#but what is the fear of the ghost in the moment? being stuck with the giw. so they calm down and let the giw take them and keep them

[schnee-gheist]

dp fanfic ideas are getting to me again goddammit

[0ransje]

We may be going extinct but at least we have each other.

[logaenhowlett]

SOMETHING HAPPENS AND I'M HEAD OVER HEELS - L.H.

Summary: What starts off as a simple favour to watch Laura’s cat sends Logan into a spiral as you continue to make your way into his life.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader

Warnings: Pure fluff - Logan is 100% whipped, Wade

A/N: 4.4k - my longest fic yet! Worst!Logan has my entire soul, I'd give anything just for that pretty smile. Title creds to Tears For Fears. Enjoy!

MASTERLIST

The familiar burn of whiskey stings the back of his throat. Logan rests his head against the couch, second-guessing his decision to babysit Laura's cat while she's enjoying her night out. Her tireless attempts of pestering him at last working in her favour so he can finally meet his 'copy-kitten' - her words.

A quick glance at the time reveals he should probably head out now. Logan rises, groaning as his muscles protest after weeks of just slumping around the apartment. Even Al had pointed out how lazy he'd become lately. And that unsolicited observation gave him half the mind to consider finding new roommates. But who was he kidding? As much as he also barely tolerated that one incredibly maddening little prick's incessant jibber-jabber, he wasn't going to find anything for what he's currently paying.

Soon enough, he weaves his way through the crowds, swerving past the shoulders of, frankly, one too many people absorbed by their devices to step aside for his large frame. Luckily, Laura's place isn't too far and he really appreciates that detail as the sound of thunder rumbles overhead. A faint ding emerges from his pocket and he retrieves his phone, reading the screen with a slight squint.

His boots soak the welcome mat as he fumbles with the door trim, locating the key according to Laura's text - making a mental note to remind her of personal safety later. Shivering, he shrugs the wet jacket off, tossing it over the armchair. His eyes dart around the room, looking for the damn cat, and for a moment, Logan wonders whether he's being pranked.

The pitter-patter of paws against the hardwood floor has him snapping his head to the little creature in question. The cat, or Leopold Alexis Elijah Walker Thomas Gareth Mountbatten - Leo, for short - he learns begrudgingly after Wade shoved pictures upon pictures to his face one particular day, stares at him with indifference.

Understanding the need to be left alone, Logan trudges towards the kitchen, swinging the fridge open. A small post-it stuck over a box of leftovers, reads "Knew you'd be hungry", has him scoffing, mildly amused that Laura had predicted his actions.

Minutes later, he sinks onto the couch, making brief eye contact with Leo, who's nonchalantly licking his paws. He's halfway through the bowl of pasta when the cat suddenly leaps onto the cushion next to him. Logan watches curiously, he's not terribly experienced around pets, hardly spending any time with Mary Puppins herself despite living under the same roof.

"Alright, here's the deal." He murmurs, "You stay outta my way and I stay outta yours."

Leo replies with a meow to which Logan nods, satisfied by the response. He hopes to god this cat has the same temperament as Dogpool and allows him to simply coexist till Laura returns. Intrigued by the smell, Leo slowly inches forward, gently nudging his head against the bowl.

"Don't think you can eat this, bub."

Leo seems to understand the implication and meows in defiance. With a sigh, Logan gingerly flexes his hand, stroking the cat's head. The act immediately has Leo purring in content, the desire to investigate the food long forgotten. And no one's there to witness the ghost of a smile that teases his lips.

The calm attitude only lasts an hour before Logan's biting back a string of profanities, frustrated by Leo's refusal to take his medication. He's thankful for his healing factor, for otherwise, he'd be covered in a litter of scars. How the hell Laura deals with this devil-of-a-cat is beyond comprehension.

There's no use in trying again. Leo clearly wants nothing to do with him or what he's hiding in his hand. The thought of seeking help crosses his mind, perhaps one of the neighbours is especially skilled in feeding pills to literal hellspawns. Logan tunes his hearing to the apartments on the floor. Old lady already asleep to her TV - no. A family of six attempting to eat dinner in peace - no. Two people about to - fuck no. Now he really wants a word with Laura about her living situation.

Just when he's about to give up, a recognisable melody reaches his ears - one he's unwilling heard Wade jam out to in the shower. This person swaying along to music seems far more approachable than anyone else in this building, and so he steps out, knocking on the apartment across from Laura's.

The door cracks open slightly, you peek your head out giving him a questioning look, “Um… hi? Can I help you?”

“Hey, sorry to bother you. But, uh… I’m watching Laura’s - your neighbour’s cat.” Embarrassment creeps into his cheeks as he points behind him, “He’s not takin’ his meds and uh do you… can you help me? Please?”

The look of absolute defeat paired with the remnants of red scratch marks on his arms has your heart clenching for this poor man, “Of course.”

When the door fully opens, Logan’s eyes widen reflexively at the state of your undress. There’s nothing evocative about it, yet he feels as though he’s intruding on an intimate side of you. One he’s definitely not privy to.

Your sheepish smile sends a wave of something indescribable through his body. He clears his throat, turning on his heel to lead you inside. Leo flicks his head up at the sound of footsteps, purring as if he hasn’t been driving Logan insane for the past hour.

You knew Laura had rescued the little guy a while ago, having run into her in the hallway the night she brought him home. Every interaction you’ve had presents him as the sweetest kitten in the world, so watching the distinct mark of dread on this stranger’s face has you stifling a laugh.

“What?” Logan asks, feeling a little self-conscious about the whole situation.

“Nothing. It’s just - Leo’s very friendly. Or at least, I thought so… what the hell did you do to piss him off?” You chuckle, kneeling a foot away.

“Piss him off? I was just tryin’ to give him the damn pills. Had no problem with me before that.” Logan’s fingers twitch as you approach the cat, wanting to protect you from the sharp claws the demon would surely attack you with.

Yet, to his astonishment, Leo innocently crawls into your outstretched arms. And Logan swears he saw a flicker of mockery come across the cat’s eyes as he peers at him, relishing your comforting embrace.

