walls he usually keeps so firmly in place.

You feel a pang in your chest, a mix of sadness and empathy. You’ve always known there was more to him than the ruthless time-traveling assassin he often portrayed himself to be. But hearing him admit his loneliness is something else entirely. "I understand you, Five," you say. He smiles and sightly closes his eyes. "I didn't want to be alone too, so I am happy that you are here now, I would've preferred sober Five, but this is also ok", you smile at him.

You let your body fall back into your pillows, Five, who was still lying on his stomach, watching you. You put your head to one side and just look at him motionlessly. “Promise you won't tell anyone about the following?” he asks you. You don't understand exactly what he means. “I hardly think I have enough time left to tell anyone anything,” you say, with an unintentional sweep of sadness. “Promise” he whispers to you, while looking at you with begging eyes. Not only the pungent smell of alcohol, but also his seriousness to fly in your face. “I won't tell anyone,” you promise. Without warning, Five starts to move again. He pushed your arm up and curled up on your chest, like a cat looking for warmth.

Seeing five like this was new and made you very afraid to admit it to yourself. He cared so much about maintaining his strong, unbreakable personality that his current behavior frightened you. Despite the unfamiliar feeling of five so close to you, you almost automatically put your arms around his slender torso. His fingers slide onto the sides of your torso, clutching on it as if it was a matter of life or death.

"Five, what's wrong?", you ask him. "I am fucking scared", he lulls. His confession hangs in the air, heavy with the weight of his vulnerability. You can feel your heart rate quicken, the tension in the room shifting as you process his words. It’s a rare glimpse into the inner workings of Five’s mind, and the openness is both unsettling and intimate.

“Scared of what exactly?” you ask gently. “Everything,” he replies, his voice barely above a whisper. “The end of it all… the not knowing". The tremor in his voice sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but tighten your hold on him. You want to reassure him, to tell him that everything will be okay, but the truth is you’re scared too. The world outside is crumbling, and the future feels uncertain for both of you.

He shifts slightly, looking up at you with his tired eyes. “I don’t want to let anyone down. Not you, not the others. I’ve messed up so many times already.” His voice is tinged with a mix of regret and fear, and you can see the conflict waging within him. “If we lose, at least we'll lose together,” you say. It didn't really sound encouraging, but you couldn't think of anything better. “Do you think you'll regret this tomorrow?” you whisper without looking at him.

Five’s grip on your chest tightens just a little, and you can feel the slight shivering in his body as he processes your words. The silence that follows feels heavy, filled with the weight of the world outside and the vulnerability between you. “No,” he finally murmurs, his voice soft but resolute. “I won’t regret this. I might not remember every detail of tonight, but I’ll remember the way it felt to finally....", you wait for him to end his sentence.

"feel you", he says, so quietly that you almost missed it.. There is a silence in the room, your body is no longer able to move. Your brain needs some time to process his words. “I went too far, I'm sorry I…” he tries to apologize. He pushes away from your body and leans on his arms. But before he can finish his sentence and move away from you completely, you put your hands around his face and crash your lips into his.

The moment your lips meet Five’s, time seems to suspend itself. The world outside, with its crumbling chaos, fades into the background, leaving just the two of you in this small, intimate bubble. His initial shock quickly melts away, and he responds with a tentative but heartfelt kiss. His lips are soft and warm, and the urgency in his movements gradually transforms into something more tender and searching.

As you pull away slightly, you can see the surprise in his eyes, mingled with a hint of relief and something deeper that he might not fully understand himself. You’re both breathing heavily, the gravity of the moment settling in. “I didn’t want to...,” Five starts to say, but you place a finger gently over his lips, silencing him. “Don’t,” you whisper, your voice barely more than a breath.

“You don’t have to apologize. Not now. Not ever.” Five’s expression softens, and he looks at you with a mixture of awe and vulnerability. “I’ve been so caught up in trying to control everything, in fighting against the end, that I forgot about what really matters. I didn’t realize... I didn’t realize how much I needed this, how much I needed you.”

Feel free to tell me in the comments, what you think :)

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thirtysomethingloser92 · 3 months ago

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Voided

You don’t even remember how this infatuation with Remy LeBeau started, if you’re being honest with yourself. It’s like a slow burn that sneaked up on you—a flame that steadily grew until you could no longer ignore its warmth. Maybe it was bound to happen, living in a wasteland where hope was a scarce commodity, and comfort even rarer. When you’re stuck in a place made for misfits and people who don’t belong anywhere else, you start clinging to whatever fragments of humanity you can find. And Remy, with his charm and his secrets, was one of those fragments.

The days in the wasteland stretched on endlessly, a relentless cycle of survival. You’d leave the makeshift home you’d found with the others, setting out with Remy to scavenge for supplies, to find something—anything—that would make life a little more bearable. Those days were brutal, the kind that wore down your spirit until you felt like there was nothing left but the dust in your lungs and the ache in your bones. But it was in those long, drawn-out hours where the sun seemed to hang forever in a dead sky that you started to see Remy differently.

At first, it was the little things. The way he always seemed to know when to crack a joke, pulling you out of whatever dark thoughts had taken hold. The way he’d notice when you were tired, and without a word, offer to carry the heavier pack or suggest taking a break. It was the way he listened—really listened—when you talked. And you did talk. You talked because the silence was unbearable, a yawning void that threatened to swallow you whole if you let it. If you were left alone with the silence, then you would begin to think. And once you started thinking you weren’t sure if you were able to dig yourself out of where it would lead you.

The silence was your enemy in those moments. It wasn’t just the absence of sound; it was the absence of everything that made you feel alive. It was a reminder of all the things that had been ripped away from you, all the things you couldn’t afford to dwell on for too long. The silence made the wasteland feel even more desolate, more hopeless. It was a void that echoed with your own fears, your own loneliness. So you filled it with words—endless streams of conversation that helped you keep the darkness at bay.

You’d talk about anything and everything, just to keep the silence at arm’s length. Sometimes you’d ramble about the past, about the world before it all went to hell. Other times, you’d speculate about the future, about what might be waiting for you if you ever made it out of this nightmare. And Remy would listen, his red-on-black eyes watching you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. He didn’t interrupt, didn’t judge. He just let you speak, as if your words were the only thing keeping the world from crumbling around you.

Blade had made comments about your constant talking. He’d tease you about it, saying you could fill a library with the stories you told. But even he would admit that when you weren’t there, the world seemed too loud, too empty. Without your voice to fill the gaps, the silence became oppressive, a weight that pressed down on all of you. In a way, your words were a lifeline, a thread that kept the group tethered to some semblance of normalcy.

But it was different with Remy. With him, your words felt less like a defense mechanism and more like a connection—a fragile, tentative connection that you were scared to acknowledge, let alone embrace. Because acknowledging it meant admitting that you were vulnerable, that you cared more than you should in a place like this. And caring was dangerous. Caring was a weakness you couldn’t afford. But as much as you tried to push those feelings down, they kept bubbling up, impossible to ignore. You were scared of the ‘what ifs’. The ‘what ifs’ are what got you pruned to the void to begin with.

At first, it was just the small things—how his voice carried a hint of warmth, even on the coldest of nights when the wind cut through your layers like a knife. It was the way he always seemed to know exactly when to crack a joke, the kind that could slice through the oppressive atmosphere that clung to your group like a shroud. His humor was a balm, a brief escape from the grim reality that surrounded you. And then there were those crimson eyes, always watching, always knowing, like he could see right through you. It was as if those eyes peeled back every layer you’d so carefully built, stripping you down to your raw, exposed soul.

And it scared the shit out of you.

You weren’t used to being seen like that, to being understood with just a glance. You had always been the one to deflect, to joke, to talk and talk until there was nothing left to say. Words had always been your armor, your way of creating distance between yourself and the world outside. But Remy didn’t need words. He didn’t need the noise. He was content to exist in the spaces between, in the quiet moments that seemed to stretch out forever when it was just the two of you. Those moments were where he thrived, where he seemed to understand you in ways you didn’t even understand yourself. There were moments when you’d catch yourself staring at him, wondering what it would be like if things were different. If the world hadn’t fallen apart, if you were just two people getting to know each other under normal circumstances. You’d wonder if he ever thought about you the way you thought about him, if he noticed the way your breath hitched when he stood too close, or the way your heart raced whenever he smiled that mischievous grin of his.

But then the reality of it all would crash back down on you, reminding you that this was no place for fantasies or daydreams. This was a place where every day was a fight for survival, where attachments could get you killed. And so you’d bury those feelings deep, hiding them behind the endless stream of words that spilled from your lips, hoping that maybe, one day, you’d find the courage to let them out.

But Remy, he never complained. Not once. It didn’t seem to matter how much you rambled, how often you let your thoughts spill out in a desperate attempt to drown out the crushing weight of the world. He’d just flash that trademark grin of his, the one that could disarm even the most guarded heart, and let you keep going. That grin—God, that grin—was like a lifeline, pulling you back from the edge every time the darkness threatened to close in. It was a smile that promised safety, even when safety was nothing more than a fleeting illusion in this desolate place.

Sometimes, in the middle of your rambling, he’d throw in a sly comment, something quick and clever that would catch you off guard and make you laugh—a real laugh, the kind that felt foreign and strange in your throat, almost like you’d forgotten how. And for a moment, just a brief, precious moment, the heaviness of the world would lift, and you’d feel lighter than you had in months. It was like he had this uncanny ability to find the one shred of joy left in the rubble of your life and hand it to you, wrapped in a bow of charm and wit.

Other times, he wouldn’t say much at all. He’d just listen, his red-on-black eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. Those eyes—they were so different, so otherworldly, yet there was something in them that was deeply human. Something that flickered and glimmered in the dim light, something you couldn’t quite name but felt drawn to like a moth to a flame. When he looked at you like that, it was as if he could see straight through the walls you’d built around yourself, straight to the parts of you that you tried so hard to keep hidden.

On those days, when the air was thick with the scent of dust and decay, it was easy to forget where you were, easy to imagine that you were somewhere else—somewhere safe, somewhere normal. You’d walk side by side, your shoulders occasionally brushing, and it felt more like a partnership than a necessity. There was something about those moments that made the world seem a little less broken, like maybe, just maybe, there was still something worth holding onto.

But deep down, you knew better. You knew this world didn’t allow for things like normalcy or comfort, not really. It was a world built on the bones of the past, where survival was the only currency that mattered, and hope was a dangerous thing to carry. And yet, despite all of that, there was something about Remy that made you want to believe, even if only for a fleeting moment, that things could be different. That maybe, just maybe, the two of you could carve out a small piece of happiness in the midst of all this chaos—a tiny oasis in a desert of despair.

But then, inevitably, the silence would creep back in, like an unwelcome guest that refused to leave. It would settle over you like a heavy blanket, suffocating and cold, and you’d feel the reality of your situation pressing down on you from all sides. The silence wasn’t just empty; it was a void, a gaping maw that threatened to swallow you whole if you let it. It was a reminder of all the things you’d lost, all the things you couldn’t afford to think about for too long—the people who were gone, the life you’d never get back, the future that had been stolen from you.

So you’d talk—about anything, everything—because the alternative was too unbearable to consider. You’d fill the air with words, with stories and questions and idle musings, anything to keep the silence at bay. And Remy would let you, because he seemed to understand, in a way that no one else did, that the silence wasn’t something you could face alone. He’d let you talk until your voice was hoarse and your mind was too tired to think, and then he’d flash that grin of his again, that infuriatingly charming grin, and you’d realize that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as alone as you thought.

In those moments, when the silence was held at bay by the sound of your own voice and the steady presence of the man beside you, you almost believed that you could survive this. That there was something more to fight for than just survival. That maybe, in the ruins of this shattered world, you could find something resembling happiness. And as long as Remy kept flashing that grin, as long as he kept listening, you’d keep talking, because talking was the only way you knew how to keep the darkness at bay. <><><><><><><>

It was on one of those long supply runs that it happened. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the barren landscape, turning the world into a canvas of deep reds and purples. The two of you had wandered further than usual, driven by the desperate need to find anything that could keep your ragtag group going for just one more day. You had been talking—filling the space with your usual chatter, anything to keep the silence at bay. But then, in your distraction, you stumbled over a loose rock, and before you could even register what was happening, his hand shot out, steadying you with a firm, yet gentle grip.

You looked up at him, a laugh already bubbling to your lips, ready to make some offhand comment about how clumsy you were, how you’d trip over your own shadow if given the chance. But the words died in your throat the moment you met his eyes. There was something in his gaze, something that made your breath catch in your chest. It wasn’t just concern or the usual teasing glint you’d come to expect. No, this was different.

In that moment, it was as though the world had shrunk down to just the two of you. The distant sounds of the wasteland faded away, the colors of the dying sun dimmed, leaving only the intensity of his gaze, locking you in place. There was something in his eyes, something deep and unspoken, that made you feel like he was seeing you for the first time—really seeing you. And it left you feeling exposed in a way you weren’t prepared for, like every defense you’d ever put up had been stripped away in an instant.

You could feel the sudden closeness between you, the warmth of his hand still on your arm, grounding you in a way that was both comforting and terrifying. Time seemed to stretch, each second drawing out as you stood there, caught in the weight of the moment. You could see the flicker of something in his eyes, a vulnerability that mirrored your own, and it shook you to your core.

For what felt like an eternity, neither of you moved. You were too afraid that if you did, the spell would break, and the moment would shatter into a million pieces. You wanted to say something, anything, but your mind was blank, every word you knew suddenly feeling inadequate. All you could do was stare up at him, your heart pounding in your chest, as if it were trying to break free from the cage of your ribs.

And then, finally, Remy broke the silence, his voice low and rough, like he was struggling to find the right words. “Cher,” he murmured, the endearment slipping from his lips like a secret he hadn’t meant to share. You felt it like a physical touch, soft and warm, wrapping around your heart. “Y’alright?”

It wasn’t the words that got to you, but the way he said them. It was as if he was asking more than just whether you were physically okay. He was asking if you were okay in a way that went deeper, in a way that touched on everything you’d been holding back, everything you’d been too afraid to admit, even to yourself.

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice, but when you finally spoke, it came out as little more than a whisper. “Yeah… I’m fine.”

But you weren’t fine. Not really. And you knew he could see it.

The tension between you was palpable, a live wire crackling with unspoken emotions. His hand lingered on your arm for a moment longer, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. And then, just as suddenly as it had happened, he let go, stepping back to give you space. The loss of his touch was almost painful, a cold emptiness settling in where his warmth had been.

You both stood there, awkward and unsure, the weight of what had just passed between you hanging in the air like a storm cloud. Neither of you knew what to say, how to acknowledge what had just happened without breaking whatever fragile thing had begun to take shape between you.

Finally, Remy cleared his throat, his usual grin returning, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Better watch your step, cher,” he said lightly, trying to ease the tension with humor. “Can’t have you fallin’ all over the place now, can we?”

You forced a smile, nodding as you tried to push down the swirling emotions threatening to overwhelm you. “Yeah, wouldn’t want to give you any more work,” you replied, your voice too bright, too forced. The moment passed, but it left a scar, an invisible line drawn in the sand between what was and what could be. As you both continued walking, the quiet settling in around you, it was impossible to ignore the shift in the air, the way your thoughts kept circling back to the feel of his hand on your arm, the intensity in his gaze. You replayed it in your mind, over and over, trying to decipher the meaning behind it, trying to understand what it was that had passed between you in that brief second when the world had seemed to stop.

You tried to pretend like nothing had changed, like you could just go back to the way things were before. But the truth was, it had changed. The dynamic between you and Remy had shifted, and there was no going back to the comfortable rhythm you’d shared before. There was a tension now, a charged current that hummed between you, making every glance, every accidental touch, feel like a spark that could ignite something neither of you were ready to acknowledge.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the sky bleeding into a deep, bruised purple, you found yourself hyper-aware of every movement, every breath. The usual banter that flowed so easily between you felt stilted, forced, like you were both trying too hard to pretend there hadn’t been a crack in the armor you’d both so carefully constructed.

You couldn’t help but steal glances at him out of the corner of your eye, searching for any sign that he felt it too—that same nervous energy buzzing under your skin, the same questions spinning through your mind. But Remy was as hard to read as ever, his expression carefully neutral, betraying nothing of the storm that might be raging beneath the surface.

When he did catch your gaze, just for a moment, there was something there—something fleeting, like a shadow passing over his features before it was gone, replaced by that easy, familiar grin you’d come to rely on. It was almost as if he was waiting for you to make the first move, to say something, to break the silence that had settled between you like a fragile truce.

But you didn’t. You couldn’t. The words caught in your throat, tangled in fear and uncertainty. What if you were wrong? What if you’d misread everything, and all you’d end up doing was shattering whatever fragile thing had begun to grow between you? The thought of losing him, of losing the one bright spot in the darkness you lived in, was enough to keep you silent, to keep you from taking that leap.

So instead, you both just kept walking, the distance between you both physical and emotional, growing with every step. The temperature dropped as night fully claimed the sky, the cold seeping into your bones, but it wasn’t the chill that made you shiver. It was the weight of the unspoken, the words you were too afraid to say, the feelings you were too scared to admit, even to yourself.

The landscape around you was a wasteland of crumbling buildings and twisted metal, a graveyard of what had once been, but as you walked beside Remy, it was hard not to feel like you were in a different kind of wasteland, one of your own making. A barren place where fear and doubt had taken root, choking out the possibility of anything more.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Remy broke the silence. “We should head back,” he said, his voice low, almost hesitant. “Ain’t nothin’ out here worth gettin’ caught in the dark for.” There was a note in his voice, something that hinted at more than just the physical darkness that surrounded you. It was as if he was acknowledging the darkness that had crept into the space between you, the unspoken tension that neither of you seemed willing to confront.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, afraid that if you did, your voice would betray everything you were trying so hard to keep hidden. You turned, retracing your steps back toward the makeshift home you’d made with the others, the silence between you now thicker, more oppressive than before.

The walk back was quiet, the only sounds the crunch of your boots against the gravel and the distant, eerie howls of the wind as it whipped through the ruins around you. You kept your eyes trained on the ground, focusing on each step, trying to keep your thoughts from spiraling out of control. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop the questions from gnawing at you.

What if you were missing something? What if this was your chance, your one chance, to reach out, to grab hold of the one thing that made this world bearable? The thought of letting it slip through your fingers was almost unbearable, but the fear of what could happen if you took that step, if you laid yourself bare, was paralyzing.

By the time you reached the edge of your makeshift camp, the others were already gathered around the fire, their faces illuminated by the flickering flames. You could see the weariness etched into their features, the toll this life had taken on all of you, but there was also something else—a flicker of hope, a sense of camaraderie that had kept you all going, even in the darkest of times.

Remy hung back as you approached the group, his presence a steady, comforting weight at your side. But even as you sat down by the fire, feeling the warmth seep into your chilled skin, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had been left unfinished, something vital that you couldn’t afford to ignore much longer.

As the conversation around the fire picked up, the usual banter and stories filling the air, you found yourself stealing glances at Remy, who had taken a seat across from you, his eyes focused on the fire, the flames reflecting in his crimson irises. There was a sadness there, a weariness that you hadn’t noticed before, and it made your heart ache.

You wondered what he was thinking, if he was as lost in his thoughts as you were, if he was wrestling with the same questions, the same fears. You wanted to reach out, to say something, anything, that would bridge the gap between you, but the words still wouldn’t come. So, instead, you just sat there, the fire crackling between you, the silence heavy with everything you were too afraid to say.

The night dragged on, the others eventually drifting off to their makeshift beds, until it was just you and Remy left by the dying embers of the fire. The darkness pressed in around you, the only light coming from the faint glow of the coals, casting long shadows that danced across the ground.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Remy spoke, his voice quiet, almost hesitant. “Y’ ever think about what it’d be like… if things were different?”

The question hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and you felt your breath catch in your throat. He wasn’t just talking about the world, you realized. He was talking about you, about the two of you.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to find the right words, the courage to answer him honestly. “All the time,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “But it doesn’t change anything, does it?”

Remy looked at you then, really looked at you, and for a moment, the mask he wore slipped, revealing the vulnerability beneath. “Maybe not,” he said softly, his eyes locking onto yours, “but it don’t mean we can’t try to make somethin’ outta what we got.”

It was a simple statement, but it hit you like a punch to the gut, knocking the air out of your lungs. Because he was right. The world was broken, shattered beyond repair, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t try to find some piece of happiness, some small corner of peace, in the midst of it all.

You looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to see what had been there all along—the way he cared, the way he watched out for you, the way he listened when no one else did. And in that moment, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to face this world alone.

Taking a deep breath, you reached out, your hand trembling slightly, and placed it on top of his. The contact sent a jolt through you, but it was grounding, reassuring, and you felt something inside you shift, something that had been locked away for too long.

“Maybe we can,” you said, your voice steady now, filled with a quiet determination. “Maybe we can make something good out of all this.”

Remy’s hand tightened around yours, his thumb brushing softly against your skin, and for the first time in a long time, you felt a glimmer of hope, a tiny spark in the darkness.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

#Remy Lebeau x reader #Gambit x reader #Remy Lebeau #Gambit #Fanfiction #Reader Insert #marvel #deadpool & wolverine #Deadpool 3 #Writing #Ao3

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pokegalla · 6 months ago

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Haven’t watched this in awhile but I hope I do this some justice!

Request/trade from @neko-rose888

How do the bad sanses (+ Dream) deal with an S/o just like Yor Forger?

Dust:

* You two are literally the quiet duo. You would think that’s a bad thing right? Nah. Introverts just have their own way of communicating. So he actually understands you best. Which much to your relief helps you a lot.

* Now seeing you in battle is a whole ‘nother story. He didn’t think you had it in you. Even under the hoodie you can see his eyes go wide as you easily take down a group of strong men easily- you just earned this man’s instant affection-

* But if there’s one thing he’s more terrified of, it’s your cooking. He doesn’t panic but he’s pretty creative on getting rid of the evidence. Thank god he can teleport this away. No offense to you…he just can’t do it. But at least he’s discreet so he doesn’t hurt your feelings.

* To him you are a beautiful strong and independent woman…and he’ll protect you even in the shadows.

Killer:

* He thought you were the cutest damn thing ever. Teasing you with sweet words and gentle gestures to flirt and see your face turn red. Stars he can never get over that sight.

* But man seeing you in action just makes him fall in more love. Fighting side by side as people drop down to the floor as you dance together with your blades? Can he really think of anything more romantic than this?

* Your cooking is one thing he’s a little….scared of. He still eats it. He loves you that much! But man his nonexistent stomach hurts so much- worth it-🥲

* He still loves you though. His perfect thorn princess…he’ll be sure to dance again with you

Horror:

* Ironically both of you are pretty similar: both of you are absolutely precious but a little terrifying if necessary- Horror is like a big ol teddy bear who likes to tail you around to make sure you don’t hurt yourself and you make sure he’s ok too!

* But man both of you are RELENTLESS in battles. Downright chilling to the bone (pun intended-) with your cold glares and shocking strength. The switch up even makes the others nervous-

* But nothing more terrifying then Horror actually eating your cooking without any hesitation and even asking for seconds- thanks to him, you strive to do better in your cooking!

* He can’t help but have a soft spot for you. Just please do be careful. He worries a lot….

Error:

* Don’t let this tsundere act bullshit you- he finds you annoying but speaks up for you instantly? That man will glare anyone down if they try to take advantage of you-

* And despite being a little surprised at how capable you are in battle, he does still watch over you and assists you anyway he can. What? He knows you’re still a klutz. He’s not wanting to have to swoop in and save you because YOU aren’t paying attention- (he was being a worrywart-)

* He doesn’t really eat anything other than his chocolate bars but you swear someone has been tampering with your cooking….oh well. It does seem to taste better now!

* He might be a little jackass but that’s only because that’s what he wants you to see. He’s no softie dammit-!

Nightmare:

* He hired you for your services as your reputation exceeded you. But he was…not expecting someone so…well soft. He thought it was a facade but nope- purely that is your true character. Which was odd to him….could someone this innocent really do anything useful?

* Oh man but you shut him up with your actions. Your speed, your elegant skills, your raw power, he was mesmerized by it all. Could you really be the same gullible quiet girl….? Well you’ve earned his respect.

* With cooking, he actually helps you. At first you spoon feed him a taste and instead of panicking at the taste, he gives you an honest opinion, some advice, and even a cook book for you to follow. He does linger longer than he should have….

* He can’t help the soft spot that’s grown so fond of you. He’s hesitant but he can’t ignore how nice it feels to be with you….

Dream:

* He heard rumors of your deeds and wanted to put a stop to you. But when he first saw you…well he didn’t expect you to be so reserved. And kind. And sweet….he actually heard your story and you gained his empathy as he understood how you would feel the need to work hard for your sibling’s sake.

* He doesn’t agree with your work but he doesn’t stop you. Because he knows how important this is for you. But expect him to constantly make sure you’re ok and ready to heal you if necessary.

* As for cooking, he usually ends up cooking with you. Mostly because he smelled your cooking and was a little…concerned. But he decided to make this kinda like a fun dating activity while he teaches you! And oh how fun it was. You both couldn’t stop giggling.

* He really cherishes you and despite living different lives, you both make it work….

#my writing #undertale au #self insert #funny #cute #undertale au headcanons #anime headcanons #technically #reader is similar to Yor forger #sans au x reader #bad sanses x reader #dust sans #error sans #nighmare sans #killer sans #horror sans #dream sans #request answered

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lady-ashfade · 1 year ago

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Lullaby: Soft moments shared between you and demon slayer characters.

Plot: The character find themselves being sang by you. Either way it’s adorable. Everyone can be romantic or platonic.

Reader: Can sing (just pretend).

I really like “All is found.” From frozen. Leave me alone. And reader in her “fight song” era.

Character: Muichiro Tokito, Tanjiro Kamado, Zenitsu Agatsuma, Inosuke Hashibira.

Requests are open! (You can try and send in some for my event happening)

The sheets ruffle as you take a seat on the side of tanjiro’s bed, his arms wrapped up in bandages and a cold rag pressed on his forehead. You looked at him as he just smiled kindly at you. “You can leave. I will be okay.” You wanted to believe that, you wanted to leave him be but your own guilt stopped you from moving.

“Not until you sleep. I know how this can feel” you reach up and move the hair off his face, “Being in a medical bed can be tough.” Offering a smile. He just sighed but happily and defeated because he couldn’t convince you to leave. “I used to be here all the time when I first joined, I had my own bed since I was here every week.” You laughed at yourself and continued to play with his hair.

“There was a sweet old lady named Kokoro. She took care of me most of them time, the woman cared for everyone like her own children.” He hummed underneath you and closed his eyes, still listening but trying to find some peace to drift off. You playing with his hair was calming down a lot. “She used to sing to me, a old song..” you took a breath and smiled.

“Where the north winds met the sea” you sang softly and not to loud. Tanjir opened his eyes to look at you while you closed your own with a smile.

“There a river full of memories” you continue to sing and play with his hair. Tanjiro felt at easy and closed his eyes and enjoyed the moment of your soft voice. It’s been two long since he had someone sing to him, he never thought it would happen again.

Half way through the song you notice his breaths become softer and easier, you knew he was sleeping as he parted his lips. So you slowly stopped and lifted yourself up off the bed as carefully as you could. Leaning down you kiss his forehead.

“Goodnight Tanjiro.” He subconsciously smiled in his sleep.

Zenitsu refused to leave your lap, his arms grabbed ahold of you when you tried to push him away. He just need to be near someone because the mission had scared him to the ends of the earth. It was a horrible nightmare for the squad, you were the only willing to put up with him- Or at first.

But you let him stay because you saw how scared he was, you made him lay back on your lap which he happily did. He blushed when you put a hand in his hair and massaged his scalp, he focused on your warmth and breathing. A blanket tucked over him as he closed his eyes and tried to think calming thoughts.

(You know his language is touch, even if it’s platonic)

“Zenitsu,” your voice rang through his ears and he hummed in return, “Can I sing to you? I know how that can relax someone.” You look down and see his eyes open carefully. His cheeks dusted pink as he nodded and closed his eyes back as a way to hide his embarrassment. But it didn’t help. You chuckled softly at him and let your fingers work in his hair.

You began to sing the lullaby, “Where the north wind meets the sea” he listened carefully and his cheeks just burned brighter. He couldn’t believe you were singing to him, to help him sleep. You had a nice voice and sounded soothing.

He relaxed himself and focused on the lyrics and tried not to think of anything else but you, your voice and the hand in his hair. Slowly he drifted deep and deeper into sleep until it took over his body.

Seeing a bubble coming from his noses made you try and not laugh but you found it adorable. If you hadn’t had stayed with him he wouldn’t have been able to sleep and you knew that. So now he is carefree and getting the rest he needs. It filled you with pride.

You pulled him off you carefully and onto the pillow but he put up good fight, until you finally handed him your own pillow and he cuddled that into his body. You smiled and patted his head and got yourself up and headed to bed yourself knowing everyone was asleep.

This wasn’t on his agenda for the night, he wanted to go back to the mansion but you had dragged him in to a dang safe house. He was hurt, and he was tired. So he stayed but kept quiet, until you wouldn’t leave the room while he laid down.

“Why aren’t you leaving?” He turned to see you smile and set down your our own bed things, “I wouldn’t be able to sleep without knowing your safe.” He blinked at you confused until he remembered what had happened on the mission. The two of you got separated which he didn’t think about but you did, looking for him far and wide and got panicked when you didn’t see him.

He remembered you pulling in into a hug and crying about how you thought he was dead or hurt. He was confused at the time and still is confuse why you care so much. “I’m fine.” He closes his eyes and took a deep breath. You look at him and seat yourself down in the sheets and sighed.

It was a few seconds of silence until you started to sing and his eyes shot wide and looked over at you. His eyes the same look as they aways have and he just stared at you. Poor boy was like “👀” in his bed roll. You just turned to him and smiled very sweetly and continued.

He oddly liked your voice and how your song sounded. He couldn’t help but close his own eyes and enjoy the song you sang and just drift to sleep. It was calming and comforting for him.

Maybe you joining his mission weren’t so bad.

This big dummy was so startled the first time you sang him, especially while he was trying to sleep. It was after a mission of course and even if he didn’t want to admit it, he was worried you would be taken. Or die in the middle of the night. The events of the day had him spiraling when he saw you almost get beaten and thrown around.

So you two shared a room and it was comfortable because even though he snores, you were glad he would allow you to.

Inosuke was laying down and his mouth opened and ready to fall asleep. Until he hears your voice start to sing, and down pretty. He shot up so fast, “What the hell are you doing? I’m trying to sleep.” He shouted adt you laughed and stopped. “I like to sing before I go to bed, do you have a song you want?”

He blinked at you and growled, “Just shut up.” But you just laughed and sit back and ignored his wishes and continue to sing. He stayed there for a minute while his eyes twitched, you just ignored him. It pissed him off.

The sound of your voice echoed through the room and his ear’s listening for a minute made his mind stopped for a minute. Why the hell did he feel fuzzy? Why was your singing making him feel different? You looked over him and see his gaze just soften and staring at you, not angry or anything like he normally was. But I’m admiration.

“Come here.” You open your arms for him. Inosuke rolled his eyes and you saw a blush form on his cheeks, “Whatever.” He mumbled trying to get his dignity intact. He pulled his bed closer to yours and lays his head on your chest.

You put your hand in his hair and sang to him, a old song telling a story to make him happy. Inosuke felt calm like this. He wondered how you could just do this to him? Where you a demon with magic to calm him down? Or did you just care, like tanjiro but better?

Whenever it was he was happy to be in your arms.

#zenitsu #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer headcanons #tanjiro x reader #tanjiro kamado headcannons #tanjiro kamado x reader #tanjiro kamado #zenitsu agatsuma #zenitsu agatsuma x reader #zenitsu x reader #zenitsu headcannons #Inosuke Hashibira x reader #Inosuke Hashibira #Inosuke Hashibira headcannons #muichiro tokito x reader #Muichiro Tokito #Muichiro Tokito headcannons

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hellishjoel · 1 year ago

Text

let the light in

8.8k / pairing: dbf/neighbor joel miller x f!reader

hellishjoel masterlist | notifications blog | cinnamon girl masterlist

summary: Joel takes you on your first proper date, but there’s trouble in Houston.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), NO OUTBREAK, dbf/neighbor!joel, age gap (reader is in their early 20’s while Joel is in his 40’s), cursing, use of pet names (kitten, angel, baby girl, etc.), daddy kink, unprotected p in v, a lil praise kink, a slight Table for Two crossover if you squint, daddy issues, Joel smoking cigarettes

A/N: the one time I was actually ON TIME to finish a Cinnamon Girl chapter, and I get slapped with covid - but here it is a week late! thank you to @saradika-graphics for the banners <3

Light leaks through the tattered curtains, slipping through the seams and highlighting Joel’s cheekbone.

It almost scares you. Like you’re not in the safety of the motel room but rather in his bed or in your own at the summer cabin. Like your parents or Sarah could walk in at any moment and see you curled into Joel’s side, both naked from the waist down. It’s like a nightmare, your heart rate startling you awake.

Your shoulders bunch as you recollect air to your lungs and settle, hazy vision settling on the motel room. Joel is sound asleep, a large lumberjack with large breaths in and large breaths out. You can’t help but watch him. He looks peaceful. Sound asleep, untouched by the problems of the outside works.

Being this close to him feels odd. It still feels like you’re not supposed to be here, this damn close. In fact, you’re supposed to be at least fifteen feet from him, hiding. But you don’t have to hide, not here. There are no skeptical eyes, no nosey neighbors or parents. You can hold his hand, smile at him with real meaning, and sleep beside him. Enjoy pleasure with him.

A sigh leaves your lips, and you gently rest your forehead against his toned shoulder. He’s warm. A furnace, really. Your eyes flutter closed, lulling you into slumber once more. The next time you wake, your arms are locked around his waist in a tight bear hug. Your head had found a place of safety against his side and tucked into his armpit. You were curled up in a ball, a strong hand skimming up and down your back peacefully.

That pesky feeling surges you awake again, like you’re not supposed to be here. You shoot up with a bit more gust, your speeding heart rate sending you up again as your eyelashes flutter in panic.

“Shhh,” a gentle, low voice hums.

It’s not enough to calm you yet, your stomach lurches as you’re tiredly sitting up and pushing away from the safety you were once encapsulated in.

“Joel,” you whisper with concern, feeling your shoulders lock up, sitting exhaustedly up on your elbows. You take in your surroundings, the old mini fridge and the aging television speckled with dust. Your backpack and Joel’s duffel bag on the spare bed. The pounding in your chest halts, falling weakly into his awaiting arms once more.

“I’m sorry, I thought,” your speech falters, not able to string together a hazy thought.

“I know,” Joel whispers, allowing you to rest beside him once more. You frown as you lay your cheek against his pec, finding comfort in twirling your finger around his longer chest hair.

A comforting silence relaxes the two of you, the daylight casting more warmth into the room, and now it was highlighting a fuzzy rectangle along his abdomen. You trace the shape, humming softly as you turn your head and rest your chin on his chest, smiling softly at the sight of his messy hair.

“You look like you slept well.” You tease, pushing your fingers through his faded dark hair, trying to relax the messy, knotted locks. His hand reaches for yours, interlocking your fingers gently.

“You look like you just woke up from a nightmare.”

Your smile falters, only now taking in that he saw you in a panic waking up beside him.

“It wasn’t about you. This,” You clarify, soft eyes meeting his chocolate ones. “I’m not used to being with you. Just you.”

Joel rests your clasped hands over his chest. You can feel his delicate heartbeat.

“I know. S’okay.”

You usually hate when he talks so little, a deadbolted door or a bank safe with his thoughts. But hearing his limited reassurance was actually soothing. No over-explanation is needed.

“But it’s nice?” You ask curiously, bringing his calloused hand gently to your lips, leaving soft kisses in your wake along brandished knuckles.

Joel’s lips quirk up in a fatigued smile.”S’more than nice. I haven’t slept that good in ages.”

You roll your eyes playfully and sit up on your knees at his side, still holding his hand as you gently squeeze. “It’s the sex that got you to sleep so soundly, wasn’t it?” You ask with a smirk, gently biting down on the plush of your lower lip.

Now with you sat up fully, Joel’s tired eyes linger on your taut nipples making peaks under your pajama shirt. He tuts tiredly and sits up on his elbows, releasing your hand to lock around the outside of your thigh, guiding it over his lap and allowing you to straddle him.

“Wasn’t the sex. Was you.”

A shiver travels up your back, pursing your lips to dial down your growing smile, pressing your hips further down into his, and letting your ass lightly grind down into his morning wood.

“You sure about that, cowboy?” You hum, taking his hand and guiding it up to your neck, weakly winding his fingers around the expanse of your throat. You hum, letting him feel the vibration. He likes it, you can tell by the way his fingers twitch just a smidge tighter and the way he swells against your core. You drag him by his wrist lower, between the valley of your breasts, feeling the slopes even over your baggy short-sleeve tee.

“Guide me.” You whisper, settling his hand to tighten around your hip as you continue to roll them at an agonizingly slow pace. “Guide me, Joel. However you want.”

Joel’s eyes noticeably darken despite the light beginning to pierce the room. Something twitches behind his jaw, and the all-too-familiar feeling in your stomach ignites at his gaze.

A wet spot sprouts between your legs, and you silently pat yourself on the back for not putting on the one last sacred pair of panties you had packed. You whimper weakly and let your eyes drift closed, settling both of your hands on the tops of his thighs. You’re now blindly aware that both of you abandoned wearing any sort of undergarments to bed. Thank god, you think.

Joel grunts quietly as his hands tighten on your hips. You two are damn near perfectly centered because his cock is swelling perfectly between your wet folds. He’s impossible to ignore.

You’re nipping at your bottom lip, throwing your head back in quiet bliss, arching your back, feeling your hair fan out as your nails dig into Joel’s meaty thighs.