“See? He’s a sweetheart.”

The fondness in your tone almost has him believing your words. In no time, Leo’s fully cooperating with your gentle requests, happily taking the medication as if it’s the tastiest thing in the world.

Logan learns three things that night. One, your name. Two, that you have some innate ability to charm everyone around you - human or otherwise. Three, he absolutely couldn’t wait to see you again.

Logan tries to drain out the shouting match between his two roommates, ducking calmly as Al’s miscalculated spatula throw flies in his direction. Laura giggles next to him, entertained by the whole ordeal - Wade had accidentally left his cock ring plugged in the bathroom again, nearly short-circuiting the apartment.

“Hey! Kink shaming is very frowned upon, Althea.”

“You motherfucker! I almost got electrocuted by the toaster this morning!”

Logan grumbles to himself, knowing there’ll never be a quiet, normal day in this household. He turns to Laura, “Kid, you wanna grab some food later?”

“Can’t. I’m going out.”

He nods, not giving it a second thought. But as the memory of you flashes across his mind, he stops bouncing his leg, heart beating a little faster. It had been a whopping seven days since that interaction, yet every little detail has stuck with him since. In fact, he spent many hours pacing in his room planning some way to magically run into you.

“… What about the cat?” He asks, and when she raises her eyebrow, “Who’s watchin’ him?”

She replies with a shrug, “I’ll figure it out.”

The solution to his problem falls perfectly onto his lap. Oh, how his pulse quickens at the thought. And as if to not seem suspiciously enthusiastic, he pauses before speaking, “I can do it.” 

“Why?”

“Better than this shit.”

Laura considers him for a moment then agrees casually - she knows exactly why he offered. You had bumped into her a couple of days ago, offhandedly mentioning meeting Logan that night as you recounted the details of your week. It took mere seconds to put two and two together and realise he was incredibly smitten.

Logan spends a good fifteen minutes messing with his hair. Fuck, did it always spike up like that? The one tiny mirror in his room supposedly taunting him with each look over. A low tsk breaks the flood of self-criticism as he slams the door shut behind him, roughly brushing past Wade.

"Ooh, is that cologne I smell or are you just horny to see me?"

His teasing spirit immediately drops when Logan shoots him a glare, precisely throwing Al's spatula straight at his crotch.

"God - not the home office, peanut! Jim and Pam need protection!"

The walk to Laura's seems a lot shorter this time, some sort of nervous, giddy energy surging through his chest with each step. Logan bites the insides of his cheeks, feeling childish by the stupid smile daring to grace his lips just at the sheer thought of you. He can't remember the last time someone had drawn these kind of emotions from him. A part of him wants to cower in fear of rejection and self-doubt, and other? Oh, it's got your name written all over.

As soon as he reaches the hallway, all his senses are directed to your apartment. Confused by the silence he finds instead, Logan strains his hearing harder than ever. Hm, it's barely seven-thirty, maybe you're not home yet? Disappointment twirls around his mind, he sighs before opening Laura's door, convincing himself it's probably for the better.

To his surprise, Leo behaves quite well this time around - eating his food, taking his medication, and sticking with minimal efforts to annoy him. The black and white movie he randomly chose keeps his thoughts from drifting to you for the most part, though he can't help but wonder where you are at - he checks his watch - 10:38 pm on a Thursday?

Whatever hope he held onto paints him a fool as time slips by. He couldn't blame you, you didn't owe him anything. Logan runs a hand down his face, and despite his wavering relationship with Leo, he's at least grateful for the cat's company on this rather lonely night.

"Was a dumb idea, huh?" He mumbles, gently scratching Leo's ear.

Not ten minutes later, the jingle of something hitting the floor has him sitting up, intrigued. Logan pads over to look through the peephole, his heart fluttering at the sight of you. It doesn't take a genius to note your drunken state with the way you're cursing and fumbling with the keys. His hand rests against the doorknob, a flash of hesitation creeping in. Do you even want to see him right now?

Before he can psych himself out, his instincts make the decision for him. Logan's unsure of how to announce his presence, wanting to avoid any chances of scaring you. In hindsight, that task should’ve been deemed impossible when you flinch suddenly anyway.

"Logan! Shit - did I wake you up?"

He chuckles at that and before he can even respond, you fire off another question, "Wait, what're you doing here?"

"Laura's out. I'm on babysitting duty." Leo purrs from somewhere behind him in confirmation. Logan watches as you nod slowly, the keys once again sliding from your grasp, "Here, let me help you."

The two of you reach down, fingertips barely grazing as he reacts faster than you. He realises he's much closer than he anticipated when your perfume crowds his senses. Logan buries the urge to meet your eyes deep, deep down, instead unlocking the door with a clenched jaw.

He's very appreciative of the fact that you're too out of it to observe his actions. He wanders into the kitchen to fetch some water, a laugh nearly spilling out of him as you collapse onto the couch, "Hey, easy."

"I'm not that drunk."

"I believe you." He lifts the glass to your lips, words ever so soft, "But... how about we get you to bed hm? Doesn't that sound better than this couch?" When you blink at him tiredly, Logan knows it's so over for him - every shred of denial he held within now shattered by your very hands.

"Okay... "

He maintains some distance, assuming you'd stubbornly dismiss his attempts to guide you to the bedroom. Leaning by the doorframe, he doesn't try to hide the fondness in his expression as you settle under the covers.

"Night, Logan."

He hears you murmur beneath the blanket. It's almost natural how quickly he replies as if you've had this exchange hundreds of times before, "Good night, sweetheart."

A groan leaves you as the sunlight eventually breaches the comfort of your dark room. Rubbing your eyes, you blindly reach for the bedside table, hoping to find your phone. Instead, your hand retrieves a piece of paper while knocking over a bottle of Advil that definitely wasn't there earlier.

'Not that drunk' my ass. - L

The party hat lays tilted on his head. Logan hooks his finger onto the string, momentarily stopping it from cutting into his chin. On any other occasion, he wouldn't have been caught dead wearing the stupid thing, but it was Laura's birthday and once she pulled out the dangerous puppy eyes, there was no way he could refuse without being an asshole.