Joel’s persistent, patient, insisting on watching you crumble. You’re weak for him, heat creeping up your spine and growing tacky against your temples.

“Guide me, Daddy.” Your hips twitch faster at the name, it slipped without you even thinking. But you didn’t regret it. Frankly, you liked it. But was it weird to him?

You gulp and sit up properly, your hips slowing to a halt. “Joel, I-”

“I didn’t say t’stop.” His chest rumbles, eyes piercing yours.

Goosebumps blew across your skin like a cold breeze had settled in, lips parting in surprise. His voice was guttural, deep, sending a spark to your core.

“I’m sorry,” you move to start again, but his large palms grip your ass, pausing your movements and making you whimper. You needed the friction, you needed him.

“You’re sorry, what?” He probes, feeling a heat spread across your chest and down into your stomach.

“I’m sorry… Daddy.” You whisper with a coy smile, moving your hands to his chest and forcing him to fall back into the bed, off his forearms. “Let me make it up to you.”

Joel’s smirk is sick and twisted, a masterpiece. It thrills you like a rollercoaster drifting down, sending a lightning strike to your core and making you sticky with arousal, coating his dick in the process. A shaky breath leaves your parted lips, using the leverage of your one hand on his chest while the other fishes for his dick between his thighs. You wrap your hand around him and shuffle it up and down his length, feeling him fatten in your hand and leak drops of precum.

Joel grumbles at the feeling, watching as his chest rose and fell at a quicker rate with the attention. He’s so sexy being handled by you. You can feel his thighs twitching below your own, little grunts of pleasure leaving his rosy lips.

“You wanna ride me, princess?” He asks, coffee-colored orbs glowing with need.

You pause for a moment, eyes landing on his with hesitation. You push down your nerves and swallow, lining his tip up to your entrance and feeling his tip slowly sink in. You flinch over his lap again, a little inexperienced with being on top. It just doesn’t quite feel right, and you don’t want to hurt him.

A huff leaves your impatient lips, trying again to line him up, but he still doesn’t catch. You roll your eyes at yourself, cursing under your breath. How the fuck do you get it in from up here? You want to ride a dick, not solve a Rubix cube. Now, your arm was shaking from holding you up for so long, making you a bit unsteady. Frustration festered in your blood, jaw clenched as Joel watched you patiently.

Joel’s trying not to snicker. It’s not you exactly that’s making him laugh, but your continued lack of wanting any sort of help. “Can I?”

“No.” You say a little too fast, eyes meeting his surprised ones after a moment. “Sorry, but no, I’ve got it. Just- just give me a minute.”

Joel cocked his eyebrow and watched with satisfaction as you tried over and over again to sit on his dick. He clasped his hands behind his head, biceps bulging at either side of his head.

Your head was so fuzzy with need that your fidgeting hands kept losing the perfect angle for him to slip inside. You grunted in annoyance, having to take a break as you planted both hands on his chest again. Sweat clustered at the backside of your neck, shyly catching a glance at him. Cocky son of a bitch. Just watching you with a smile.

“I offered t’help, darlin’.” He said with a light shrug, making you whimper quietly.

“But I wanted to do it on my own.”

Joel’s hands unwind from behind his head, guiding them to your back and gently adding pressure to allow you to rest over his front.

“I know ya did, baby girl. Let Daddy help you.”

You whimper but nod with a soft pout, feeling his calloused and rough palms coast lower to the flesh of your ass. You moan quietly and drift your eyes closed, nose nustling against his chest hair for comfort.

“Your problem is always that y’not relaxed enough. Y’hold too much pressure on yourself to be perfect all the damn time.” You hide your frown, feeling unveiled to him once again. Vulnerable. Joel had a knack for always knowing what was going on in your head, even when you didn’t. “Breathe in, kitten.”

Your eyelashes flutter, but you did as he asked, taking in a deep breath. His hand fists the base of his cock, guiding himself up and down your wet center. Just as you weren’t anticipating him, his tip nudged into your entrance, making you gasp.

“Shh, shh,” he whispers again, his other hand lightly fisting your hair and swiping it off your shoulder and out of his way. You whine as you slowly sink over him.

Reminded of his words, you took a few more deep breaths and allowed him to enter you fully. All the air left your weak lungs, broken mewls for more left your parted lips, and fanned hot breaths across his chest.

Your head drops in defeat, forehead to his warm neck. “I’ve only done this like... once. It probably doesn’t even count, the guy came before I even got to ride him.” You bite back a smile as you peek your head up, feeling his abdomen contort under you, an effect of your walls tightening around him.

Joel slowly nodded, jaw tight, eyes still as dark as night. “S’cause you were fuckin’ around with boys. Daddy’s here now. I’ll guide ya.” He assures, wrapping his large hands around your wrists and setting you up once again to lean on his chest.

You sit up with newfound confidence, and he guides your body just like he prefers.

“Which feels better,” he starts to ask as you sit up properly. You can feel every damn inch of Joel, but you’re attempting to focus on him, and not his dick piercing the air from your chest. You feel his hands on your calves, gently tapping.

“You wanna roll your hips, bounce forward a little, keeping your hands here? Or,” he pauses again and guides your feet to settle in at his sides instead of your calves, putting your hands on his upper thighs again. Shit. This one you felt a little less confident in, less able to control your body. And the last thing you wanted was to fall off.

Joel watches as you shake your head with a shy little smile. He observes you bring your hands back to his chest, planting them on his pecs. Your small little hands were adorable on the large planes of his upper half.

Like this? You silently ask with your eyes.

He nods, watching you move back down onto your calves.

“You ready?” He asks, putting his own hands on your hips.

Reassurance floods through his palms, and you give him another tight nod. He was swelled inside of you, whimpering weakly as you slowly leaned forward, following the nervous lump in your throat. You slowly push back, and he fills you again. You moan for him, telling him with little to no words how perfect he feels inside of you.

You keep your pace, back and forth, using the leverage from your hands on his chest as he watches you in blissed-out amazement. He starts to grunt quietly with each of your bounces. You find a pace that suits you. Joel’s hands teach you how to roll your hips, not just bounce, and it lulls you into a haze. It feels like heaven.

“Christ,” he mutters, groaning as your walls squeeze him. “Fuck me so good, pretty girl. Faster, now.”

Your head lifts up weakly at his demands, whimpering loudly as your fingernails etch moon-shaped dents into his flesh. But you do as he says because you like when he calls you his pretty girl. His obedient girl.

With a flush of heat flooding through your core, you sit up and continue bouncing, feeling your ass clap against the tops of his thighs. You take his hands off your hips and interlock them, whimpering loudly as you continue to ride his cock. He’s pulsing inside of you, being gushed with your arousal. You loved holding his hands, it was comforting, calmed your rattling nerves.

“God fucking- Christ, Daddy, please,” you whimper out, jaw slack as you feel every vein in his cock, even his slight curve that had you mewling for more as he buried himself inside of you to the hilt.

“That’s it, pretty girl, so good for Daddy, look so fuckin’ hot on top.” He smirks, making your head swirl. You can’t help but expel desperate moans at his praise, feeling your head spin as your euphoria threatens the seams of your vision. Everything was a haze. You only knew to keep moving, keep satisfying each other.

“Fuck-fuck-fuck,” you say with each bounce, your body keeping this faster pace as you clench desperately around him. He was so deep, kissing your cervix with each thrust and making your stomach twist.

Joel was in awe. Couldn’t believe he had such a beautiful girl hopping in his lap first thing in the morning. This newfound confidence suits you, he thinks. His hands lose yours, but only for a moment, fed up with seeing your breasts jump under your shirt. He needs to see you bare, perfectly nude, for his liking.

You aid off the material and quickly fling it aside, pausing for a breath to grind down against him, coating his balls in your wetness. The large expanse of Joel’s palms coasts up your stomach and to your breasts, squeezing and kneading at the pretty mounds. He pinches your nipples between his thumbs and forefinger, watching them get their color hot with attention. You whine at the harshness, but god, do you love it. It made you all the more sensitive, feeling your clit tingle with need. You were breathless now, panting his name in a dizzy heat.

“Feels so good, Daddy,” you gulp, pausing your movements for a moment.

“Getting tired, princess?” Joel asks, watching his girl grow winded at her first time riding. It was sweet, really. Just seeing her try was enough for him.

You slowly smirk and shake your head slowly, continuing to grind your core against his. Your clit catches friction from his pubic hairs, whining like a needy brat.

“I’m gonna make you cum like this, Daddy. Just wait.” You take a deep breath and start again, taking his hands in yours as you start bouncing once more.

Joel plants his feet into the bed, finding the new position a little easier to let you glide up and down his dick, even meeting your thrusts when you let him. He grunts, feeling a sheen of sweat glisten across his brow. His jaw tightens, eyes narrowing as he feels his orgasm approach.

He instinctively reaches his hand forward, large thumb finding your swollen clit. It’s enough to make your hips twitch at the contact, hinting at the desperation of your own finish. He begins to circle you, making your jaw drop. It was a lot, all of it, perfectly too much. You were self-indulging yourself with Joel’s fat cock.

“That’s it, princess, finish on my dick like a good girl, Daddy wants to see you come.” Joel’s own stomach couldn’t help but feel the high coursing through his veins, grunting as your pretty ass clapped loudly against his thighs, the sound echoing inside the room and back into his ears.

You couldn’t hold on anymore; your head grew fuzzy, and your eyes began to see stars. This orgasm felt so different from any others, the build-up was enough to make your heart pump hard in your ears.

Crying out weakly, you shift your hips faster, weakly grinding as you come undone over his cock. Your head hung low, shuddering your back and shoulders as you felt Joel pump rope after rope of white hot cum inside of you. He paints your walls in his name, marking you as his, finishing with grunts of your pretty little name on his lips.

Collapsing on his chest, you let him stuff you.

“Fuck, baby girl,” Joel said breathily, eyes closed, chest rising quickly as he regained his strength. You couldn’t care less about the mess between your thighs. You loved this feeling. Joel kept his warm cum stuffed inside of you, feeling it weakly leak whenever you shifted. You sponged kisses across his damp chest, smirking hellishly when you saw the effect you had on him.

He scoffs at your goading face, weakly running his thumb across the rich color of your lower lip.

“Told ya you could do it.” You giggle softly and press a delicate kiss to his chin, then his lips. “Thanks for the help.” You finally muster up, feeling him press another kiss to your lips.

“Course, angel.”

Sex in the morning was like a sugar rush. It filled you with energy. Joel couldn’t really relate.

Getting him out of bed was damn near impossible. You were jumping off the walls, asking what today’s plans were, if he was hungry like you were, and if you could get up to shower together. Meanwhile, he just laid there and sort of… groaned. He barely let you get up, content with letting his softened cock stay inside you for eternity.

You did manage to pester him enough to take a shower, noting that he smelled of cum and sex, to which he replied, “Well… yeah.”

You munched on a Pop-Tart as Joel finished getting dressed, a dark pair of jeans and a navy blue t-shirt with a breast pocket, where he tucked his glasses and a pencil. You held back a snicker, thinking about how cute he was.

“Are those glasses for spotting birds?”

He took the Pop-Tart out of your mouth so fast, making you whine in annoyance. “Enough with the damn bird jokes.” He said before taking a bite and handing the dry pastry back to you.

“Ahh-howe.” You mutter, the dry crumbs making your words a bit muffled.

Joel gathers a few papers from his bag, they look like etched-out designs. You crane your head to watch him, listening to him mutter to himself what he needs to get today. He explains in the truck that he found a supplier in the East part of Houston, wanting to choose someone local rather than online. He was looking for cathedral-stained glass, something transparent compared to opalescent or wispy. He had specific colors and textures in mind, it was all here on his scattered papers. Your fingers follow the smooth lines of graphite, smiling lightly at the design Joel had put so much time into and got approved by the church.

“So.. you already have all the tools for this?”

Joel hums and takes a left-hand turn down a small street. “They’ll have a glass cutter there for me, but I’ve got the rest back home at the tool shed. Grinder, soldering iron, solder, flux, the pattern template.”

“Well, what about gloves? Don’t want you to get cut.”

He scoffs playfully, biting down a smile. “Got those too, baby. Don’t have to worry about me.”

You suck in the side of your cheek and look out the window, hiding your shy face. Of course you worried about him. The last thing you needed was to see Joel with a nicked-up hand running out of his woodshed.

Joel parks in a small driveway by a sign labeled Lighthouse Glass. You shove your hands in your pockets and follow him through the front door. A bell gently chimes above you, alerting the workers to your entrance.

The store is just filled. Stained glass lamps, panels, different art designs, and glass cases filled with the pricier pieces. The selection is wide and also included tools a glazier might need. Joel taught you that word in the truck, he was a stained glass glazier in training.

The far wall was all shelving of various sizes, with smaller cubbies for small to medium-sized stained glass pieces and larger slots for the big, rectangular-sized ones. They were color-coded, too, starting with different shades of blue until they filtered across the rainbow to bright red slices. Small squares showed different samples for inspiration, you found a beautiful aquamarine one that looked beautiful in the summer light. The room was a rainbow hue because of all the art hanging up in the window. Everything sparkled.

An older woman comes out from a back hallway with worn-in wrinkles at her eyes and a passionate smile. She wore long sleeves and jeans under a smock. Her hair was tied back, and a patterned headband wrapped around her strawberry-blonde hairline.

“Joel?” She asks, to which Joel shoves out his hand from his jeans.

“Nice to meet ya.” He cranes his head to you, jutting his chin out as a silent way of telling you to move up. “This is my assistant for the day.”

“Oh,” she cooes with a kind smile, shaking your hand as well. “Nice to meet you both! We’ve been expecting you. Well, this is the showroom,” she extends out her hands to explain, walking through the aisles as you and Joel followed suit.

This reminded you of antique shopping with your mother when you were younger. She scorned you not to touch anything. If you break it, you buy it. So you kept your hands to yourself, watching Joel’s boots as you kept your head low.

It was a very creative atmosphere, to say the least. There were a few customers further inside the store, by the cutting and customization counter. Everyone was here for something a little different, but who else was working on a giant church mural like Joel was?

He unrolled his planning maps to the woman, the name Jo etched on her nametag. She said you had the prettiest eyes she had ever seen and even pulled out a small stained glass square that matched the hue perfectly just from the top of her head. You smiled at the little piece she had given you that you held in your lap, fingers gently feeling up and down the opalescent stained glass. It had a few different shades, it looked like a Monet painting.

Joel glanced over to the piece you held affectionately in your lap, smiling softly at the sight. You had a thing for trinkets, the small things. You lift your head, and Joel swiftly drifts his gaze, clearing his throat as he watches Jo examine his maps. Under the surface of the table, you gently curl your finger around Joel’s pointer. Your thumb gently swipes back and forth across his knuckle, butterflies cascading through your chest as he squeezes your finger affectionately.

“Joel, you’re sure you’re an amateur at this? This is impressive work.” Her compliment made Joel grow a little rosy in the apples of his cheeks. “Everything you have drawn up is achievable. We can start picking out the colors and have them shipped either straight to your home or to the work site. Whatever you prefer.”

As good as Joel is at drawing up the plans, he is terrible at colors. You and Jo worked as a team for another hour, finding the right colors that complemented the artwork as a whole. Joel somehow kept choosing very clashing pieces, but you just patted him on his arm and said this was a certain science, one that you had a rather good eye for.

Jo was checking Joel out at the register, paying using one of the city’s cards since they were the ones funding the project. You had a hard time leaving the section filled with brown stained glass pieces. They were the bunch with the most supplies, everyone picking out the vibrant purples or the classy reds, but never the browns. They were nearly untouched, many covered with dust, each panel hidden behind another. You find a certain beauty in them, your fingers dancing along their edge. Chesnut, hazel, a beautiful amber, coffee to caramel, deep mahogany, sweet cocoa, auburn, and a tawny taupe.

You were torn between burnt mahogany and mahogany brown. The first was a little too purple. Mahogany brown matched Joel’s eyes to a tee. You picked up one of the smaller sample squares and rolled it around in your hand, twisting your lips at the pretty piece. After Joel had preordered all of his cuts and colors, you set your two small squares on the counter. One for your eyes, and one for Joel’s.

“These too, please.”

Joel tilted his head curiously, eyes narrowing on your small hands fidgeting protectively over the two small stained glass sample squares. Jo packaged them up carefully for you and handed them over the counter in a small paper bag.

“Thank you two for your business! Joel, if you need anything, the card for the shop is stapled to your receipt. Feel free to email us pictures of the final piece! We haven’t had anyone do such a large mural. Have a great day.”

“Thank you, ma’am. Appreciate all your instruction.” He tips his head in typical Southern fashion and walks you out the door.

Joel eyes the brown paper bag once you’re both returned to his truck. You immediately open it up and let the mahogany square glisten in the late afternoon light. You lay your forehead against the warm window, humming as you gently squeeze it in your palm.

“Whatcha plannin’ on doin’ with that, buttercup?” He asks, securing his seatbelt.

You angle your back to the truck door, holding up the square and squinting one eye closed, comparing the glass to the color of Joel’s beautiful eyes.

“I don’t know yet. But it’s a perfect match.” You whisper as you move closer to him, over the center console as you hold the square beside his temple. His eyes glistened magnificently, but shied away from all the attention you were giving him. He gently shrugs you off and shakes his head.

“Jus’ don’t cut yourself.” He pauses as he reverses out of the small driveway. “Besides, like the other square better.” He juts up his chin, motioning towards the paper bag. You dig out the other square, the one that resembles your eyes, placing them side by side in your palm. The light bounces off the glass, a harmonious balance between them. Joel’s warmth and comfort, yours strong and vibrant. They complimented one another. You cherished their likeness despite not being the exact same. Carved with love and care. A hobby of Joel’s, now sprinkled with pieces of you.

You placed them gently back into the bag and secured them in the back of his truck, tucking them in carefully around a spare blanket.

Joel worked up a hunger and drove you to a diner named Tommy’s Drive-In. It was quite barren, but again, you thrived being perfectly alone with Joel. You didn’t need much, you just liked being in his presence. And you assumed he, yours.

The waitresses were wearing old fifty-style uniforms, the kind that looked like a dress with little white sneakers. The old maroon leather booths were warmed up by the sun shining through the windows, and you gently slurped up the soda you were given through your straw.

“What’ll we do now that our big mission of this entire trip is done? Still have the afternoon. And Sunday morning.” You ask as your finger swipes slowly down the menu, reading the different options from salads to sliders.

Joel is mysteriously quiet. You narrow your eyes on him and gently kick his shin under the table. His head whips up as he grunts, protectively gripping the area you had probably bruised on his knee.

“Jesus- what the hell,” he gripes, jaw tight as he bore holes into your pretty little face.

“What are you hiding?” You probe, to which he freezes. After a moment of silence, he sighs and sits up straight, eyes back to the menu.

“Not hidin’ nothin’.”

Your eyes narrow on him and his strangely shielded behavior.

“I’m gonna find up what you’re up to.”

“Mushroom Swiss burger looks good.” He derails, making you huff.