He's been leaning against the wall, thumb lightly tracing the rim of the beer bottle in his hand as he blankly stares around the room. Throughout the night, Logan's eyes impulsively shift in your direction, tuning into the conversations you're having with - what feels like - everyone but him.

Mary Puppins zooms by, stepping on his boots in the process. She must've caught a whiff of whatever Al's cooking. He bends down to pick up the stuffed Wolverine chew toy she dropped along the way, mildly concerned by the amount of slobber coating it.

"Nice hat."

Logan hears you chuckle behind him. He quickly turns around, tossing the toy somewhere far, far away before you could notice. And despite wishing all night for the opportunity to talk to you, he finds himself tongue-tied now that you're actually in front of him, awaiting his response with an amused expression. Get it together, dumbass.

"This thing? Well... it made the kid happy." He says, incapable of suppressing the smile that never fails to make an appearance whenever you're around.

The way your features soften releases a storm of arrows to his poor, old heart. Whatever anxiety he felt earlier increases tenfold, Logan takes a swig of his drink only to realise it's empty. With nothing to divert his energy to, he grips the bottle tighter, hoping the integrity of the glass is enough to withstand the force of his nerves.

"Thank you, by the way."

His eyebrows raise in confusion, "For what?"

"Few weeks ago. When I got home totally wasted." As your cheeks turn a little red at the memory, Logan wants to relive that moment over and over again.

"Oh... yeah." He huffs lightly, gaining a smidge of confidence from your flustered state. It gives him just enough courage to throw in a cheeky comment, "At your service."

He's mighty pleased when you giggle, biting his lip to control the proud smile aching to take over. Logan studies you briefly, and if he didn't know any better, you almost seemed nervous too? That possibility sends his mind reeling in excitement. Perhaps you also feel something here?

The shrieking sound of a party blower has him wincing, the plastic hits his cheek as Wade sneaks up right next to him with a wide grin, "Sugar bear! Don't mind me, I overheard you tell Yukio about your date tomorrow. Now, spill. Who is this mystery man and does he have a twin by any chance? Brother or sister - daddy's not picky."

Logan's initial reaction to harshly shove the man aside dies in an instant when you laugh rather bashfully at the question. He prays to god it's another one of Wade's fucking jokes. However, that hope flies out the window as you hesitantly ramble on about this guy. Excusing himself, he leaves the apartment, ripping the party hat off in agony - not witnessing the guilt eclipsing your emotions.

Droplets of sweat linger at the ends of his hair as he places the last of Laura's cardboard boxes on the floor of her new apartment. After weeks of mulling it over, she decided to move a little further away, complaining about how rent was becoming too crazy. Logan offered to support her financially till she was good on her own, yet she strongly refused just as he expected.

Since she was no longer your neighbour, the chances of running into you dwindled over time. He saw you in passing last month when he came over to help Laura with apartment hunting. The logical part of his brain convinced him to not stick around, desperately clinging to the idea that you're not interested. But catching your expression fall as he dismissed your presence nearly made him run back to wrangle you into his arms, to whisper apologies and beg for forgiveness.

After an especially tiring day, Logan returns home, crashing onto the couch with a sort of emptiness as he stares at the ceiling. Both his roommates are muttering in the corner, afraid to call out his incredibly irritable mood of late - instead, walking on eggshells whenever he's around. It seems that Wade loses the hushed argument, settling a good arm's length away from him.

"Peanut." He drags, slowly, "Al and I are... worried about you. As much as this brooding, tough guy act is really doing wonders for my sexual wellbeing, I just can't let you Debbie-Down-Pour all over this parade."

"The fuck you want me to do?"

"You need a one-way ticket to pound town-" He chirps, and when Logan grunts angrily, Wade shrieks, shielding himself from any incoming attacks, "Don't hurt me!"

The aroma of coffee tingles his senses as he takes an exaggerated sip, ignoring the need to continue such an aimless, one-sided conversation. Across the table is one of Vanessa's acquaintances, Karen or Kira - he can't remember - mindlessly explaining why her previous dates didn't work out. Logan forces a nod here and there, humming in pretend acknowledgement while he concocts some plan to seriously bash Wade's head against the nearest wall.

In all honesty, he didn't know how the hell that bastard persuaded him to entertain this woman for the night, making a note to check his alcohol for any suspicious substances later. What he did know was that this was going as terribly as he thought. And while he might be awfully rusty in terms of dating, Logan's certainly not oblivious to basic body language cues. Deciding twenty minutes of this torture is enough, she hastily rushes out the building and that's the last of Karen he ever sees.

The grocery bags feel like cinder blocks in your hands as you walk down the street. Mentally scolding yourself for postponing this chore till the last minute, you huff in exhaustion, adjusting your grip every few seconds. A woman nearly bumps into you on her way out, you stagger backwards, watching her storm off. Startled by her rashness, you turn to glance at where she came from, gasping when you spot a familiar face.

“Logan?”

He snaps up, recognising that particular voice - your name leaves his lips softly. Mixed emotions swirl around his mind, yet, he can't help the way his heart jumps as you fill his senses, “Wha - what’re you doin' here?”

“I was just passing by... saw you through the window.” Your gaze drops to the half-finished cup of coffee opposite him, “Were you on a date?”

“Uh Wade - he...” Logan stutters for a moment, dumbfounded that you're even talking to him after his childish behaviour the last few weeks. He nods lightly as the unmistakable bullet of regret pierces his insides.

“It’s her loss anyway.”

God, he wants to apologise so badly. Your friendly attitude only serves to make him feel worse, but Logan thanks his lucky stars that you don't hate him. He definitely wouldn't have been able to handle any sign of resentment on your part - no matter how much he deserves it.

“What’s with the eggs?”

You laugh, looking down at the several cartons peeking through your bags, “I’m stress-baking.”

He's so lost in your eyes that it takes him a second to register your reply, nose scrunching in amusement, “Stress-baking?”

“Yes, it’s a perfectly valid activity.”

That draws a chuckle out of him. He raises his hands in defense, “I ain’t judgin’, doll.”

A comfortable silence takes over and Logan realises just how happy he is to see you again - how much he's missed you all this time. He opens his mouth to spill something out of pure impulse when you beat him to the punch.

“Why don’t you join me?”

It doesn't take much convincing and he's already fallen into a steady pace as you walk together - his fingers effortlessly hooking onto all the grocery bags. His chest threatens to explode when you lean towards him, moving aside for people brushing by. Logan wills his entire strength to not drape his arm across your shoulders in an effort to keep you safe.

Time becomes irrelevant when you're around. The frequency of his own laughter shocks him at first, but he's not really thrown off by the joy you bring out of him because - well, of course, you do. It's safe to say that Logan can't bake to save his life, though he doesn't mind this particular weakness as you giggle at his dreadful attempts to mix the cookie dough. Shamelessly, he watches you come closer, breaking into a tangent about proper kneading techniques - if you ask him to repeat any of it, he'd be stumbling over his words like a fool.

Eventually, he makes something that somewhat resembles your example. He dips his finger into the dough and lifts a small piece in your direction, "How's this?"

When you gently grasp his hand to lick the sweet mixture straight off, he thinks he's trapped in some wild daydream. Logan stares at you in surprise, cheeks turning into a telltale shade of red. Your hums of approval fall onto deaf ears as he remains frozen, wondering how you're so quick to move on from that bold gesture.

Every little thing you do stains his mind - from the way you dance around to soft music playing in the background, the way you focus all your attention on him whenever he speaks, even the way you warn him about the oven as if he could get burned.

His expression must've turned serious by how you suddenly pause, peering at him in concern. Bearing a rush of emotions, the words pour out of his mouth without hesitation, "I am so sorry."

"I was an idiot and I... avoided you 'cause I couldn't deal with these damn feelings-"

He stops.

He's revealed way too much. And judging by your face, that was definitely a mistake. Logan shuts his mouth, jaw hardening as he fights something heavy crawling up his throat. His eyes land on the door and all he wants is to escape from this shrinking room.

A whisper of his name fractures the glass cage he's built up around his heart. His boots seem to be cemented to the floor, unwilling to break free even as you still in front of him - a mere breath away. Your hands rest against his cheeks, slowly turning his head so he's compelled to meet your tender gaze.

Not a single sound slips out of him before your lips are on his. His heart pounds in his chest, burning at sensation. Logan leans into the kiss, hands settling on your waist, holding you as close as he can. Relief washes over him, he tilts his head slightly to deepen his movements - his breath nearly giving out when you whimper softly.

The loud ding from the oven has you pulling back with a faint chuckle. Logan smiles too, letting out a sigh as he lays his forehead against your shoulder. He presses his lips to your collarbone, whispering against your skin, "Does that mean what I think it means?"

"The cookies... or us?"

He gently pokes your side at that comment, mirroring your dazed look. Between the quiet exchanges of laughter, he knows exactly what this means - what you mean to each other.

His muscles feel looser with each stride, embracing the breeze tangling with the warmth pooling inside from your touch moments ago. Logan makes his way home with a kind of ease he hasn't felt in forever, chewing on a cookie you insisted he taste.

As he walks through the door, Wade rests his chin on his hands, “So… how did it go? I see you’re enjoying the post-bang baked goods.”

Logan rolls his eyes, not wanting his mood to be spoiled. He grumbles under his breath, your name accidentally slipping out.

"You ran into angel-reincarnate?" Wade gasps, "Oh. Finally putting that horse cock to good use." Clapping excitedly, he follows after Logan, "Wait a second, this fic is tagged fluff. There'll be no fucking on my watch, partner!"

Logan slams the door to his bedroom behind him, blocking out Wade's muffled chattering.

"She had you cosplay as Paul Hollywood all night? Goodness! The power she possesses. I must gain all her secrets."

"Fuck off."

Wade grins to himself, quickly pulling his phone out to shoot off a text.

Wade: Project-Wolvie-Gets-Pussy is a go!

Laura: We are NOT calling it that.

[nothomegal]

"Kiss. Teach. Love!"

(Mr. Crawling x GN! Reader)

No way, NotHomeGal actually revived? Yup, I did. Homicipher brought me back to life from the depts of my creative burnout (o゜▽゜)o☆

This game really scratched a part of my brain I didn't know was there, but I'm not complaining!

And no, I won't be abandoning the slasher fandom, but I must say it will take some time to come back to write those right now, but I'll do my best to rekindle that spark!

Okay, enough of my yapping. Hope you enjoy this Oneshot (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

Summary: after learning that sometimes objects from the human world may fall into the realm you're currently stuck in, it became a common activity for you to scavenge around the junk to pass time, and your ghost companion always seems so curious about it!

Warnings: none really just fluff, Mr. Crawling being too cute for a mortal soul to handle.

Side note: yeah just like in most (basically all) of my fics, MC (or Y/N) will be Gender Neutral! So everyone gets to enjoy the story with their favorite ghost man :]

AND! Here's the link of the dictionary I used for the fic to put ghost words heheerhkj.

Word count: 3.6k

It's been so long, they think at least. Time feels stuck in place, yet in the deepest part of (Y/N)'s conscience they know it's not true, that the time and everything outside these lifeless concrete walls is very much alive.

Life goes on, it keeps moving regardless if they feel it or not, time is passing just like it always did... Yet, they feel stuck. Numb. It's like their mind and soul are slowly melting, becoming one with this dimension they begrudgingly started to call "home", even if it's not... This is not their real home!...

It's not!...

It's not...

It's not...?

—"☨ д つ 々?"— (Sad)

A quiet gasp left (Y/N)'s lips when suddenly something brushed against their leg as that soft voice spoke next to them, that "something" being the very long, dark hair of their ghost companion.

They turn their head, almost flinching at the sight of how close Mr. Crawling was to them. Shoot, sometimes they forget how unnerving his appearance is, especially when he creeps up on them like this, though unintentionally.