Once you both were served your meals, Joel’s mushroom swiss with onion rings and your cheeseburger with fries, he couldn’t help but let out a quiet chuckle after you put in an order for a vanilla milkshake.

“What?” You ask, crossing your arms as you lean back in the booth.

He shakes his head, soft smile silently admiring you.

“Y’do this little… happy dance once ya eat. When you’re hungry, ya sigh a lot and get real quiet. Tap your foot a lot when you’re real hungry. But then when you’re full, ya just..” Joel tries to mimic you, slowly swaying his body back and forth and shimmying his shoulders. You scoff and toss a spare fry at his chest.

“I do not look like that!”

Joel only chuckles and eats the fry, shaking his head again with that gentle smile. One that he seems to only share with you.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. S’cute.”

The compliment makes you pick up heat in your neck and face, looking down at your milkshake once it’s served to you. It’s served with a swirl of whipped cream and two cherries. You hum in excitement, absentmindedly doing a little shimmy as you pick up a cherry. It glistens a pretty reddish maroon in the light, splashed with a little whipped cream. You extend it out to Joel, and he looks at you dubiously. Finally, he leans forward, bares his teeth a little, and plucks the cherry from its stem. It stains his lips and tongue, his mahogany eyes on yours.

His large fingers reach over for the remaining cherry, stealing it from your milkshake and offering it to you. No eyes to hide from, no reason not to be affectionate. If only you could live in this state of bliss forever.

You part your lips and wrap your mouth around the cherry, only needing a little tug to release the fruit from its stem. Joel gives you an approving nod, feeling it gush sweetness between your teeth. You stick out your cherry-colored tongue, and Joel does the same, eliciting a giggle from you.

“Share it with me?” You ask as you stick a second straw into the milkshake.

Joel tries to playfully scoff, shaking his head with a compromising smile. “Haven’t done this with anyone in years. Not since high school, buttercup.”

You coo and lean over the table to the milkshake in the center, watching Joel do the same. Your stomach flutters with butterflies, your foot gently nudging the ankle of his jeans as you slip your sneaker up and down his calf.

His face hardens, pulling away from the sugary milkshake with a tense smirk.

“Knock it off.” He grumbles.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You whisper as you inch your sneaker up higher, taking his jeans with it.

“Don’t start nothin’. We’re headin’ out.”

You huff and take a few more sips of your shake. Joel settles the bill, opening his wallet and leaving a couple of bills at the booth before he walks you out to the truck. His calloused hand settles on your thigh, and your head rests gently on his arm.

“Joel?”

His chest vibrates. “Mm?”

“I’m really happy.” You don’t have enough nerve to look at him, hiding by digging your temple into the crook of his strong arm. He squeezes your thigh reassuringly, palm splayed out on your jeans and fingers lightly digging into the material. You wonder if he’s smiling like you are.

“I’m happy to hear that, cherry.” He whispers soothingly, the gentle hum of the radio highlighting the baritone in his voice. “M’happy, too.”

Your eyebrows furrow, noting how you are moving deeper into downtown and further from the motel. Head picking up, looking from left to right, confusion knits your brows.

“Where are we goin’?” You ask, noting the skyscrapers looming larger and larger as you near the heart of the city.

“You didn’t think I was gonna make you hang out in a motel room all weekend with nothin’ t’do, did ya?” He asks with a growing smile. Was this what he was thinking about back at the diner? You can’t conceal your grin anymore, it’s from ear to ear as he navigates the streets like he’s been here a million times.

“Welcome to Downtown Aquarium. This magnificent six-acre entertainment and dining complex is a five-hundred-thousand-gallon aquatic wonderland home to over three hundred different species of aquatic life from all around the globe.”

“Oh my god,” you whisper in excitement, listening to the aquarium guide who is walking the same path as you and Joel. You can’t help but excitedly take his hand and squeeze it. He holds it and doesn’t let go, even when yours slacks naturally.

You look up to him and know you’re thinking the same thing. There’s no one we know here. We can be whatever we want, whatever we are.

Joel ducks his head down and captures your lips in a swift kiss, squeezing your hand once more as they pass the entrance upon paying for your tickets. You pass a sign listing the different exhibits that are open right now, including Texas Bayou, Rainforest, and you were especially excited to visit the Stingray Reef, where you could touch live stingrays up close.

The air was cool, even slightly salty upon walking inside. The soft hum and sputtering of the pumps and filters taking care of the different tanks played in the background of children laughing and giggling. The tanks were clear, supported by vibrant backdrops. Your eyes skated from one attraction to the other, seeing fish of varying sizes as they glided smoothly like agents of the water.

The further you walked into the aquarium, the farther you were away from the rambunctious children where you had more of the open glass to yourself. Joel’s own eyes were filled with a certain whimsicalness that can only be found in the eyes of a child, wonder and amazement all encapsulated in awestruck stares. No matter how old you get, there are the little things that fascinate just about anyone. For some people, it was fireworks or artwork that sparked that feeling in your chest. For you and Joel, perhaps it’s being this close to a giant fucking shark.

“Holy shit,” Joel muttered, your own eyes widening as a large, slow-moving shark swam in front of you and Joel. Their grayish-brown exterior caught your eye. They looked a little scary, snaggle-toothed with multiple layers of teeth. But they weren’t scary, they were actually kind of cute.

“Aww,” you cooed as you stepped closer, gently bringing your hand up to the cool glass as another friend swam by. Joel wanders to the plaque for information, reading silently for a few moments before he decides to read some fun facts aloud for you to hear.

“Found in temperate and subtropical waters around the world… known for their... unique reproductive strategy? What the f-...” a group of kids run by, halting Joel from swearing. Their light-up shoes make the hallway glow.

You stifle a laugh and move closer, narrowing your eyes in the dark light. “Unique reproductive strategy called intra... intrauterine cannibalism? What the hell?”

“-Where the embryo consumes its smaller siblings in the womb, ensuring the strongest offspring survives.” Joel cocks his eyebrow like he’s impressed by the unbirthed shark's ferocity. “Damn.”

“You two sort of look alike.” You sneer, which makes him whip his head in your direction. “Maybe you guys should grab beers after this. You’d have a lot to talk about.”

Joel purses his lips and crosses his arms, shaking his head shamefully at you. “Looks like someone’s not pettin’ the stingrays no more.”

“You would never.” You gasp playfully as wrap your arm around his waist while he settles his around the tops of your shoulders. You walk out of the shark tank hallway and back into the open aquarium.

“I will if you compare me to that shark who eats its own siblings in the womb again.”

The line to pet and feed the stingrays was long. It was easily the most popular attraction at the aquarium. The line was bustling with children tugging on their mother’s hands, impatient with the time it was taking to meet them.

“Ocean pancakes.” You whisper, feeling your stomach swirl with nerves but also excitement.

Joel furrows his eyebrows, mouth flat. “What?”

“Ocean pancakes. The stingrays. They’re the ocean’s pancakes. Flat boys. Cute grey flat boys.” You’re close enough to the tank now that you can see the stingrays glide gracefully through the water. Your heart swells with eagerness, absentmindedly holding Joel’s hand tighter.

He blinks a few times dramatically before looking around. “Are you having a stroke? What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

“We’re next!” You say as you tug him forward. He has this look of hesitancy on his face and takes a step away from the line.

“Joel?” You ask, and he shakes his head and shrugs, shoving his hands in the front pocket of his denim jeans.

“No.”

You scoff. “No, what?”

He shrugs again and juts out his jaw to the side in contemplation. You take his silence as an answer enough.

“Are you scared?”

A slight angry expression crosses his pretty features. You cock your eyebrow and cross your arms. You move to step out of line, but he quickly extends his hand out to your shoulder, stopping you.

“Where you goin’? You’ve haven’t stopped talkin’ about the stingrays since we got here.”

“I don’t want to do it without you. Want you to experience this with me. Joel, please.”

Joel holds his breath for a moment before he lets out a long sigh. He flares his nostrils but eventually joins you back in line. You couldn’t believe he was scared. You didn’t know him to be fearful of anything.

“This is just how Irwin went.”

“What?”

“Nothin’. I’ll give ‘em a little pet, but I ain’t feedin’em.”

You’re the first of you and Joel to step forward to the attendant, who greeted you with a tired smile. Poor guy, he was probably here all day having to take care of the energetic children. You had to wash your hands before visiting the stingrays. They gave you these little fish to feed the stingrays. The attendant explained that the stingrays’ mouths were on the underside of their bodies. He dunks his hand into the tank and shows you how to feed them in a way that keeps your fingers away from their mouths. One hungry stingray comes right up and scoops it out of his hand, making you grin widely. Your heart raced with excitement, nodding your head as you demonstrated the proper feeding technique.

With your hand shoved in the water, you and Joel waited patiently. They were a little shy at first, but soon, one started to swim in your direction. It was a beautiful little thing, grey and flapping its sides to skim closer to the surface. It nibbled on the fish before taking it with them, chomping on it in the water as it went.

Joel smiled widely, his body hunched over the tank as he watched them.

“Go ahead and pet this guy,” the attendant said as one affectionately came up to just below the surface. You flattened your hand and let your fingers skim its backside. It was cool and cold, smooth even.

“Come on, Joel, you next.” You said as you brought your hand out and wiped it on a towel. Joel stared at the water for a few moments before he cleared his throat and put a hesitant hand inside. Your head nestles affectionately against his arm, watching the stingrays avoid Joel at first.

“What did you say about relaxing again?” You teasingly whispered, feeling his shoulders bunch as he sighed. Before all hope was lost, the same one who looked for pets from you came swimming towards Joel. It went slow, allowing Joel’s fingers to gently cascade down the glorious fish’s back. You watched his smile glow. The feeling was indescribable, doing something like that for the first time.

“Thanks, folks, enjoy the rest of the aquarium.”

After washing your hands of the fish smell, you and Joel toured the rest of the aquarium until the evening. You stopped at the small gift shop, and Joel bought you a stingray stuffed animal. You held it to your chest and smiled, adoring its soft fluffiness and the fat plush.

“You don’t have to get me this. Stuff is so expensive here for no reason.” You whisper, running your thumb along its cheek.

“Ocean pancake.” He mutters before paying for the overpriced stuffie with a little smile.

Joel couldn’t stop gushing about the aquarium the entire drive back to the motel, specifically about getting to touch the stingrays. You watched with a certain twinkle in your eye from the passenger seat, the sun setting around your head, illuminating you like an angel.

“My heart, it was racin’ back there. I mean, how often do ya get to go ahead and pet ‘em, y’know? It was so outside of my-my comfort zone, I never would have done that in a million years if it wasn’t for you.” He pauses and catches your eyes. He stares longingly for as much as he can before he has to turn his attention back to the road.

There was that funny feeling. That maybe you guys were more. Like a couple. You flinch and look away, bombarded by your own thoughts. You’re only here for the summer. The years between you two were problematic at best. Imagine what your parents would say, what Sarah would think. You don’t have damn near anything in common. But you liked him. God, did you like him.

You clear your throat as you open your phone for the first time all day. The last thing you had open was your message from Nathan.

Heard you’re in Danbury for the summer with your folks. Wanna catch up?

Glancing over to Joel, your fingers hesitate over the phone’s keyboard before typing in a response.

Yeah! I’m out of town this weekend, but maybe when I get back?

You suck in on the side of your cheek, finding yourself turning away from Joel to read over your messages. It’s been so long since you last saw Nathan in person. Your childhood was filled with him and your summers together in Danbury.

From going to the county fair together and riding all the rides until you were sick from the fair food or watching the fireworks from the lake’s edge. The town barbeque that your mother spent weeks perfecting her dish to contribute. The fourth of July was only a week and a half away, the summer was breezing through so quickly. And this time, Nathan would be here for it, too.

Your phone buzzes once again.

I’ll see you then

A burst of courage ran through your veins. You wanted to ask Joel what this was, if it was anything. Your time together had been so short, barely a month, but you’d known him forever. And these last few years, you had only grown closer. You part your lips to speak, but Joel beats you to it.

“After this summer. What’s next?”

Admittedly, you were now at a loss for words. Your uncertainty fazed him. What was he expecting you to say? What did he want?

You sigh and drop your chin, stroking the stuffie in your lap for comfort.

“I don’t know yet, Joel. Now that I’ve graduated, I can say I don’t really want to move back home.” You scoff playfully, an anxious feeling sitting in your chest.

“Home with your parents or home as in Texas?” He probes, no warmth to his face, eyes centered on the road as you left the skyscrapers and high-rise complexes in the rearview mirror. A small pit festered in your abdomen.

“I don’t know.” You say again, softer this time.

Joel doesn’t seem content with your answer. He scoffs quietly under his breath and cocks his eyebrow. His thumbs fiddle against the wheel. He knows you want to travel, knows you want to leave. So why is he asking all of this?

“Only so much of the summer left t’figure it out. I suggest you start thinkin’.”

Your lip snags in a snarl, face pinching as you stare at him.

“You sound like my parents, Joel.”

“Yeah,” he shoots back, quick as a whip. “‘Cause we care about ya. Wanna know where you’re headin’ with your life. Need some direction.”

The muscle behind his jaw twitches, but he stares straight ahead while you stare at him. A pile of bricks rests on your chest, the seemingly safe temple you had built with Joel all came crumbling down around you.

“You’re not supposed to put this type of pressure on me, I’m allowed time to figure it out.”

“You had four years of time at university. Now is when you should start having a plan.” His hand bangs against the steering wheel in frustration as he pulls into the motel’s lot.

Emotions are high and they’re getting the best of you. You throw up your wall of defenses, just like you had used once upon a time with your mother on multiple occasions.

“I’m not like everyone else, Joel, I need more time. And maybe I need to see a few things and experience more before I figure out what that is!” You snap, crossing your arms and staring out the window, your chest tight. “Such a fuckin’ hypocrite you are. You told me to trust myself, and I’m trying.”

He scoffs quietly and shakes his head. “Not hard enough.”

Hot tears brim the edges of your eyes. A perfect day spoiled by this hurtful conversation. Your sneakers scuff the pavement, slamming his truck door as you rush inside with the key. Shaky breaths leave you as you grab Joel’s duffel bag off the spare bed and toss it to the one you both slept in last night and spent the morning in. You change into your pajamas in the bathroom, face hot and filled with rage and sadness. You can’t seem to stop the tears that spill.

Where did that conversation come from? Why did he have to ruin what felt so perfect? Just when you thought you were starting to feel something, Joel’s boot smothered the flames.

He didn’t come inside, not right away. Gave you both some time to feel the weight of everything. You had your back to the door, your teary face buried into the pillow when he did finally return to the room. His boots thud against the carpet, nearing closer to where you lay. The bed dips where your knees are, his warm presence making you whimper. He smells like cigarettes and pool chlorine. He must have been sitting outside this whole time, filled with his thoughts like you were filled with your own.

Joel’s hesitant hand rests on your hip, gently stroking his thumb across the material of an all too familiar Longhorns tee. You softly tug the covers up to your chin and sniffle, clenching your eyes closed tighter.

His head drops, and he sighs weakly. “Never wanted t’make ya cry, sweet girl. M’sorry.”

You shake your head weakly, eyes still closed, afraid to look him in the eyes. Afraid to feel for him. The moment you open yours, you know you’ll melt into his mahogany warmth and forget anything he ever did to make you so upset.

He lets out a shaky breath, his hand moving up to gently cradle your head. Your lips part, bleary eyes finally opening to see his puppy dog face. His jaw shifts; he wants to speak but can’t find the right words. Your eyes plead for him. Say something, Joel. You’re losing me.

A lump grows in your throat, and hot tears start to sting again. You thought you couldn’t cry anymore, that you had run dry. But seeing him again and all the tangled emotions you felt for him reignites the fuel.

He can’t look at you crying. He focuses on your hand, your delicate fingers fisting the bedsheets that you cradled to your chin. The shield between you and Joel. He doesn’t want you to feel like you need a shield, he’s your shield. Sworn to protect you, care for you in times of need. Never let you down.

“Please, angel.” He whispers, one of your tears meeting his warm palm as his hand moves to cup your jawline.

With a shaky breath, you slowly sit up, messy strands tucked behind your ear as you reveal you’ve been holding onto the stingray stuffie under the covers.

After a pause, seeing you sit up straight and face him. He forces himself to find his words.

“I feel more for you than I know I should.” Joel stumbles, licks his lips, and continues warily. “And I know I'm not good at showin' it, but you make me wanna try. And I know ya might wanna leave. I don’t wanna stop ya. But I’m a selfish man when it comes to you. I like bein' with you.”

Your lower lip wobbles and your heart feels torn open to see Joel bare his soul to you, when to so many he's a tall stubborn oak. You let out a shaky breath as he continues.

“This thing between us, what I feel for you, it’s new. And I’m just a fool tryin’ to make sense of it all. I don’t know if you feel the same way,”

Your body slowly crawls into his lap, and you weakly cup his cheeks, stubble scratching at your soft palms. Losing yourself in his eyes, in his broken face, admiring all the little details up close. He’s torn, torn between loving you and letting you live.

You plant a chaste kiss on his parted lips and taste him slowly as the two of you melt together again. You wrap your arms around his neck and hug him tight, legs curled up in his lap as he holds you back just as tight. Your fingers weave helplessly into his longer curls. He’s so familiar, warm, gentle with you. He cares about you. He finally said it.

After a moment, you find your voice.

“If you hold me without hurting me, you’ll be the first who ever did.” It’s more whimpery than you had hoped, but it makes Joel hold you closer, yet with such delicacy. Like he doesn’t want you to shatter from his own devices.

Your face buries into his neck, smelling distant cologne and cigarettes. His large hand cradles the back of your head, keeping you with him, letting your racing heartbeats settle together.

“I’ll never hurt you, angel.” It’s laced with promise. You hope it’s true.

hellishjoel masterlist | notifications blog

#joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #tlou #tlou fic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #hellishjoel #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller

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eternal-kosmo-ghoul · 1 year ago

Note

Gimme your most stupid ghoul headcanons possible, like Sodo is scared of idk dust particles or something funny.

“silly ghoul headcanons”

Synopsis: It’s in the title you silly goose. Just the ghouls with their silly little shenanigans

Pairing: Nameless ghouls (platonic or romantic) x GN!reader (they/them)

Theme: fluff ✿ , crack ✦

A/N: Heres my first fanfic to my Ghost blog! I gotta thank my bestie for making this request despite the silliness in it. I hope you guys enjoy it because I certainly had fun writing it. I might make a separate version for the ghoulettes cause I love my girlies <33

I also decided to add Aether in this one cuz I love him, remember to respect both him and Phantom as ppl because we don’t support that negativity and hate 🫡

TW: Swiss and Sodo joke about sex but it’s because they’re Swiss and Sodo

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Sodo, oh dear Sodo. He can be such a silly ghoul sometimes

He likes to act like he’s all tough and that he’s hot shit, but some of his habits you can’t help but laugh at

For starters, Sodo is the type of ghoul to be scared of really dumb stuff. Take hamsters for example

Sodo has this really inexplainable fear of hamsters. One day you picked up a cute little hamster from the pet store, and he hissed and erupted in flames the moment you brought it near him

“Sodo its just a hamster—“

“GET THAT THING’S FILTHY PAWS AWAY FROM ME.”