—"ત ટ д ☨ д つ 々?"— (You Sad)

He repeated the question, his usual smile now replaced with a small frown. His voice quiet and soft as always, but with that subtle quiver at the end that appeared whenever he's concerned.

(Y/N)'s breath almost hitched from that little but oh so sweet display of care. Even after all the time spent side by side with Mr. Crawling, they still periodically wonder what the hell did they do to deserve such kind perso... Ghost, in their life.

Before the entity's worry could grow, (Y/N) flashed him with a smile, shaking their head a little.

—"I'm alright, just a little distracted."—

Their answer did seem to soothe the ghost's worry a little. However, he leaned closer, more of his hair falling into (Y/N)'s body, sending small shiver through their form as the black locks brushed their legs, sensation that resembling a small breeze of air running across their skin. An odd, chilly feeling... But one that became very comforting and grounding for the human over the time, as it was like a gentle reminder of Mr. Crawling's presence, that they weren't alone.

—"つ ત บ บ λ ป こ ৺ נ ८ ک ટ ? つ ત บ บ つ ኟ บ ટ ?"— (Not Bad Feel Not Scared)

Their smile faltered for a brief moment, knowing exactly what he was talking about...

Even if it's been quite a while since (Y/N) had one of those episodes of fear and hallucinations, the memories of them are still haunting the human in one way or another, leaving this uncomfortable sensation under their skin. It's like feeling hands, snaking all over their body, slowly slipping under their clothes, creeping through their skin and flesh, trying to dig deeper and deeper, right to their very core, trying to reach something so deep inside of them and rip it away from them...

Their essence?

Their soul?

T̵͉̗̒ḣ̴̻̱̂ȅ̷͓͘i̵̤͙̐͝ȑ̶͈̖̏ n̷̳̻̬̮̯̟̗̙̩̻̮͊͋̾́͐͌̏͒̿̏̆̑͜͠ä̴̢̧̡̦͕̻̙̻͕̳̟́̊͊̾̄̈́ḿ̵̡̢̛̜͉̗̗̞͖̟͈̬͈̻͍͌̋̓̐̅͘͠e̵͇̹͈̤͕̮̺͉͚͈͔̭͇̔-?

The human then simply hums, shaking off the heavy feeling off their mind. Their gaze soon focuses back on Mr. Crawling's face, their smile creeping back on their features, but now brighter, happier.

—"つ ત บ บ λ ป こ ৺ נ ८ ک ટ . つ ત บ บ ጉ ሰ ટ נ."— (Not Bad Feel Not Together)

They replied cheerfully, confidently using the otherworldly language to make sure there is no room for doubts left.

Upon hearing their answer and seeing that smile he absolutely adored, Mr. Crawling himself smiles back, letting that characteristic high-pitched giggle of of his. And just like (Y/N) expected, the crawling ghost reached out and gently patted their head, ruffling their grayish hair a little.

—"ㄷコ ਦ υ ป ! ㄷコ ਦ υ ป !"— (Glad Glad)

(Y/N) giggled as well, already used to Mr. Crawling's joyful chirps at whatever little thing they do. Once satisfied, the ghost slowly retires his hand from their head and leans back to his previous position right next to the human in a raincoat, his dark locks trailing behind and sliding off (Y/N)'s legs as he gives them a little bit of space.

They hum, that happy smile remaining on their lips, brightening a bit their bandage-covered face, returning some of color and life to it. The human soon shift their attention back to what they were previously up to, which was scavenging and going through all the junk and rumble that fell down here from the human world.

While (Y/N) is the one going through the numerous items, Mr. Crawling remained focused on them. Staying next to their crouched form and curiously watching the things they periodically picked up and inspected, sometimes even picking something himself and asking what it is and what humans do with it.

The activity was simple, but it was like a huge breath of air for (Y/N) and a great way to distract their mind from the decay this world was putting them through, helping them remember who they are and what are supposed to be. A human, an unfortunate human that found themselves in this place of absolute madness...

(Y/N)'s train of thoughts stopped when their eyes suddenly caught a glimpse of something bright and colorful under a small pile of old, messed news articles. And after carefully pushing aside all the trash, they get a clear sight of what it is.

A manga cover!

(Y/N)'s eyes widened and their smile grew as they reach out and grab the manga book, picking it up and instantly flipping through the pages.

—"No way, it's actually in good, readable condition!"—

They exclaimed excitedly, eyes wandering through the pages with interest.

Mr. Crawling simply observed, curiously watching them inspect the book. He noticed that (Y/N) would always get super excited whenever they saw one of these colorful pictures, and it made him happy to see them happy! As well as to keep a mental note to find more of these to make them even happier.

However, as the human paused on one of the pages, probably to check if the paper is holding up alright after getting a little wet. Something completely different caught the ghost's attention.

Slowly, Mr. Crawling reaches his hand again, pointing at a particular drawing with his finger while tilting his head to the side, like a confused puppy would.

—"נ บ ਦ ኟィд ⊔ ટ ৺ ㅗ?"— (What They Do)

He asked, gently tapping the picture with his finger.

(Y/N) glances at the spot their ghost companion is pointing at, their eyebrows rising slightly as they see an illustration of two of the characters kissing. Oh, did they just spoiled themselves one of the subplots?...

—"This?"—

They asks, eyes flickering between the comic and Mr. Crawling's face.

—"π々⊔ λ ک つ ત コ ጉ ک こ?"— (Why Touch Mouth)

The ghost asked again, genuine curiosity lingering in his quiet voice as he taps the paper again, his head turning to the side to look at (Y/N). Despite half of his face being covered by his dark hair, they could practically feel his curious stare, almost like a kid waiting for his parent to answer.

—"ک  ጉ ㄷ π π々⊔ ?"— (Teach Why)

He asks, now his attention completely casted on (Y/N), patiently waiting for their answer.

The mentioned human stays silent at fist, seemingly surprised the ghost actually doesn't know what a kiss is and why people do it. However, the more they think about it, the less he can blame Mr. Crawling. After all, this world is not built for affection, and considering all the dangers that lurk here on daily basis, it's not too surprising that some residents of this place don't even know what affection is.