Aether once pranked him by putting a bunch of hamsters in his closet and he let out the most unmanly scream ever, it was funny

Oh and we all know Sodo has a habit of slapping people’s asses

It’s basically his trademark at this point

But there was this one particular time where he tried to slap your ass, but he somehow missed and accidentally slapped Copia’s ass instead

Needless to say, he spent a good while trying to explain to the unamused Papa that he didn’t mean to slap him, but the other pair of cheeks that was in front of him in that moment

He once played Five Nights At Freddy’s and he had nightmares about Freddy for a whole week

No joke, he once thought that Swiss was Freddy because he was so disoriented from a previous nightmare and he socked the poor guy in the nose

You forced him to apologize to Swiss after that

I imagine he’s also the type of ghoul to write stupid little messages and graffiti with a sharpie on his fellow ghouls faces

He once made you help him literally knock out Aether just so he could write “number one cocksucker” in big bold letters on his forehead

Needless to say, you two got chased around by the angry ghoul who was holding a fly swatter for a whole ten minutes

Also we all know damn well this man has a dirty mind

Like have you seen him on stage? Of course he does

He has a habit of slipping in sexual jokes and in innuendos every now and then, because he snickers when seeing people’s reactions

Though there was this one time where he made a comment about your ass and he got slapped across the face

Idk Sodo has a weird obsession with your ass

He has toned down on the jokes, but that doesn’t stop him from slipping up every now and then. And it’s quite obvious he won’t stop with those jokes anytime soon

Rain is such a sweetie and we all know that

But sometimes he can be a little bit of a menace, even to you and his fellow bandmates

To start things off, we all know Rain is a clumsy little guy

Like he’s a walking talking disaster with trails of chaos in his wake. He can hold a glass for someone and drop it like not even ten seconds later

Well there was this one time where you were giving him strumming techniques for the next upcoming ritual

Sodo tapped him on the shoulder from behind to ask him for something. When Rain turned around he accidentally slapped Sodo in the face with the neck of his bass guitar

Sodo then stumbled back in pain and literally destroyed Mountain’s drum set. You were just standing there processing what just happened, and Copia just looked… disappointed.

Rain also collects a lot of plushies

He has a literal pile of squishmallows in the corner of his room. Sometimes he likes to bury himself in that little nook of his room.

He made a little pillow fort in that area for him to snuggle in. Sometimes he’ll invite you to come and watch movies with him in there

However he once impulsively bought so many plushies so they were all flooding his room. You opened the door to his room and they all came flooding out, with a very euphoric Rain on top of them

“…. Rain what are you doing?”

“Feeling great. Thank you, Y/N.”

You helped him organize all of those little plushies in his room afterwards, even giving some of them to Phantom (who was new at the time) as a little “welcome home” gift

As a water ghoul, Rain naturally enjoys water

However he has this really cute habit of splashing around in pools/tubs like he’s a bird in a birdbath, but he gets embarrassed about this fact because the ghouls tease him for it

You once caught him playing around in the a storm in such a manner, it was so cute seeing him so happy and enjoying himself

The minute he spotted you, he immediately got all embarrassed and shy, but you reassured him it was all good and that it was fine to be excited about water

Needless to say, he’s a lot more comfortable showing off that side to you now

Oh Mountain. Sweet sweet darling Mountain

Like Rain, Mountain is a sweetie. However he tends to have his silly moments.

I’d like to imagine that Mountain often bumps his head on doorframes or walks

The fucker is really tall, I mean it’s hard to not hit something along the way.

So he has a habit of sticking his hand over his forehead to avoid bumping into anything, the poor guy

I’d also like to imagine that Mountain had that light skin stare

Like he doesn’t even mean to look creepy. He just… has a habit of zoning out, so therefore he looks like he’s staring into your soul

Though this does make him really good at staring contests. One time Swiss challenged him, and they lasted for ten minutes

Swiss needed eye drops after that

Also he deadass looks like a sleep paralysis demon when he stands

One night you couldn’t sleep so you went to the kitchen to get something to eat. Mountain happened to hear the noise your footsteps were making, so he went to check up on you

He was just standing in the doorframe… staring at you, making sure you were okay while you grabbed something from the fridge

Needless to say, when you turned around, you dropped Swiss’s leftover cheesecake you were gonna eat upon seeing the tall earth ghoul in the doorframe

Also your scream was loud as FUCK

“MOUNTAIN WHAT IN HELL— YOU ALMOST GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK! Why didn’t you say anything!?”

“… I don’t know. At least you’re okay.”

He apologized to you afterwards and promised to not accidentally spook you. Because for a moment you swore you saw the hat man

Mountain also rarely gets mad, the dude is as passive as a sheep

But the moment he gets angry… hide your children

The dude is scary as hell. Like, he’s even got Papa on his knees begging for mercy

There was one particular day during practices where Sodo and Aether were arguing a little too much. It’s normal for them to banter, but this particular day was getting out of hand

Everyone was already getting upset with them, even with Papa telling the two ghouls you knock it off, but of course they wouldn’t

Well, they didn’t until a drum from Mountain’s drum set came hurling towards both ghouls. Making the fire ghoul and quintessence ghoul yelp and duck instinctively

No one had noticed the fuming earth ghoul sitting in the corner up until that point. Everyone was speechless. Your jaw was on the floor even

Needless to say, Mountain apologized yet again, but now everyone knew not to fuck with Mountain after that

Swiss is an… interesting specimen.

For starters he was accidentally summoned,

He was summoned at the same time as Aether. And they bonked heads upon getting summoned

It was rather funny seeing Papa being so confused as to why the ritual spell summoned two ghouls, and seeing said two ghouls yell at each other for bonking heads

But it all worked out because after Swiss showed off that he can literally do fucking anything, Papa just let him stay

And Swiss was the perfect flare of spice to add to Ghost, and he’s a sweet ghoul to be around

But that doesn’t stop him from being a literal menace to society

Swiss has a really strange habit of breaking into people’s rooms and just jumping on their beds to wake them up

All while he’s obnoxiously telling them to get up, much to the other’s annoyance

You once threw him across the room for waking you up, and Swiss was just laughing so hard on the floor when he saw your reaction

Since he’s quite literally known as the Swiss Army Ghoul, he’s good at almost everything.

Including cooking. He likes to cook a lot of meals for the people living in the ministry

Bro even has a stereotypical pink “kiss the cook” apron, he got it as a birthday gift from you

But the “cook” part is crossed out with a red sharpie and instead Swiss replaced with “dick”

Why? Because it’s fucking Swiss.

He also made it a point to bake everyone’s birthday cakes, but he’ll slip in something stupid to be funny

One time Cirrus was cutting her birthday cake and she got a whole ass doll head in there, which left her very confused

Swiss isn’t allowed to make people’s birthday cakes anymore because of that

Also sometimes Swiss will get high out of nowhere

No one knows what the fuck he’s doing because this ghoul is all over the place, but when he’s high he says the most out of pocket stuff

There was this one time he messaged the ghoul group chat while taking an edible saying “this edible is weak as shit.”

But then right after that message, he attached a picture of you and sent it with the caption “I’ve always wanted to fuck them.”

You could hear Sodo’s laughter from his room after that.

And when Swiss got sobered up, you asked him about the message, but bro literally refuses to acknowledge he sent it

“Swiss did you send that message from earlier—“

“No.”

“Then who did?”

“The hat man.”

“THE WHAT MAN?!”

“Oh so this suddenly isn’t a safe space?”

Ah Aether. We all love Aether. I mean who doesn’t?

We all know how much of a little psycho Aether can be, but he’s a lovable psycho that just exerts a lot of fun energy

That doesn’t stop him from being a little fucker however

He likes to pull a lot of pranks with Swiss, Sodo unfortunately being his main target

So there was this one time he asked you to help him prank the poor fire ghoul, and you said yes because you felt like messing with Sodo

(And also partly because you were kinda pissed with him due to the fact that he ate your leftovers)

So the prank was to put a bunch of sticky notes in Sodo’s room that all read “big cock energy” (because of course it did)

However during the process of putting the sticky notes in the room, Sodo walked in on two idiotic fools, those fools being you and Aether of course

And it’s safe to say that for a solid twenty minutes, the two of you were running around the ministry with an angry flaming fire ghoul hot on your trail, giggling like little children

(Sodo spared you, but Aether wasn’t so lucky)

“SODO PLEASE SPARE ME— WHY SPARE Y/N?!?!!”

“Because I hate them less than you, NOW C’MERE—“

Aether once fell asleep with a rotten ass banana peel

Like no joke— you once walked in his room to ask for something and his whole room STANK of rancid and rotten banana

And Aether was just sitting there, confused as to why you looked like you were about to throw up on his bedroom floor

Rain had to fucking disinfect the room (with a gas mask because it smelled that bad)

Oh and you Rain breaks things? Aether is so much worse

He once tried to clean up Swiss’s mic stand for an upcoming tour and the damn thing just- fell apart

Swiss was more bewildered than upset, because how in hell does that happen?

You literally do not let him touch your equipment because he’s gonna somehow find a way to break it all

When Aether departed from Ghost you were very sad

But then he messaged the group chat with this message “I’ll miss all of you fuckers. Be nice to the new ghoul, love all of you <33 (except for you Sodo, fuck you)”

Sodo then bursted out of his room tackling Aether, but it was more so out of love rather than being an ass

Needless to say, you all still keep in touch with Aether

Phantom!!! We all love Phantom here

Since he was newer and the one of the more recently summoned ghouls, he had a hard time fitting in

But you and the other ghouls thankfully made him feel welcome, even if it took a little more time for some other ghouls to get used to him

And because of that, it didn’t take long for Phantom to start joking in the ghoul chaos

He is literally a walking meme

Phantom is the type of guy to quote old vines and also keep up with any meme trends

Part of being the youngest ghoul I guess

He often confuses Papa with his little antics (because he’s an old man), and you’re just silently laughing at Papa’s reactions to Phantom

Also Phantom has a habit of holding things weirdly

You thought it was just his guitar? Bestie no, the dude is holding things the wrong way all the time but still somehow makes it work

Like— he holds onto a pen like it’s about to grow a pair of legs and run out of his hand, but he still somehow has the most beautiful cursive handwriting there is

“…. Phantom— what are you doing? You’re holding that pen like it’s a—“

“Hush, Y/N. I’m writing everything I want for Christmas this year.”

Phantom can also be a bit of a nerd sometimes

Like— you know those kids in school that are so dorky and have that awkward teenager energy? But you can’t be annoyed at them because they’re so cute? Yeah, that’s Phantom

Man’s will ramble about the most nerdy thing so passionately that you can’t help but listen, it’s cute seeing him get all excited over… legos or something

Oh and if someone dares to insult his passion he will spread legos all over their room

(Poor Swiss was a victim of that unfortunately)

Oh yeah he almost once accidentally vacuumed Copia’s pet rat

The dude was just trying to clean up his room, and one of the little fuckers scurried in his room, and the rat’s tail got stuck in the vacuum

Phantom’s high pitched scream upon realization was enough to have you bolting in the room to check in on the poor ghoul

And you were met with the sight of Phantom desperately trying to pull out a screaming rat from the vacuum while the ghoul was on the verge of tears because he didn’t want to get scolded

You ended up helping him because no one wants to see Phantom sad

And it’s safe to say Copia now has one pet rat with no tail.

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mothiepixie · 7 months ago

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Something I'm curious about, do you have any head canons about soulbonding? If so, who would Motti have soulbonded with? 💜💙💚💛🧡❤️

Sorry for taking so long to answer! I hope you enjoy! I kinda got carried away ahaha

Soulbonding is an ancient and intimate affair and rarely practiced in modern day, but it is considered the highest form of trust and some would say it transcends usual bonds. Once soul bonded; the individuals can experience a merge of memories, feelings, etc. It can also extend or decrease one’s life to the corresponding partner who initiated the act, thus the individuals can live their life as long as their chosen partners.

Although soulbonding is a form of strong magic, it can also be broken. However, the individual(s) will experience a sense of intense loss and an emptiness that may never be filled. The reason being is when the soulbond happens it creates an invisible “string" to the respective partners. If the “string” is broken the merge isn’t completely severed, and the missing specs will constantly call out to each other. It’s one of the reasons why it's not a common practice anymore as the few who have broken the bond cannot stand the feeling.

If a partner were to pass away by unnatural means, the bonded individual(s) would also experience an intense sense of loss and most do not come back from that. Especially for monsters; their hope would drop to practically nothing and eventually the grief would cause them to dust. Most bonded individual(s) will age and pass away alongside each other.

Soulbonding isn’t reserved for just romantic partners as many platonic individuals can bond. In ancient times it was a great way for members of armies/guilds/party members to better fight alongside each other, and if ever lost in battle the bond acts like a beacon. This was only done with close and trusted parties though.

But as monsters were cast underground, and times became more modernized it wasn’t really necessary to continue that kind of practice. (Depending on the AU, monsters became pacifists or many lost trust in others to bond). The history behind soulbonding eventually died for humans as well once the monsters were no longer on the surface.

Who would soulbond:

Boysen: However, this would be many years down the line and the thought of Motti aging and dying without him would definitely have him initiate the bond. (He would actually dust if Motti were to pass away, his HP just couldn’t bear the loss regardless bonded or not.)

Passive Nightmare: Even without soulbonding he is so deeply attached to Motti, and vice versa, that he could not even bear the thought of losing her. He is willing to let Motti initiate the act, but Motti would rather he do it so they could make up for all the tragedies they suffered. (I guess Motti would become immortal if that’s the case)

Farmer: A country man stands by his partner through and through, and given Motti’s life span being shorter than his, he would think about it for a good long while before having the discussion with her. Mainly it would be because he doesn’t want her to feel pressured into something like that and if she ever would want to leave, he’d like her to have that choice. But boy, he would be over the moon when she agrees.

Blue: This monster loves long and hard. He would not think twice about approaching the subject and offering it to Motti. There will be a discussion of who will initiate the act, but Blue would 100% be okay with either decision.

Who would be apprehensive:

Sans: While he would never let anyone know or show it, he is scared by the prospect that if he bonded with Motti and something were to happen to her; he knows he will dust instantaneously. He most likely will never approach the subject to her and would hope that no one ever mentions to Motti about it.

Dream: He already has commitment issues and is already overwhelmed with his powers of empathy. It makes sense that soulbonding may even be a more exhausting and stressful experience. It took him years to accept that Motti’s feelings were genuine and not a by-product of his powers, so the thought of bonding to a degree could be more harmful to his psyche than good.

Horror: He actually leans into being apprehensive to not even consider it, but he would be lying if he said the thought never occurred to him. Especially when he is in a good head space, he does fantasize what a nice domestic life would be like with Motti, but he would eventually convince himself that’s just a pipe dream. Although if Motti showed genuine interest/want, he just may be persuaded.

Who would not:

Big Red: That’s far too intimate and scary, he already cannot handle his emotions as is and his trauma would make him scared to bond with Motti. He may just dust on the spot if something ever happened to her.

Killer: It’s already hard for Motti to discern if his affection comes from a genuine place to begin with and even for Killer that may be a step he has never considered.

Dust: He has experienced far too much trauma and his brother haunting him does not help in the slightest. He already knows what it is like to have someone’s feelings and influence hanging over his head and he would never want to subject Motti to his warped mind and soul.

Ink: He doesn’t have a soul to bond with, but he may play with the idea by using physical strings if Motti were to bring it up. He doesn’t really understand the idea or appeal, but he likes the thought of crafting an idea.

Nightmare: He doesn’t really have much of a soul to begin with, but even so Motti would not entertain the idea if she knows she’ll feel what he feels. (Him embodying all negative emotions and enjoying it is not a good time in Motti’s eyes)

#mothie talks #sanses x motti #sanses x oc #soulbond #soulbond headcanons #mothie's headcanons

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mikimakiboo · 15 days ago

Text

Time Travelers AU - The Night Sky Is Filled With Gay Thoughts

This one is shorter than the other chapters but I really felt like Nightmare's gay panic deserved its own chapter lmao

First

@ancha-aus your seat is reserved

We entering Nightmare's bitch arc ya'll

Tw: some slightly suggestive talk but nothing serious happens, self hatred of course as I am physically unable to write about Nightmare without adding angst

The moon was so high in the sky, everyone was sleeping. Everyone one except Nightmare, he had been unwell all day, since Horror came back from his hunt, he had found himself spacing out, not responding to either Killer nor Dust when they tried talking to him, having trouble concentrating enough to translate, and totally unable to look at Horror in the eyesockets. Now he was laying on his back, on the couch, staring at the ceiling.

What happened ? He had felt weird all afternoon, starting when Horror came back. He should have been horrified, the Viking came back covered in blood, holding a dead body on his shoulder, his stained weapon still in his hand. It has truly been an unsettling sight to see. He had put his axe, his blood stained axe, right next to Nightmare, and he had looked at him, planting his gaze in his, and Nightmare couldn't look anywhere else. Had he been scared ? Of course he had been scared, what kind of brute brought back his pray like that ? Still dripping with blood and without washing at least his hands ? But, he felt something new when his gaze met Horror's gaze...

He saw this brute, this man, holding a full corpse on his shoulder like it was a feather, covered in sweat and blood that wasn't his, his large hands holding an axe that looked no less heavy but that he manipulated with ease. And he felt his soul burn. He didn't know if his cheeks blushed, but he felt his whole body become hotter. When Horror left to cook he didn't know what to do, and Killer's staring at him with his grin didn't help him sort out his thoughts.

He couldn't think at all for the whole day, not participating in conversations during meals, he did his best not to look at the Viking, not to think about his hands, damaged by a hard life, about his muscular arms that could brobaly break him in half if he wanted to, hold him down and he wouldn't be able to move.

Nightmare shifted on the couch, turning his back to the living room, thinking about Horror above him and holding him down surprisingly didn't help calm his already racing soul.

Why did he feel so hot when thinking about the giant ? He shouldn't feel that way, Horror was a Viking, a brute who's only passtime was pillaging villages, killing men and kidnapping women for their own pleasure, there was nothing admirable in that. Really, thinking about Horror entering his home, breaking his belongings and take him away to keep him as a prize, a trophy, was truly terrifying. And yet he felt his face burn at the thought of being taken by him, preciously kept away as a fancy war prize for only Horror to touch and see.

That wasn't right. Horror could kill him, or worse, he could do unspeakable horrors to him, make him uffer, torture him mentally and physically, then tend to his wounds to ensure he wouldn't die, keep him safe from other pillagers, dress him with riches to show off to the other Vikings, tell him he is his and his alone, that no one else would ever put their filthy hands on him...

Nightmare got up. He needed water. He went to the bathroom, feeling like he would faint at any moment with the heat in his body. He watched the water flow for a few seconds before taking some in his hands to splash on his face until he felt cooler. He stayed bent over the sink for a while before standing straight and looking at himself in the mirror. His brother would probably laugh if he was there. Seriously, how pathetic could he be ? Losing his composure like that like he was some young lady fresh out of the coven discovering what temptation was ? He shouldn't feel that way ! He was a noble man ! He went back to lay on the couch.