—"Well. This is called a kiss, 'kiss'."—

They explain, pointing at their lips as they spell the word for him.

—"K- K̴̻̍-K̶̥͔̒ḭ̷̢̆̾ṣ̵̠͊s̵̮̎̾-?"—

He attempts to repeat, though the sound comes more as a hiss rather than an actual word... Still, (Y/N) was proud of him for trying! And expresses such joy with a soft giggle.

—"Yeah, kiss. Uh..."—

They paused, thinking over their wording before continuing.

—"☨ บ п ป Kiss ત λ コㄷ ک  ጉ ㄷ π ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ."— (Human _ Desire Teach Love)

They finish, scratching their cheek with a sheepish smile, knowing that their explanation probably sounded wonky a weird, especially with that little mix between languages.

The ghost, makes a small "oh" sound, actually understanding their answer even with the odd wording.

Suddenly, Mr. Crawling's face lightens in puppy-like joy as he leans closer, his face just inches away from the human's when he starts to chirp back.

—"ત λ コㄷ ک  ጉ ㄷ π ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ! "— (Desire Teach Love)

(Y/N) raised their eyebrows at his words, their cheeks suddenly feeling a little warmer.

(Hold on, is he asking me for a kiss?!)

As flustered as they were, upon seeing that excited, happy smile of the ghost that they grew so attached to, they couldn't find the heart to tell him no even if their life depended on it. Beside, it's just a kiss, and they both like each other! So why not?

—"Eh... Hehehe. Okay, okay. You kiss like this."—

They answer, before suddenly leaning forward and pressing their lips against the cold skin of his cheek.

A soft, quiet gasp escaped the ghost's lips, the difference in temperature between his and (Y/N) body never failing to make his chest feel all funny, though not unpleasant type of funny. But now with the added softness of their lips and the hot breath casted on his face, it created a sensation he haven't felt before.

The human leans back a little, chuckling under their breath at the ghost's reaction. However, their smile begin to fade when they notice how still he suddenly got.

They go silent, patiently waiting for Mr. Crawling to say or do something, but he remained perfectly still and dead silent, like some kind of creepy statue. Did they just cross some boundary they didn't know about?...

—"Mr. Crawling?..."— you ask eventually, voice quiet. —"Are you alright? Did I-..."—

(Y/N) paused when he finally does move, slowly lifting his hand from the opened manga book and brushing his fingers against his cheek, right on the spot they kissed him a second ago.

Suddenly, another high-pitched giggle escaped the ghost as he immediately launches forward, forcing (Y/N) back and basically tackling them to the ground into that famous overzealous hug of his they came to secretly adore.

—"K̶̥͔̒ḭ̷̢̆̾ṣ̵̠͊s̵̮̎̾ ! K̶̥͔̒ḭ̷̢̆̾ṣ̵̠͊s̵̮̎̾ !"—

He cheerfully exclaims with his broken human speech, before mimicking (Y/N)'s action and pressing his lips against their cheek. Though, more than an kiss his gesture resembled a nuzzle, like big dog gently bumping his favorite person with his nose.

—"৺ ጉ נ ⊔ λ ત д ک  ጉ ㄷ π ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ! "— (Me Want to Teach Love)

(Y/N) just couldn't help but laugh at the sweet action of the ghost, their cheeks turning much redder and warmer than before. With their hands no longer being occupied by the manga book, they reach and rest their hands on Mr. Crawling's back, basically hugging him back as the entity continues to joyfully express his liking through the newfound gesture.

—"You're doing it pretty good! But this is not exactly a kiss..."—

They eventually say, sliding their hands from his back and instead resting them on his shoulders. At the sound of their voice, Mr. Crawling's affectionate nuzzles pause and leans back, tilting his head to the side with curiosity.

—"Yeah, you need to press your lips, not caress with them. Ehm..."—

They fall silent, their gaze adverting for a brief moment as they try to find the needed words to describe what they're trying to say, but all they get is a reminder of how poor and limited the ghost vocabulary is...

Mr. Crawling remained quiet, patiently waiting for (Y/N) to figure out their wording. He didn't mind the wait at all to be honest, patience being one of his biggest virtues after all. Beside, seeing the human mumble and emit noises under their breath while making funny faces, such as pushing their lips or furrowing their brows, was a very cute sight to witness!

When realized that words, human or not, won't cut it. (Y/N) decided to use actions instead, as their head was starting to hurt at this point from this damn language barrier. So, with a soft sigh their eyes flicker back at Mr. Crawling, who was still patiently waiting for them to figure out their wording, or maybe taking the chance to look and admire their face, or maybe both...

—"৺ ጉ נ ک  ጉ ㄷ π ત ટ д Kiss."— (Me Teach You)

They finally said, a hint of determination in their tone, though it was mostly directed to (Y/N) as they try to push through their own sudden rush of shyness and fluster. How comes they can be all giggly and cuddly when Mr. Crawling literally tackles them, but then turn into a blushing mess from a little kiss?! Ugh, even they start to make less sense the more they stay in this world...

At their words, the ghost seemed almost ecstatic. He already was eager to get any sort of attention from (Y/N), let alone affection. So the mere thought of feeling their lips pressed against his skin again made his whole body almost shake.

(Y/N) could feel the ghost's body grow tense from the overwhelming joy, and it was such a strangely endearing sight to witness; an otherworldly entity acting like an overjoyed puppy about to receive his favorite treat.

They giggle again, giving his shoulders a gentle squeeze before speaking.

—"Okay hehe... Eeh... Look, you kiss like this, 々ኟп৺."— (Look)

They say before leaning closer, the distance between their and Mr. Crawling's face growing smaller and smaller, until their lips finally come in contact with the ghost's other cheek.

They can feel him shiver, clearly still not used to the new sensation, but he was definitely loving it judging by the way his long arms slightly closed around their body, almost hugging them and pressing their smaller form against his taller one.

(Y/N) leans back a tiny bit, taking the chance to simply look at the entity who was holding them in it's embrace so tenderly. Of course, this is not the first, nor last, time they'll be held by Mr. Crawling. But... Right now, there's something different, they feel different. Their heart is pounding like crazy, yes. But they no longer feel flustered or embarrassed, they feel strangely in peace in fact.

There's always been something captivating about the crawling ghost, even with his unnerving traces. The way his long, black hair surrounds them, a void that's isolating both from the outside world, covering them like a veil, making each the protagonist of the other's gaze. For a monster-filled place like this, the moment felt almost romantic.

The human let a soft exhale, their lips parting ever so slightly. And before their brain could even realize it, (Y/N) was already leaning forward again.

They don't know what came over them, but their mind, their heart, and even that little voice was telling them the same thing...

{Do it.)

They press their lips again, this time against the tip of his nose, getting one of these little "eh" sounds out of him.

They didn't stop there however, instead starting to pepper the ghost's face with more kisses. His cheeks, his forehead, his jaw...

(Y/N)'s movements were slow and delicate, keeping in mind the comfort of their otherworldly companion as they shower him with this new, intimate affection. They weren't quite sure what he was thinking about all of this, if he was getting overwhelmed or not, if he truly enjoyed or understood how much this moment meant for humans... But by how his arms seem to close more around their smaller form, how his fingers flex around the fabric of their raincoat, how his body seemed to gradually relax and even lean into the new, loving gesture...

Yeah, they knew he understood.

However, as (Y/N) was about to reach his lips, an inexplicable wave of hesitation came all over them, freezing them in place and incapacitating from moving back of forward, their heartbeat getting surprisingly, almost painfully loud.

(What's going on?)

(Why am I feeling so... Self-conscious?)

(No... No. I want to do it, I need to do it! Come on body, move! Move god damnit!)

They screamed inside of their mind, yet their body still refused to move, regardless of all the mental berating they were putting themselves through. Their grip on Mr. Crawling's shoulder tightened a little, like a silent attempt to ground themselves and remember just how close the ghost was, how he was waiting for them to continue, how he was waiting for them. But... They... They just couldn't move.

However, after a few beats of silence and inactivity had passed, is Mr. Crawling the one to finally break the tension and lean forward, his cold lips pressing against the warm ones of the human.

And just like that, all the doubts and hesitations had melted away in (Y/N), and everything felt alright again. No, more than alright. This felt perfect, intimate, sweet, and surprisingly innocent. Holding nothing but the affection, care and love the two beings felt for one another, now in it's purest way.

A human.

And a ghost.

Together, connected to each other not just in a physical way, but now in a deep, emotional way...

The kiss itself probably didn't last even 10 seconds, but in (Y/N)'s and Mr. Crawling's mind it felt like two eternities had passed, and many more would if they'd decided to keep going.

After breaking the kiss, the two just stay like this for a while, looking at each other as their minds clear from the haze and feeling of drunkenness the sweet exchange left behind. Mr. Crawling still on top of (Y/N), but instead of just hovering over them like he always did, now his arms were tightly wrapped around their frame, keeping them securely in place right between the ground and his body.

(Y/N) couldn't explain it, but right now they feel like they're falling again for the ghost. Just by being held in his embrace and hidden underneath his larger body, they felt so safe and at peace... So...

It's like they were home.

Their home...

He became their home, their safe place, their happy place...

Him...

—"λ ک ሰ ৺ ટ ?"— (Are you okay)

Mr. Crawling suddenly asked, his smile faltering as his embrace on them tightens a little. It was almost like he was concerned he did something wrong and broke them, what a sweetheart.

(Y/N) blinked, noticing they were probably staring and zoning out with this little realization of theirs, realization that their real home was not in this or their world.

It was with Mr. Crawling.

Or at least, that's what their heart told them.

—"I'm fine."—

The human said in a soft voice. Their body leaning forward while speaking, snuggling closer to the ghost's chest, the action feeling like a little dejavu to the time he hid them from the man in red.

Ugh... The sole mention of that guy is still sending shivers through their body, so let's not think about him.

—"৺コኅ ጉ ሰ ટ נ ৺ ጉ נ ሰ ኟ つ ጉ."— (Us Together Me Happy)

Mr. Crawling didn't take long to let yet another high-pitched giggle, his head coming to rest on top of (Y/N)'s, nuzzling gently against their hair and raincoat hood.

—"ㄷコ ਦ υ ป ! ㄷコ ਦ υ ป !"— (Glad Glad)

He chirped cheerfully, his arms tightening just a little to give the human a gentle squeeze.

—"ત ટ д ሰ ኟ つ ጉ ৺ ጉ נ ㄷコ ਦ υ ป !"— (You Happy Me Grateful)

—"৺ ጉ נ ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ત ટ д !"— (Me Like You)

—"৺ ጉ נ ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ጉ ሰ ટ נ ત ટ д !"— (Me Like Together You)

All (Y/N) could do at the moment is giggle and attempt to keep up with his excitement. Jeez, they forgot how talkative Mr. Crawling gets when excited. They reach out at some point, affectionately rubbing his back like a quiet request to slow down, which the ghost quickly complies by stopping his speech and instead resorting just to the nuzzling.

The two remained like this for quite a while, just enjoying this precious moment of having each other close. Even if they knew that the next time (Y/N) needs to take a nap, they'll be in embraced again.

—"Alright, that's enough for now.—

The human muttered, giving the ghost's back a few gentle pats like a way of saying that they wanted him to move.

Mr. Crawling doesn't try to protest at all, surprisingly. And after giving one more squeeze, his arms loosen around (Y/N)'s form and he slowly lets go, his body getting off them and instead settling right by their side. That's probably the reason he didn't complain about letting go, knowing he'd be next to them one way or another.

(Y/N) chuckled again at the ghost's sneaky antics, finding them pretty adorable. And after reaching out to pat his head again, the human settles into a more comfortable position and grabs the manga book they previously dropped from Mr. Crawling's surprise-tackle-hug.

—"Okay, let's see what this is about..."—

The human muttered to themselves while opening the book and starting to read the story, deciding to go blind into it and discover the plot as they progress with the story.