He had a future planned for him, he couldn't allow himself to be distracted like that, he had to marry a noble woman, a lady with the same rank as him, and give her kids to ensure the continuity of his prestigious bloodline. That was what every noble did, that was what his mother did, what she had told him to do before passing away. He had to marry someone rich and full of virtue, love wasn't even on the table, you didn't marry out of love. His mother didn't marry out of love, there had never been any love in anything she had done, from marrying to having children, she had done everything because it was her purpose as a noble woman, not once had she felt any love for them, for her husband for whom she didn't cry at his funeral and for her two children whom she always let her servants take care of. That was just how things were supposed to work. That was what Nightmare, and Dream, were supposed to do, their glorious future.

And yet he found himself dreaming for more, dreaming of love, passion, of someone to hold tight and to be held tight by, someone to tell him he would be okay, that he didn't have to marry anyone he didn't want to, that he could let his heart chose. He tried so hard to make the wedding happen as late as possible, finding excuses to refuse the many proposals he received. He was so scarred of marriage. He didn't know why it scarred him so much, he knew he would still be free, that it was only for business purposes, that he wouldn't have to pretend to love his wife and she wouldn't have to pretend to love him either, but he would still have obligations that came with marriage. Children were a big part of this. He didn't dislike children, but he knew he would have to be intimate, he wasn't stupid, he knew how that worked, but he couldn't imagine himself doing.... that, with a woman... It was right but it felt wrong, it was the natural order of things but it didn't feel natural to him. Sure he could lie and say either him or his wife was infertile and that was why they couldn't have children, but lying about that wouldn't bring any good to their reputation, and reputation was important. No, he couldn't lie, but he couldn't do that either. It just didn't feel right...

And when he saw Horror bent over him, when he imagined him holding him, taking him away from everything he knew and making him his... everything had felt so right, so natural. He wanted him, he wanted him so bad. He didn't want to marry a woman, but he wanted to be Horror's prize, he wanted to be his precious thing, he wanted him to rock his world and softly kiss him, to tell him he could have hundreds just like him but he was the only one for him. He wanted this wicked romance. He wanted the harsh and he wanted the soft. Horror was soft. Soft and patient. He was careful around them, respected boundaries, brought back food, didn't have any vile intentions, he was only looking to care for them, for Dust particularly, as he was their unfortunate host with not enough means to provide for everyone. He was a gentle giant. A gentle giant with great strenght. Nightmare wanted that.

He hated himself for wanting that. His mother would have hated him too if she was still alive. She had always hated him anyways. He shouldn't feel that. It wasn't proper for a noble. He was such a disgrace, a pathetic excuse of a noble, no wonder he always felt out of place among his pairs, he couldn't do things right, he couldn't even feel right.

He grabbed a pillow to press it against his chest, laying down facing the back of the couch. He wanted to dissapear, to go back home and never see any of them ever again, to talk to his brother, Dream always knew what to do, he was always right, never out of place, he was everything Nightmare wasn't. But he wasn't there, and Nightmare was alone to face these atrocious feelings.

He hated it. He hated Horror for making him feel so good and so bad at the same time and he hated himself for allowing these feelings to take roots in his soul and for feeding them with his overthinking.

He just hated himself so much right now. He hated how he felt and he hated that he was crying again. It was the only thing he was good at sometimes. Crying.

He was pathetic.

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libraryraccoon · 9 months ago

Note

Write of a raccoon like a actual raccoon ending up in hell and terrorizing every citizen in hell, and finding some roadroller and it becomes even worse demons homes aren’t only being trashed and torn into pieces and some how Hazbin Hotel is still standing ( it’s because of Nifty scaring them off some how ) The hotel business starts off booming. Sinners rejoice your redemption is far from the ever so crazy Raccoon! Wait till the Duck comes in… >:)

Gender : Raccoon

Pronouns : They/them

Message from Raccoon : That give me idea for a Raccoon!Reader meeting IMP..

General Headcanon

You were a good thief, really good.

But one day, you were betrayed.

You were robbing the world's largest bank, but your partner in crime, Timothy, betrayed you by shooting you.

You didn't really understand why, you never had an explanation, but you suspect that he was working with the Police in secret.

Anyway, you're dead.

Welcome to Hell ! And you're… a raccoon ?

No, like, a real raccoon. The little thing that digs through trash cans.

Holy shit.

Vox was broadcasting his usual show, when he had to interrupt it because there was a turf war led by a raccoon ?

He never thought he would see a real raccoon in Hell, and he never thought he would have to broadcast about them because the raccoon was fighting to be the Overlord of one of the territories.

He could see in the background Angel Dust walking away from the raccoon after seeing them lunge at the face of a snake demon.

Vox quietly wondered if this was all a dream or if he should really be going to Overlord meetings with a raccoon.

Spoiler : he had to.

You injected fear into all the beings of Hell after that, causing chaos.

No one said anything about it, they watched you steal their stuff and their trash but they said nothing.

When Alastor returned, he was NOT expecting to see a raccoon in the Overlords meeting room. Even less so for Carmilla to introduce the said raccoon as the new Overlord.

He made a 404 error.

Alastor saw how everyone else was suspicious or afraid of you, he was wondering who the hell this raccoon is.

You found Alastor interesting.

In the sense that you loved all the chaos he created, so you joined him.

He brought you to the Hotel, wondering what entertainment you would do.

He don't regret it.

You were doing a lot of damage, yes, but it was fun.

One day you drank alcohol at Husk's bar (you stole the bottle when he wasn't watching), and you ended up getting drunk.

Have you ever seen a demon raccoon drunk ? Because the Hazbin Crew did it.

You have fought everyone and destroyed everything you saw.

You were throwing yourself at people's faces like a fucking cat throwing itself at curtains.

It took Vaggie and Charlie spiking you with 16 tranquilizers before you calmed down.

Result of the damage of the hotel : a kitchen destroyed, a living room destroyed, the hall the hotel destroyed, some walls destroyed, the face of Angel Dust and Husk being injured by your claws, Alastor's trench coat in ruins.

And that was just the damage caused to the Hotel, let's not even talk about the rest of Hell..

Lucifer met you when you were in Wrath…

How the hell a sinner found a way to go in the circles other than pride is a mystery without answers.

He asked you, but you just looked at him with completely blank and terrifying eyes. You spoke, but he didn't understand what you were saying, didn't understand the raccoon.

He doesn't even know if you answer or if you were making fun of him.

You have become attached to Lucifer. More precisely his ducks.

Lucifer made a raccoon duck and gave it to you, it's your most precious object since.

Someone must be watching you 24/7 to ensure Hell's survival.

Did I mention the edits about you and the fact that you are a meme in the 7 circles of Hell ?

You hated bald people because Timothy was bald. That's why you attacked Valentino as soon as you saw him.

You 🤝 Niffty = being Valentino's worst nightmares.

Hell wasn't ready for your alliance with Niffty.

Neither was heaven.

Niffty stabbed Adam, you finished him.

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madwomansapologist · 1 year ago

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Hi. Can you write a smut scene between the female reader and my favorite Disney character, Captain Hook from Disney’s Peter Pan 1953 original film that starts with love at first sight please? I have a serious fangirl crush on him.

hooked by you | captain hook

synopsis: It happened. It finally happened. Hook defeated Peter Pan. He saw the silhouette flying above the clouds, readied the modified harpoon that fired a net, and finally managed to catch him! Little did he knew it wasn't Peter Pan.

warnings: DarlingSister!reader. female!reader. porn with plot. love at first sight. mention of erotic literature. that man is possessive. guns. chats about murder.

note: Thanks for your request, darling! I watched it again to write this, and I've just realized it's been almost eight years since I last saw Peter Pan. It was fun. And you made me realize I don't have normal pure thoughts about Hook. Like if I needed another character to be obsessed with. Hope you like it!

After so much screaming and arguing, George and Mary finally left the house. You waved, wished them a good night, and locked the front door. What a mess. All that fuss because of a character from a bedtime story.

You went upstairs and opened the door to your sibilings' room, but the three of them were already asleep. You knew that Wendy didn't want to leave the children's room, you thought that if you talked to her that fear could be eased, but she was already sighing. Maybe tomorrow.

You entered your room and changed into your pearly nightgown. You saw your parents entering a cabriole from the wide window. When they disappeared, you ran into the backyard and released Nana from the leash.

Tomorrow you'll sort it out with your dad. George can be furious, your mom word it as passionate, but deep down he's the most caring father you could wish for. George is always barking, never biting.

And your night would have ended there if you hadn't looked up. You should have seen a starry night. A full moon. But you saw your brothers. Flying.

That's it. You went crazy. Mad. Lunatic.

"Peter, wait!" Michael cry out. "You forgot one sister!"

"Michael?" You shuddered. Insane. Completely insane. "Michael, is that you?"

"Wait a second!" Michael waved the teddy bear at you and disappeared into the sky. After a infinite second, he appeared with something glowing in his hand and flew towards you. "Think happy thoughts," he instructed you.

Then a glittering dust fell on you. You coughed and tried to clear yourself. Crazy. Completely crazy. When you looked down, you saw the ground. Which would be normal. If it wasn't too far away.

Michael took your hand. "I told you Peter Pan existed!"

"Oh. My God." You shouted. "Oh. My God." You were flying! Flying. No. No, you weren't. You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and emptied your mind. When you opened your eyes, you saw the Big Ben. From above. "Oh. My. God."

"Don't be scared." Michael gave you two pats on the back. The same you do when he wakes up from a nightmare. He gave you his teddy bear. You hold onto it like it would protect you from anything. "We are going to Neverland!"

Then Michael flew again. You got to see John and Wendy flying up ahead, along with who could only be Peter Pan. You tried to follow them, but flying was a lot harder than the three of them made it out to be.

It was just a really realistic dream. Just that. A good dream about flying with your siblings.

Hugging the teddy bear, you slowly followed them. You passed chimneys, climbed through clouds, stood over the hands of Big Ben: always a few minutes late in comparison to them. But in the end, even with a lot of fear, you did follow them towards the Second Star to the Right.

Seeing Neverland, you felt butterflies in your stomach. It wasn't madness, it wasn't a dream, it was true. When the four stopped on a cloud, you thought you finally caught up with them.

Then something hit you.

It got tangled up in your body, heavy enough to make you fall. A net pulling you into the sea. You tried to fly, you tried to let go, but the more you moved the more you got tangled up in it.

The net was heavy, pulling you down, but it wasn't a sudden fall. You just couldn't go up. Which didn't mean it was comfortable. Yards and yards of fabric tangled up on you, just weighing you down.

A whirlwind of voices showed you that people were approaching, but you couldn't see anything. You just felt the impact against what must have been the ground. It didn't hurt, but it felt weird to stop flying.

"Finally, Mr. Smee, I will take care of my worthy opponent." You heard a rough, deep voice. People laughed at what he said. "I've waited years for it."

"That's not countin' the holidays, either", Mr. Smee complete. "Aye, there is the knife, Captain."

You tried to let go but only heard a deep chuckle. "Don't be a coward, my old enemy, face your fate." You heard the ripping of ropes. The weight on you began to lift. "Hook defeated you."

The knot holding the hammock came undone, and only then did you realize how much you needed to breathe without pounds of rope over your face. You blinked, the sun blinded you, and the black silhouette in front of you took on color.

And he was beautiful. You've read stories about pirates. Beautiful and funny stories like the ones Wendy shares with her brothers. But also about strong men, who know their ships like the back of their hands, who survive the ravages of the sea and vanquish the mightiest heroes. And you've also read about pirates who knew how to please a woman, dishonest men who kneel in front of their beloved, experienced men doing things girls shouldn't even know exist.

Hook reminded you of the latter type. "Disappointed?", you whispered. After all, it was just a dream.

Hook was frozen in place. Ready to slit Peter's throat and deliver him an honorable death, what was caught in his net was something far different than his little imp.

His heart was pounding so loudly that he almost didn't hear the question asked by the lady in front of him. Disappointed? How could he? You were more beautiful than any mermaid, more graceful than any woman he had ever seen, more delicate than any pearl. Wars would be fought in your honor and that would be the least any man with sense could do.

But his sailors are not known for being sensible.

"Of course we are!" One of them thought he had the right to talk to you. As if it wasn't already a miracle that he could see someone like you. "Where's Peter?"

Then Hook moved. He took the revolver out of his jacket and, without even looking in the direction he was aiming, pulled the trigger. The sailor fell overboard.

"Forgive me", Hook extends his hand to you. "My men don't know how to treat a lady."

You hesitated but accepted the touch. Hook set you on your feet again, more gently than you thought a pirate could display. "Apparently you kidnapped me."

"Aye, this is just a misunderstanding. See, I thought you were Peter Pan. It's not every day you see someone different flying over my ship."

"So... can I leave?" Your feet left the ground. Looks like you were already getting used to this flying thing. "And nothing will happen to me?"

Hook ran his fingers through his hat, a polite smile spreading across his face. "I would never dream of hurting you." Hook gestured toward his office. "May I apologize for the misunderstanding?"

"Apologize?"

"Drinks and conversation." Hook ran his fingers over his face. Good thing Mr. Smee shaved. It would be a horror if the love of his life met him in something other than his best version. "A proper apology."

You wouldn't normally accept such a request. To be alone with an unknown and dangerous man. Drinking with a man! But that was just a dream.

In his room, you floated around looking at the different shelves and finds. A pirate ship! It has so many treasures. "If you had captured Peter, would you have killed him?"

Your question took him by surprise. "That doesn't strike me as a conversation of lady interest."

As you turned, you saw Hook swapping the silver hook for a gold one. You smirked. "I showed interest, didn't I?"

Bossy. Ah, Hook knew you were his soulmate for sure. "I would have. Does that bother you?"

"No." You floated toward him, and sat down on the chair across from the table. Hook poured two glasses of some drink. You took the glass and thanked him, but didn't drink. "After all, this it's nothing but a dream."

"Dream?” Hook chuckled, downing his drink and sitting back in his armchair. “What convinces you of that?”

"I was at home, ready for bed, and suddenly I was flying to Neverland." You shrugged. "Clearly a dream."

Hook understood what was happening. Peter seems to have been confused. You are not a lost child. He never was careful. "I can prove this is not a dream."

"How?"

Hook rose, slowly circling the table. In front of her, he leaned on the wood. "Aren't you going to drink?"

Only then did you remember the glass in your hands. You took a sip, a grimace came over your face. "Strong", you coughed.

"Here's the proof." Hook touched your chin, making you lift your head and look. Only he did it with the golden hook. "Ever felt something like that in a dream?"

You swallowed hard. "No."

"So that means you're alone with the most dangerous pirate on the seven seas, the person who wouldn't have thought twice about slicing someone's throat out, completely helpless." Hook leaned in until he could feel your breath against his face. "Does that bother you?"

"You don't seem interested in ripping my throat out."

He gave you time to walk away. To fly in the direction you wanted. To leave him without saying a single word. Hook gave you time, but you let him kiss you.

He tasted like the rum you ignored. The hook left your chin and slid down to your waist, pulling you toward him. You leaned into his chest, kissing him back. It was so wrong, so unlike anything you would ever do, but it also felt so good.

You pulled away for air, and felt his fingers caressing your cheek. When you opened your eyes, you saw that Hook was smiling. "Do you know how to be silent?" You nodded in agreement. "Excellent."

He lifted you from the chair, and in one swift movement sat you down on the table. Hook was strong. Too strong. He pressed his thumb to your lip, watching you with lust. "You were made for me."

Before you could say anything, Hook knelt. You've read about it in books, but you could never imagine it would be such a satisfying sight. A man so strong, so dangerous, brought to his knees by you.

Hook didn't even bother to remove your nightgown. He just stuck his head between the fabric, desperate to satisfy you. To make you feel the same way he felt about you. To make you scream for him and make everyone understand that you belonged with him.

And so you did. Feeling him delight in your curves, his tongue brushing against your lips, his fingers pressing into your clit. You tried to be silent as he asked, but after a while you stopped worrying about it.

"You..." You didn't even knew what you wanted to say. You just wanted to feel more. To feel completed. To feel more and more of him. "I think I had dreams like that before."

You felt him gasp against your sex. Hook rose, his damp face close to yours, and you felt your face burn. "Haven't I convinced you this isn't a dream yet?"

His fingers explored your lips again, applying just the right pressure. You moaned against his lips, Hook squeezed his eyes shut. "What else do I have to do to convince you?"

You smiled. "I think you know what you need to do."

He bit your lip. "As you wish."

His fingers entered you. Slowly, carefully, but no less willingly. He filled you, long fingers repeatedly penetrating your insides, and you were unable to do anything but hold on to his shoulders and allow him to do whatever he wanted to you.

The sound of your wet pussy was almost embarrassing. "You're mine", Hook whispered against your ear.

"As you wish."

He quickened his movements, fucking you with a devotion no one has ever shown you. So close, so glued to your body, Hook has guided you to orgasm. You shuddered against his fingers, your fingernails scratched his perfectly groomed jacket, your moans were uncontrollable.

"Do you still think I'm part of a dream?” Hook trailed kisses from your throat to your jaw. “Has anything this good ever happened in your dreams?'

You shook your head. It was as close to an answer you were able to give him. It was enough for him. Hook is patient. He can wait.

GENERAL TAGLIST: @suakemi @notanalienindisguiseblink

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

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velvetlilacsdaisies · 10 months ago

Text

Shit at Feelings ii

Bodhi Durran x Reader

Synopsis: Bonding with dragons? No issue. Killing venin? Unfortunate, but doable. Confronting your feelings towards your childhood best friend? No thanks.

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: Spoilers!! Swearing, reader being stubborn and both reader and Bodhi being lil dummies?? Lmk if I missed anything.

A/n: the end of 2023 kicked my booty!! Beginning of 2024 no better, but here is part 2! I was stuck on if some of part 3 was going to go in this one, but decided not to. Meddling Imogen, and dragon dialogue is included this part!

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The next day, you stretched with Imogen, returning from a morning run. Most cadets were still sleeping their hangovers off. Imogen said the best way to get over one was running it off. She had picked your lock and dragged you out of your bed this morning to do so. But you knew she just wanted to gossip about the night before.

“So you and Durran?” She had a smirk on her lips, tucking a piece of vibrant pink hair behind her ear.

Imogen only knew about whatever you felt for Bodhi, but with the way Rhiannon reacted last night you weren’t sure if you were discreet about whatever you felt in the first place.

“Not what you think.” You sighed, your arms over your head as you sat on the ground, leaning to one side. “We talked once everyone went to bed.”

She looked at you expectantly as she lifted a leg and stretched it behind her. “And?”

You clicked your tongue, leaning to the other side. “And he called me out on my bullshit.”

She laughed almost manically, earning her a pointed glare. “I’m sorry, sorry.” She then dropped her leg and lifted her other. “But you really left him high and dry.”

You grumbled, “I know and I feel like shit about it.” You stood up dusting your leathers off.

“Y/n, just tell him how you feel.” She shook her hands out.

“How do you expect me to tell him everything when I’ve been avoiding him for years because I’m too scared that something will happen once I spill my guts.”

“Gods, I get it. You’re scared, but you already almost died once without telling him. You think you shouldn’t say a little prayer to Malek and Amari that they gave you a second chance?” Imogen said sternly. “Also if it was anyone else you pulled that disappearing act with, you wouldn’t have the same mercy. But it’s Bodhi we’re talking about, and he would let you lead him to hell and back as many times as you wanted because let’s face it—you’re you. And for some fucked up reason he worships the ground you walk on like you were a god yourself.”

You didn’t know if the queasiness you felt was the hangover or how right she was. He would do anything for you. Even how shitty you treated him for the last two years. Last night proved that.

“He even risked smuggling your fucking sketchbook in so you could have something from home—“

“What?” Your jaw dropped.

The pink haired girl inhaled sharply. “Fuck I wasn’t supposed to say that.”

“He was the one that did that?” Your heart skipped a beat. Even when you had been so stubborn to avoid him, he thought of you? You had questioned the hell out of Garrick, Imogen, and Xaden for a week about it. You had never thought about the younger Riorson cousin.

“I hate being the middleman in your two demented whatever you got going on.” She sighed. “Listen, forget I said that or take that as a sign to pull your head out of your ass. I’ll see you at breakfast.” She patted your shoulder, leaving you alone in the courtyard.

Well you felt like the shittiest person ever.

You knew you needed to talk to him, and you couldn’t run and avoid him this time. As much as you wanted to hop on Clesaí’s back and ride very far away. Fuck.

You had spent an hour already mulling over the information you had just received. Then replaying the argument last night—which then led to remembering the very brief exchange with Bodhi in Aretia, ultimately leading you to the nightmare from Resson plaguing your thoughts. Like they had when you tossed and turned in bed last night, and the prior nights before that. By the time you entered the mess hall, your thoughts felt like nonsense.

He sat with Imogen at the end of the table filled with third years. They looked deep in a discussion, whispering only to one another. You gulped quietly, were they talking about you? You now knew Imogen felt like a middleman between the two of you, you wondered what he talked about to her. You tried not to overthink it as you reluctantly walked over.

As you reached the table, you could hear Bodhi saying something quite harshly. While the pink haired girl had the same expression she wore when she told you to pull your head out of your ass. It was obviously something he didn’t want you to hear because as soon as he saw you coming up, he stopped mid sentence.

“Can we talk?” You asked him, not bothering to greet the pair. He tensed, and you didn’t miss the look he tried to discreetly give your mutual best friend.

Imogen rolled her eyes, grabbing her things and getting up from the table. “I totally forgot Quinn needed help with something. Bye guys.” She gave a twinkle of her fingers before walking away with a smug look on her face.

You sat down, taking the seat Imogen had been in. “So,” you awkwardly tapped your fingers on the wooden table.

“So,” he repeated. “How was your morning run with Immy?”

“Brutal.” You replied. Why was this so uncomfortable?

“Listen, about last night—”

“It needed to be said.” You waved a hand nonchalantly. Your heart begged to differ, beating against your chest. “I was icing you out.”

“I didn’t mean to come off so harshly.” He tucked his bottom lip between his teeth nervously.

Was it possible for you to want a man more? Even during such an embarrassing display of emotion on your behalf? Trying not to focus on the fact you wanted to reach over and be the one tugging his bottom lip between your teeth, you stared at the wood grain of the table.

“I was stubborn.” You reasoned.

“Y/n Y/L/n, stubborn?” There was a tinge of amusement in his tone. “I guess there’s a first time for everything—I mean the taking accountability part at least.” You looked up, and saw him intently staring at you. Through the sarcasm, his brown eyes were warm like deep rich honey.

A ghost of a smile on your lips. “You know me better than anyone else apart from Imogen. The way I regarded you wasn’t fair.” You then contemplated your next words. “And I know—”

“Durran!” Dain walked over, Rhiannon, and a few other second and third year cadets behind him.

Bodhi flinched, shifting his attention to the group. “Yes, Wingleader Aetos?” He had icy malice as he took in Dain. You yourself could feel your anger rise when the third year came in your vicinity. He was the reason you had been in Resson, and why Liam and Soilel were dead.

Dain noted the unwelcome greeting from the both of you and faltered for a moment, heat flushing his cheeks. “We have a meeting.” He cleared his throat, straightening back up.

The man sat across from you glared over to the brunette man. “I’ll be right there.” He then turned back to you with a softer look in his eyes and an apologetic smile where the scowl was a moment prior. “Can we finish this conversation later?”

You could feel the eyes of Rihannon linger on the two of you, and you knew the others now were acutely aware of the interaction as well.

“Yeah, yeah. No worries.” You brushed it off, though disappointment filled you. You were finally getting somewhere, but you knew he couldn’t ignore the newly appointed wingleader.

You had been looking down in your lap, missing the subtle look back Bodhi gave you as he left with the group.

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Later had come and gone with no sign of Bodhi still. Leaving a lurching feeling in your heart, but you tried not to wallow in self pity too much. You had thought maybe you deserved to be stood up. But at least you didn’t run this time, and it was his move now.

“The male of your affection causes too much of a distraction for you anyway.” Cleasaí huffed in your mind. Rolling your eyes you focused on the sketchbook in front of you. “Makes you a lovesick puppy as you would say.”

“Am not,” you bristled.

It was late in the afternoon and you were spending time with Cleasaí in the flight field, avoiding everyone. You had brought a blanket to lay on as you laid back against her front leg. She protectively curled around you, sunbathing, leaving you with a sufficient amount of shade to look at your sketchbook.

“I’m assuming you’ve never had a dragon that captured your affection?” You spoke out loud.

She nestled her head on the ground, huffing again. “I’d rather not say,” you could sense the disdain in her bored tone. A sly smile crept on your face, leaning up and staring right at the green dragon, who had feigned resting her eyes.

“You have, haven’t you?” Egging for more info from the clubtail.

“We haven’t been seeing eye to eye for a year.” Was all she grumbled. “Speaking of not seeing eye to eye. Your human approaches.”

“He’s not my human.” You hissed quietly, looking up to see Bodhi was indeed walking towards you, his dragon Cuir following a reasonable distance away.

“I’ve been looking for you.” He offered you a lazy smile, careful to avoid eye contact with Cleasaí. “Cuir said he thought he noticed Cleasaí leave the Vale.”

Your dragon sighed in annoyance. “Busybody,” she glowered in your head, causing you to grin. Did she mean Cuir or Bodhi? “I meant the annoying green one, but your human is quite a busybody as well. He couldn’t have waited until you came back from the flight field?” This caused a genuine laugh to escape your lips.

Bodhi only gave you a nervous look, “I hope she’s not talking about me.”

“You can tell him yes.” She grunted.

“No, she's just grumpy.” You lightly patted her scaly leg causing her to grunt again.

“How’s her claw?” He asked, scanning the injured back leg of hers.

“None of his business or that one’s over there.” She chuffed, baring her teeth toward Cuir. You didn’t know why she was persistent on one of her own den members not knowing of her condition.

Rolling your eyes, ignoring her. “She's doing better. She should be clear when lessons start again.”

Bodhi had a tight lipped smile on his own face, his shoulders shaking in laughter. Cuir whipping his head annoyed several yards behind him.

“I’m sorry, he can be quite the worrier especially over—”

An audible growl came from your dragon, earning a suspicious look from you.

“What is going on with you?” You scolded Cleasaí mentally.

“Worry about your own human afflictions.” Was all she said down the bond.

The man glanced at the book in your lap, and a grin spread across his cheeks. “You’re drawing in your sketchbook again?” He took a seat across from you on the ground, careful to not be too close to your dragon. Cuir had done the same in the distance.

You blushed slightly, “there’s a new sentimental value to it.” You chewed on your bottom lip, looking up at him. Bodhi had a gleam you couldn’t place in his eye, and his cheeks were blushed slightly too. You couldn’t help but smile broadly at his coyness. “I know you’re the one that brought the book back.”

“Who? Me? Why would I do that?” He propped his knees up, holding his forearms on them as he gazed up at the late afternoon sky.

He had always looked the handsomest during golden hour, your favorite features of his were enhanced. The tones of the setting sun had embraced his face, his eyes warm with gold flecks scattered throughout, and his onyx curls radiating chocolate brown undertones.

You tucked your hair behind your ear, “I don’t know I was wondering the same.” The broad smile painted on your face tilted downward.

“I thought maybe it would’ve been a dead giveaway, and you would have taken it as an olive branch.” He suggested, turning back to you.

You were thumbing at the page that it had been on, the textured parchment. Boy, were you an idiot.

“I thought you hated me or would have been tired of me by now.” You admitted.

“Why would I feel either of those things Y/n?”

“Because you offer me all this patience and kindness that I don’t deserve.” You said exasperated. “And in return I offer stubbornness and do everything in my power to avoid you.”

He chuckled dryly, “haven’t you realized? I don’t care.”

“Well I feel like you should.” This would be an argument that you wouldn’t let go. Screw Amari or Malek giving you a second chance, you didn’t feel worthy of that chance. Nor did you want to see anything happen to Bodhi if you were to accept him back into your life.

“Well, unfortunately I can’t control how I feel,” He looked back at the sketchbook in your lap. A smirk creeping onto his lips. “And apparently neither can you.”

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrow raised at him, and he only made a subtle gesture to the book. You looked down, your cheeks turning bright red.

You had been aimlessly sketching, not thinking too much about what you were putting on paper. It started as just a pair of eyes, but then turned to a full blown portrait of a man. Not just any man though, it had a striking resemblance to Bodhi.

Who were you trying to fool? It was him. From the crinkle by his eye when he’s amused to the unruly curls that always fell in his face.

“That’s all I need to know,” the smirk had turned to a shit eating grin.

You kept opening your mouth trying to respond, but you were left speechless.

“You can’t pull your shit anymore, Y/l/n.” He lifted himself off the ground, wiping the dirt off his leathers standing.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shake your head furiously, finding your voice finally.

You wanted to wipe the cocky look off his face desperately. “Whether you admit it or not, you can’t hide from me anymore.” He responded so cooly, it made you grit your teeth irritatedly. “Don’t worry, Y/n/n your secret’s safe with me.” He teasingly held his hand over his heart. “It’s rather endearing.”

“Bodhi,” you groaned. You could feel the heat evade your face and ears. “It’s not that serious—“

“Serious enough to me.” He didn’t let your annoyance faze him. “I’ll see you around.”

You rolled your eyes, watching him leave down to the main campus. Cuir takes off into the sky and back to the Vale, leaving you and Cleasaí alone again. Releasing a sigh of air that you hadn’t known you were holding when he got out of the ear shot.

‘Lovesick puppy.’ Your dragon had hummed amused. Deep chirping sounds audibly coming from her. Was she laughing at you?

“Me?” You were quick to turn and glower, your lip tugging upward in aggitatation. “How about we talk about you for a second? What the hell was that?”

‘It’s just sometimes the male greens can be so…” she paused. ‘Suffocating?’ She was choosing her words wisely. As though it seemed like she was hiding something, but not surprising you though. Cleasaí was rather secretive, it was what she was known for in the green den. A trickster of sorts, with cunning deception.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” You pressed further.

She chuffed, “I’d rather not divulge that at the moment, but in due time...” She drew, sounding almost feline.

You knew better to argue, she was just as hard headed as you, and if you pushed her too hard, she’d push right back. Then that got you both nowhere. So you stood, gathering your things to retreat to your dorm and get ready for dinner and tonight’s shenanigans.

“Sooner than later, please.” You gave her an expectant look.

She got up, shaking out her scales and stretched a bit. “Yes yes sooner than later, don’t fret Lovesick puppy.”

“Stop calling me that!” You yelled over your shoulder as you retreated back to campus. You could hear the chuff she released in amusement in the distance as you descended the ancient stone stairs.

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Thank you so much for the patience and the support! Please do not hesitate to let me know your thoughts and feedback. Also like and reblog 🫶🩷🤠

#bodhi durran x reader #Bodhi Durran fanfic #bodhi durran #fourth wing fanfic #emperyeon series #emperyeon fanfic #dain aetos x reader #xaden riorson x reader #fourth wing Bodhi #bodhi fourth wing #imogen x reader #imogen fourth wing #Violet Sorrengail #rihhanon matthias #rihhanon matthias fourth wing #shit at feelings fic

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derangedanomaly · 10 months ago

Note

I’ve just seen that you did my request and I love it, ty!! (I was the one that requested the weird sleep scenario)

I’d like to request something again, bad sanses + star sanses with a gender neutral skeleton reader that sorta has powers like a genie. They can float, turn invisible, (still has most of the powers a usual sans has) and are very mischievous. The way they can grant wishes is giving someone a marble looking thing and when that person makes a wish, the marble will break and they’ll have to repay reader with something (can be either something shiny or some bones to chew on) they also don’t have a bottle, that’s the only genie thing they don’t have lol

Can i be 💤 anon?

Ah! Hello again anon💤! :D

Yes, that request was quite fun to write! Ok, since there are so many characters, they're probably not gonna be very long, still, I hope you'll enjoy this!

(Sorry for taking so long!)

Au Sanses x Genie reader

(Nightmare, Killer, Dust, Horror, Error, Dream, Ink, Swap)

Nightmare:

Nightmare actually found your powers quiet mesmerizing at first.

He interrogated you about the powers, and pronounced that your powers aren't very much helpful to him..I mean, yeah, you can grant wishes, but what exactly can- OH MY GOD IS THAT THE LIMITED BOOK HE WANTED BUT COULDN'T MANAGE TO GET?!

Keeps you around simply just for granting wishes 💀 (Asshole)

Doesn't really like the way your powers operate, but can't really do anything about it 🤷‍♀️

Please, don't try to scare him by turning invisible, he might just kill you.

Your relationship has a very rocky start...but you both slowly started to get along.

I swear...he has a constant headache just by your friendship with Killer.

He would do anything in order for you two to stop pulling these stupid pranks on him.

Sometimes likes to stare at you while you're floating around. He just finds that really cool. (Bitch is not gonna admit that 💀)

He hates how much he loves you 🥰

Killer:

THE BEST OF FRIENDS

Killer always felt like the odd one among the bad sanses...they all had their own perspective best friend, but he didn't have one.

Until you came along.

Killer's so clingy towards you after you became best friends...

You guys do a lot of stuff together! Many of them include pranking the others though..

Killer keeps on flirting with you in hopes of scoring a date with you. And if you don't get his flirting, then he'll just cover it up by saying that it's just a friendly banter. (It breaks his nonexistent heart though :(

The first time you scared him by turning invisible, he got very angry, until noticing it was you. Then his whole mood shifted as he just laughed it off. (Bro is a simp)

He was, and will be, so confused that you don't have a bottle. Like what do you mean that it doesn't work like in Aladdin?!

He likes to bother you with very useless wishes, "I wish for that remote on the table to appear in my hands." It was in front of him.

Bro is BROKE ASFF!!! His wallet cries after every wish he makes.. he could repay you with something else than money..but he didn't like to give his stuff away.

Dust:

Dust is a closeted nerd...so of course the first thing he does is whip out his book and write down everything about you.

It's his first time seeing a genie. Of course he's gonna ask a lot of questions!

He loves to study you, to the point where you felt like a wild animal in the Zoo.

He's silently sitting on a nearby chair as you grant Horror his wish, staring at you.. studying how your powers work.

It's gotten to the point where you're getting kinda creeped out..

You, at first, thought that he wanted to make a wish or something, but when he denied it just as you asked him.. you got confused even more.

Bro is staring so much that he eventually stops studying your powers, and is instead studying you.

He now notices even the smallest things about you.

Is getting a little obsessed, not gonna lie, but it's cute. So you'll allow it ;)

Horror:

His reaction to you being a genie is actually very wholesome.. (surprisingly). He wishes for his Au to not be in deep starvation..and for them to finally get out of the underground. Basically, kinda resetting everything that's happened after Frisk left.

You sadly can't grant this wish of his, which leaves him sad and angry. But you do give him a giant meat. (Which made his mood a little better.)

You started to feel sad for him after this moment, so you started to talk to him regularly. Which he enjoyed.

Horror's not much of a talker, so he'll just listen to you most of the time.

It's also partially because he likes to listen to your voice.. ❤️

Horror likes the sound that your powers make whenever you grant a wish, so he's always nearby whenever you're granting wishes. (It's just a little bell that sounds off)

Becomes attached to you, very quickly.

Defends you from Nightmare to the best of his abilities.

Horror's the tallest of the Sanses, (my HC) so he'll be so mesmerized when you float up higher above him. He won't lie, he likes this change. Having to look up for once instead of down.

He likes how your powers operate. It seems fair to him. 🤷‍♀️

Error:

He immediately took advantage of the fact you can grant wishes.

He wished for so many things! Such as; getting Classic's autograph, make Ink disappear, have a popcorn maker, wishing for chocolate,...

He actually doesn't like how you can float. He can't wrap his strings around you and pull you along now! >:(

You're getting on his nerves by being friends with Killer though.

After Nightmare, Error's your next target. Every.time.

Seriously sick of it. If he could, he would seperate you and Killer.IN HEARTBEAT.

He really, really.. really wants to hold your hand, but his Haphephobia doesn't allow him to 💀

Please, don't try to scare him by turning invisible. He WILL crash.

Dream:

He thinks that you must carry a big burden on your shoulders, if you're a Genie. So he gets really concerned if anything really.

He tries to pull you away from granting any wishes, every.time.

He's so cute.. dragging you away to hang out with him to forget about your work.

But he does want to see how your powers operate.

Finds it amazing that you can float, turn invisible... everything really!

After your long persuadation, he gives in and makes a wish.

His wish is really sad...he wishes to have his brother and Au back. He wants to reverse time! Which, as we know, you can't do. It's against the rules to change what was already done. So you politely decline, explaining him exactly why.

Dream's a really understanding person, so of course he doesn't mind it or isn't angry.

What was past...is past. What matters now, is that you're here in the present. Nothing else should matter. ^^ (his words)

Ink:

Immediately, Without hesitation, nor any filter, he asks; "Can you make me feel emotions?"

You don't grant his wish -> he sulks.

He's a forgetful shit, so he'll forget that you're a genie at times.

It's like he's on repeat at the start of your relationship. He finds out you're a genie -> wishes to feel emotions -> you decline -> he sulks -> forgets 💀

Be prepared for this at times.

But after knowing you for awhile, he finally remembers and stops asking you that damn question.

He doesn't have much opinions about you tbh. He's seen some shit, so he's not all that fazed from you being a genie.

The part that shocks him the most is that you don't have a lamp. (His reaction is similar to Killer. Bro confused you for Aladdin 💀)

Y'all have a rocky relationship 🤷‍♀️

Don't worry though, after you get to know each other a bit more, he'll cling to you like a Koala.

Swap:

Similar reaction to Dream. He feels concerned for your mentality.

Everyone's always going to you to grant their wish, but Swap's soul is too kind for his own good. Instead of wishing something for himself, he asks you; "What do you wish for?"

You cried that time. (He was scared that he did something wrong 💀)

You started treating him as if he was some precious gold. Which got him flustered.

He treats you as if you were his queen. Brings you food, helps you out a lot... You name it.

He just feels so much love for you, it's unbelievable.

Doesn't mind your little pranks with Killer. He just sees that as your little escape from work. Which he feels happy for. :)

He just smiles softly whenever you prank him with Killer in tow.

He's so patient and kind towards you😭

Doesn't mind you floating around or the fact that you can turn invisible, you're you, and that's something he never wants to replace.

#undertale fandom #sans undertale #undertale #sans x reader #nightmare sans x reader #dust sans x reader #killer sans x reader #error sans x reader #horror sans x reader #dream sans x reader #ink sans x reader #swap sans x reader

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scribblescrabbledepartment · 3 months ago

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2 more illustrationsss idk if im really in love with them maybe ill redo them someday

[ID: two illustrations. the first shows two boys walking against the wind in a barren, snowy area. the second shows a creepy, grimy, decaying baby doll.]

story under cut (taken directly from a dream) (this one isnt really my best & it still needs some revising but what ever)

“Do we really have to go all the way out here?”

“Yeah, I wanna show you something.”

Two young boys of eight and ten trudged through a marsh-turned-tundra, one leading the other. The gray sky was difficult to differentiate from the gray ground, and despite the snow and ice covering the area, the land was still somehow spongy and muddy and threatened to pull away their snow boots with each slimy step. Their footsteps would have made a pretty unpleasant crunchy-squishing noise which might be compared to the sound of an enormous beetle being crushed as their boots broke through thin layers of ice and sunk into the marshy ground, but the wind was so eerily loud with its otherworldly howls and whistles that it drowned out nearly every other sound. The younger of the two boys, following behind his older brother, looked warily at the few trees and shrubs poking out of the miserable grayness and thought that they resembled monster skeletons, but would never express this out loud; his brother mustn’t get the idea that he was scared, even though his brother was a little scared himself.

“It’s up there,” the older boy called through the shrieks of the wind. They approached a strange little area which was partially shielded from the weather with monster skeleton trees. About ten feet from the trees was the edge of what couldn’t quite be described as water even during the warmest seasons. It was more like a muddy quicksandy sludge, now mixed with winter slush. Between the slushy sludge and the monster skeletons was a barren strip of land. A couple of objects lay partially covered in muck and snow on the ground.

“What is that?” The younger boy stuck close behind his brother, not feeling particularly fond of anything that was happening right now. His brother snapped a stick off of one of the shrubs and used it to haphazardly dust off the things on the ground—dolls. Two baby dolls that looked like antiques, one still a rosy peach color and in pretty good shape, the other appearing greenish and almost decayed.

“A kid at school told me about this place,” said the older boy, answering before his brother could ask. “Apparently people leave sacrifices for them. You know why?”

His younger brother shook his head. He didn’t know and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. If they didn’t freeze to death out here, he was sure he’d have nightmares for a week just from the visual alone.

“They leave sacrifices because apparently they’re alive. They look pretty dead right now but when nobody’s around they get up and start walking and looking for something to kill, so people leave the sacrifices so they won’t go kill anybody.”

“That’s dumb,” the younger boy said in a voice that trembled much more than he would have liked it to. It was absolutely dumb and it creeped the hell out of him all the same.

“Yeah, it is,” the older boy admitted. “Still kinda neat though. They look really old. I bet they’ve been here for a hundred years.” Doing what, though? He pushed the thought out of his mind. He didn’t need his little brother thinking he was any kind of creeped out.

“Can we go now? This weather sucks,” the younger complained. His brother nodded and they turned around to leave. As they shuffled off, however, the younger boy lost his footing and tumbled over into the vast pond of sludge.

“God dammit,” he cried out in frustration. He knew his brother wouldn’t tell on him for swearing; they always cursed with each other when no adults (or tattle-tales) were around to hear. Grunting, he tried to push himself upright, but he found it very difficult to move in the thick liquid, and his heavy winter clothes didn’t help.

“Here, grab my hand,” the older brother called against the wind, reaching out. His brother somehow seemed much farther away from the edge of the land than he should have been. As he glanced at the ground to make sure he wasn’t stepping into the muck, he noticed that the more decayed-looking doll was missing.

“What the…” he murmured under his breath. He looked back up to his brother and felt his body go numb. On the horizon, moving closer, was what appeared to be a tiny figure.

“Come on, grab my hand!” He tried not to let his panic show as he leaned out over the edge of the pond, but something in his voice tipped his brother off. The younger boy turned his head and saw the doll swimming toward him, slowly but surely, and he began to scream. He screamed and reached as far as he could and tried to shuffle out of the sludge but it was much more difficult than it was getting in, and the doll grew closer. They could see its arms slowly going around like windmills in their creaky sockets in a very poor imitation of swimming and if it had been a scene from a movie they would have been laughing hysterically, but it wasn’t a movie and the movement somehow managed to push the doll with relative ease through the same almost-liquid that trapped the younger boy.

The two were becoming increasingly frantic as the younger brother struggled to free himself and the older boy briefly considered stepping in just a little bit to reach him, but then he surely would have wound up just as stuck as his brother and of no help to anybody. He stretched his arm out as far as he could, nearly falling into the pond as he reached, and as he finally brushed his brother’s fingertips he noticed that the doll had disappeared. And suddenly, so did his brother as something pulled him under at a terrifying speed, leaving the older boy standing stunned and alone in the desolate, miserable grayness.

#writing #marker

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gaylordscooter · 8 months ago

Text

Our Landlord that we Pay in Fear (collect my pages)

[warning for implied self harm and suicide attempt]

“i’m making a very noble sacrifice for you two right now so you best carry out my dying wish in the case i die.”

Dust and Horror gave Killer a judgemental glare.

“we're not making a bath bomb with your dust and using it, that’s just…no. fuck that,” Horror replied.

Killer pouted. “fine,” he sighed dramatically. “remember me!” he shouted before sprinting blindly into the darkness of the forest.

Mere seconds later, they heard a thud along with Killer cursing.

“i’ll try to forget him,” Dust signed. He took the flashlight out from his pocket and turned it on. He headed into the forest with Horror.

This was a new game of Nightmare’s. It was completely stolen; it wasn't his original idea in the first place. They can thank Killer for introducing Nightmare to horror games, trying to see if he would be scared by them. He wasn't. He thought he could be scarier and decided to test that hypothesis out on them.

“Slenderman” was the name of the game Nightmare was enacting. Killer claimed he was great at it, an absolute expert. So of course, the other two pressured him to go on ahead and find all the pages as fast as he could.

He probably only got one before the two heard his scream ring throughout the forest.

Dust signed “scream” and “girl” with amusement.

“i know, right? makes me wonder if our voices can go that high, heh,” Horror replied.

Immediately Dust’s mood soured like a switch was flicked. He made no comment and walked faster, forcing Horror to speed up or get left behind.

“right,” Horror sighed. “forgot you hate yourself that much.”

Dust grunted as if to say, “shut up.” He pointed the flashlight at the numerous trees around them, pausing when he spotted a page haphazardly slapped on one of the trunks.

He approached it, looking around while Horror watched his back, not like he trusted him to protect it anyway. The page itself was covered in grime. It didn't even need to be stapled to the tree, the goo was enough to keep it in place. He wondered what exactly the grime was made out of. Nightmare is always coated in it. Is it like his skin? He banished that thought with the others.

He peeled the page off the tree. It made a gross wet noise as he did. Usually he doesn't mind getting his hands dirty, but he was glad he was wearing gloves regardless.

“what's on it?” Horror asked.

Dust held it out for him to see.

What was visible on the page was messy writing of seemingly random letters, but most of it was covered by the goop.

Horror squinted his eye sockets. “some kind of code?”

Dust shrugged. He put the page away into his inventory.

A low rumble echoed throughout the forest. Dust appeared unfazed and walked on ahead anyway.

“didja hear that?” Horror asked, on edge at the noise. He knew he wasn't in his universe anymore, but his instincts couldn't help but scream at him to get the hell out of the forest upon hearing an unusual noise. It was basic self-preservation.

Dust paused mid-step and turned to Horror. He lifted his index finger up his chin, “real?”

“debatable if it’s ‘real’” he said with air quotes, “but if we both heard it, it's probably a problem.”

They carried on, Dust slowing down so that they were walking side-by-side.

“i wonder how killer’s doing. it’s so hard to see even with a flashlight,” Horror remarked. “we haven't heard from him since he screamed. think he's dead?”

Dust chuckled at the notion.

Horror sucked in air through his teeth as the chuckling became full blown laughing like he just said the funniest joke ever. He must really hate the guy, Horror thought.

Dust’s laughter cut off instead of dying down. He wasn't even interrupted. He just stopped when he decided to.

What a weirdo, Horror thought, much to his hypocrisy.

Killer was in fact, not dead, but he would be if he slowed down anytime soon. Sprinting blindly in a forest you’ve never been in wasn't exactly the easiest thing to do, but he had to get good at it quickly. He didn't know what the hell he saw or heard, but it sure wasn't anything familiar. He thought Nightmare would be the one hunting them down, but as far as he was concerned, the thing chasing him didn't sound nor look like him at all. At least, according to the mere glimpses he got of it.

His soul was pounding. He cursed himself for showing Nightmare what a horror game was. Of course that freak wasn't going to be scared of it! He was fear itself! Probably…

A branch snagged his foot and his head slammed into the ground. Even though he recovered quickly and shoved himself up mere seconds later, the thing grabbed him by the ankle. He twisted around to face it.

His breathing hitched. The thing he stared back at was blurry, almost like he was staring right at a dream, but he knew what it was.

It was the anomaly. The one from his universe. The one that took control of him and made him empty the underground.

The Player.

Two blasters summoned by his side, but they refused to fire.

Killer was sweating bullets. He tried kicking it off. Tried summoning bones but his magic was not working.

“No no no no!” he hissed.

He whipped out his knife—big mistake. He couldn't control his arm anymore. He couldn't control any of his body.

He was completely paralyzed, yet he trembled anyway.

He was hyperventilating as the anomaly closed in on him.

“—and that makes five pages? how many more left are there?” Horror questioned.

Dust shrugged, as helpful as ever.

Luckily they haven't ran into any direct trouble yet. They only heard a few weird noises here and there. Maybe Killer was distracting Nightmare?

They’ve explored most of the forest by now. At least they assumed so because of how long they've been walking around.

Because of the lack of danger, it was almost like a normal stroll through the forest. It was sort of nostalgic to Horror, like he was walking around Snowdin before the problems with the CORE. It was just missing the snow and of course, the people.

He kept an eye socket on Dust, wondering if he found this nostalgic too. He doubted it. Dust hated thinking about the past, which was fair. If he was in his shoes he wouldn't want to think about it either. There was a reason he hardly looked like he was Sans.

Dust stopped in place, looking intently at a particular tree.

“i don't think there's a page on there, bud,” Horror assured.

Dust ignored him and walked over to the tree. He studied it a moment before shaking his head. He signed something too quickly for Horror to understand. It seemed like it wasn't a message for him.

Horror darted his eyes around the area. “yeah, like i said there isn’t a—”

Dust dropped the flashlight and punched the tree with a loud crack that was most certainly not just from the tree.

Horror winced, leaning down to pick up the flashlight. “yeesh, dude, did it owe you money or something?”

Dust clutched his hand with the other. There was no doubt it was chipped at the knuckles now. Even though he was wearing gloves, the blood from his marrow bleeding out between the cracks dyed the fabric red. “wrong direction,” he signed, “circles.” He pointed at the tree with his uninjured hand.

“you didn't have to go and punch the tree,” Horror said. “your hand alright?”

Dust hissed in response.

“ok…” Horror replied. And they thought he was the rabid one. “i’ll lead the way then. just chill out.”

Once he started leading they didn't come across that same tree he punched, so presumably they weren't going in circles anymore.

They found three more pages. Nothing happened when they grabbed the first two, but upon grabbing the third, the area lit up.

Dust and Horror blinked rapidly as their eye sockets adjusted to the daylight.

Horror turned off the flashlight and put it away in his pockets. “huh, i guess we're done?”

Dust pumped his fist in the air in victory and flipped off no one in particular. He waved goodbye to Horror as he hastily walked to what he believed was the nearest way out of the forest.

“wait, do you even know which direction the castle is from here?” Horror asked.

He held a hand up to sign “no” without turning back.

Before Horror could follow after him, Nightmare emerged from the ground next to him.

“gah!” Horror exclaimed, startled by the sudden appearance.

“You three sure took your time,” he said. He frowned and scanned the area. “Where is the third one?”

“killer? he split up from us at the beginning…you didn't know?” Horror questioned. He assumed Nightmare had a full view of the entire forest. Was he just following them around instead?

Nightmare’s single eye blinked. “I did not,” he said slowly. He would have to search the forest to find Killer. He had been feeling the most fear and stress from him. If he had to guess, he was lost.

Luckily Dust already found Killer by the edge of the forest. He didn't expect to find him clutching his own soul like it owed him money.

He looked roughed up, physically and mentally. White ring eyelights pierced into his target shaped soul as he scowled.

If he kept clutching his soul like that he would die.

Dust didn't feel like watching someone die right in front of him, even if it was Killer. He turned his soul blue and yanked it up to get it out of his hand.

Killer gasped and thrashed in his hold. “let go of me! let go!” he wailed.

Dust reflexively released his hold on his soul, dropping him to the ground. He watched with concern—disgust, as Killer breathed rapidly while lying on the ground. What the hell happened to him? Nightmare wasn't even near him right now.

Killer didn't acknowledge his presence, even after that, so Dust got closer.

He crouched down next to the panicking skeleton.

Finally, Killer got a glimpse of him. He rolled onto his chest and pushed himself up with his arms. “dusty?”

He sounded so relieved. It caught Dust off guard.

He hastily reached out with one arm, falling back down onto his chest when he did. He grabbed hold of Dust’s knee. Once his hand touched something solid he relaxed, and then he jerked his hand away when he registered that Dust was there. He sat up and cleared his throat. “didja get any pages?” he asked casually.

It took Dust a second to respond. The change in Killer’s demeanor was instant. He nodded but then signed, “what happened?”

“i uh—haha, um,” he stammered. “nightmare was chasing me?” he shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.

“I’m right here,” Nightmare said, startling the two as he approached from behind the nearby trees. “And I didn't see you the whole time. Yet you were terrified.”

Killer crossed his arms trying to not look embarrassed. “i was not! just got a little lost is all. it annoyed me! i wasn't terrified.”

Nightmare mirrored his crossed arms. “You are aware I can tell the difference, right? I don't just sense your negativity, I sense what emotion it is.”

“oh it's not like it matters anyway! negativity is negativity, who cares!”

“Oh, it does matter.” Nightmare's tentacles flicked in agitation. “Your terror wasn't quite palatable.”

Killer's sockets widened as he sneered, “good! i hope you choked on it.”

“I cannot ‘choke’ on your emotions,” he deadpanned.

Killer grumbled something incomprehensible.

“Get up already, you two. We're going back to the castle.” He already opened a portal next to them.

“yay! more torture!” Killer cheered sarcastically as he stood up along with Dust.

“I did not cause whatever happened to you, and besides we're done for the day,” he corrected. “I will be out, don’t burn the place down or you won’t have a place to stay.”

“you’re the one that burned the place down before,” Killer muttered as he went through the portal.

“Dust,” Nightmare interrupted as he was about to go through.

Dust turned his head towards him.

“Do you know what happened to him?” he asked.

Dust couldn't tell if that was worry in his voice or intrigue. He shook his head, but after a moment of thinking, he pointed to where his soul would be and made a tearing motion with his hands.

Nightmare hummed thoughtfully. “Next time, do not split up.”

Underneath the hood was a look of confusion, but he gave him a thumbs up anyway. He turned back around to go through the portal. It was only once he was in the castle that he let himself wonder just what Nightmare was thinking. His motives were as clear as mud to them. All they knew is that he got energy from negative emotions, which is why they put them through stressful situations.

However the limit to these situations fluctuate, and not in a predictable way either. He was inconsistent.

Dust guessed that today was one of those days where he went easy on them. Maybe that was why he was unnerved by the intensity of Killer’s reaction, because it was unplanned.

But wouldn't that be beneficial to him?

Maybe he was just a control freak.

He walked to the kitchen to get something to drink, noticing the lack of Killer talking Horror's or his nonexistent ears off.

Horror was sitting at the dining table with all the pages laid out before him as well as a piece of scrap paper with various notes scribbled down.

Dust didn't pay him any mind as he leaned on the wall by the fridge as he drank.

He watched Horror go through all five stages of grief as he meticulously studied the pages and then went on to create five new stages of grief.

Had he cared, he would've pointed out that the pages are most likely meaningless, but this was too entertaining to interrupt.

It had to be at least an hour before Horror slammed his hands down on the table and gave up. He looked over at Dust, eyes squinting. “what the hell are you drinking?”

Dust looked down at his glass full of various condiments, a dash of vanilla, and milk, all topped with “ice cubes” that were just frozen chunks of butter. He did not have an answer.

Horror sighed, massaging his forehead. “make me one,” he mumbled.

Normally Dust wouldn't follow an order like that, but he decided Horror deserved a treat after inventing five more stages of grief and enacting them out before him.

“have you seen Killer at all recently or were you standing there the entire time?”

Dust handed him the drink, giving him a blank “what do you think?” look.

“figures…” He took a sip. It was an assault on all of his senses. There were at least three different consistencies in this single drink. Horrendous. He took another sip.

There was a moment of silence as both of them drank the bio-hazard in their hands.

“...he’s probably in his room again,” Horror guessed.

It wasn't an odd occurrence for Killer to coop up in his room after Nightmare’s had his fun, but it wasn't that common either.

Usually Dust wouldn't care—he didn't care still, but…

He finished his drink, now crunching on the frozen butter. That sucked, badly. He’ll have to make that again sometime. He put the glass in the sink and made his way to the hall that led to their rooms.

He passed by Killer's door to get to his own. His hand paused when he grasped the doorknob. With a silent sigh, he turned around and walked back to Killer’s door.

His mismatched eyelights bore into the door as if looking at it would magically open it. Did he want to knock or just open the door? Scratch that he wasn't going to knock.

He twisted the doorknob, only to find the door was locked.

He internally cursed. Killer probably heard that; it would be awkward to knock now.

He could walk away right now. He didn't know who was at the door yet—

The door opened right as he thought that.

“what?” Killer groaned. His frown evaporated when he saw Dust. He leaned on the door frame. “oh, you.” There was that relief again.

His mind decided now was the opportune moment for him to forget what little sign language he knew. He just ended up staring at him in silence.

…

He CHECKed Killer, noticing his HP was a tad lower than usual.

Killer faked a cough into his hand. “...good talk.” He reached for the door and closed it.

Dust didn't hear it lock.

Well, at least he confirmed he was still alive. Dust decided he was satisfied with that and went over to his own room.

#utmv #utmv fic

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