Mr. Crawling in the meantime had found his comfortable spot by placing his head against (Y/N)'s shoulder, with one of his arms resting across their waist, keeping them in this half hug.

Even if the ghost didn't understand a word, the illustrations of the manga were very helpful and allowed him to follow the story along with the human. Though there were things he also didn't quite understand about human behavior, it wasn't a big deal since (Y/N) would always chive in and explain him things.

As the two lay there, reading, Mr. Crawling suddenly lifted his head and pressed his lips against (Y/N)'s cheek gently, this time actually kissing them.

—"৺ ጉ נ ک  ጉ ㄷ π ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ત ટ д ! "— (Me Teach Love You)

He said in a sweet, happy tone that nearly made (Y/N)'s heart explode. Ugh, seriously who gave him the right to be so cute!?

—"ㄷコ ਦ υ ป."— (Grateful)

—"ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ৺ ጉ נ ?"— (Like Me)

(Aaand there he goes again. Yup, high-maintenance type...)

(But he's my high-maintenance type.)

—"ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ત ટ д."— (Like You)

They replied warmly, planting another kiss on top of his head, gaining yet another lovely giggle from the entity before returning their attention to the manga. The ghost soon following their example, settling back into his previous position, occasionally nuzzling against their shoulder like an affectionate cat. They could swear he'd be purring if he could.

And while reading the manga, (Y/N) couldn't help but smile, but also dread a little at how the next days would go now that Mr. Crawling learned about kissing and what it meant...

...

They're going to get tackled A LOT.

"Won't they?"

[neonovember]

bucky barnes as a husband headcanon!

heavily inspired by my steve headcanons here, I wanna try my hand at writing more of james. he is the epitome of devotion, he falls first and falls hard.

this kind of takes part in an alternative au (think avengers are still together but its post the falcon and the winter soldier)

he is canonically good at cunnilingus

you think I’m joking? This man divulges into a rabid animal the second he gets close to your thighs. He is on his knees whilst your pressed up against the counter rubbing his face against your clothed crotch moaning and grinding in the air

he says if he could have gotten a taste of you while he was the winter soldier it would've required his brain and reversed the brainwashing

’to be alone with you’ - hozier is bucky’s song

like steve, he feels the isolation and ghost-like feeling of being lost in time. Brooklyn doesn't feel like home anymore, he constantly reaches for you, even in sleep because you are the thing he now belongs to.

you can never get used to how intense bucky just..stares at you. Every single moment of the day you'll just catch him watching you silently not saying a word. It wasn't creepy, no it had this protective almost darkness to it that was all consuming. At one of Tony’s parties, he’s watching you across the room with a glass in his hand or mysterious and shit. (probably thinking about when is a polite time to leave)

which is never because bucky just drags you both out of every gathering. Every goodbye is an Irish one

man bun bucky. That’s it.

lets you cut his hair when it gets to the point of covering his eyes. Sometimes his stubble too, thumb circling and grazes your thigh as you lean over him with a scalpel.

most of the team are still gobsmacked at how bucky justs..trusts you. Whether it be with a shaving, or jumping out of a corner. If any of the team tried to pull a knife on bucky he would probably (not) accidentally break their jaw

after missions all the Avengers know he’ll be offline for at least a couple days to be with you. What they don’t discuss is half of those days are fucking you bruised. He gets all pent up and irritated when he isn’t around you, it’s like you recalibrate his mood back to baseline regular bucky when he can finally sink into you.

doll, darlin’, honey

if you think steve is possessive…just exponentiate that to the power of 10 and you have husband bucky. Are we forgetting this man used to be the winter soldier? he's cute and adorable but also can be fucking horrifying. I’m talking blank face breaking a mans jaw cause he looked at you funny

very casual in his superhuman abilities to protect you. 

silky dulcet notes of etta james, the album sam had gifted you both playing as you cut up some root vegetables. It’s summer and the night is long and warm, and you and bucky are humming as you prepare dinner. You're twirling your hips, Bucky is leaning against the countertop, half trussing the chicken and the other watching you when he suddenly stops. You don't notice it at first, until he cocks his head to the side, kind of blinks and moves to turn the saucepan on low. You turn to him, and he grabs for one of the kitchen knives on the bench before reaching for you.

"there's someone in the backyard"

all nonchalant, like it had been a burrowing animal stuck under the floorboards. he motions for you to continue, turns up the record player a bit and walks into the backyard without a sound.

this man is touch starved, of course he is cock warming after. each and every time.

one of the things bucky loved about you is at ease he felt, he could talk to you and spill everything out in a way he never could with dr raynor or even steve.

there was a bit of distance from him when he first met you, he was awestruck, even more silent than he usually was. Just stared at you longingly, standing off to the side. he didn’t think he could be anything but feared, it genuinely got to the point where you thought he didn't like you or that you had done something wrong. when steve had told him this, he nearly died. no, i'd like to think he's heart stopped for a couple seconds seriously. than got up from fainting, took you aside, and kissed you against the back of sarah's backyard door on the fourth of july.

stations a few target practice posts in your backyard. teaches you how to shoot, chest pressed up against your back as he helps move your body in the right position. always make sure you know where the weapons are in the house

singing to records whilst he's cleaning said weapons at the table

takes you to all the places still standing he remembers in Brooklyn, you hold his hand and let him rest against your shoulder when the past gets caught in his throat.

Steve finds a place in the city with actual good music, where people actually dance, and it becomes your spot every Friday.

yeah, one thing bucky remembers would be his muscle memory of the dance floor, he’s goooood. Teaches you everything he knows in your kitchen of course, always ends up with you making out on top of each other though

dry humping like teenagers, bucky with his low hanging jeans, not wearing boxes and making a mess just from the taste of your mouth

actually, sometimes breaks down in tears when he realises you’re his wife. Like forever.

always thinking about you, what you're doing, if you've eaten. even if hes in the middle of recon you will be in the back of his mind.

leans over and loops his dog tags around your neck whenever he leaves for missions. kisses your eyelids when your sleeping and the fight calls him

the second time you and bucky visited Wakanda he had Shuri craft the ring to be fused into his vibranium finger..yeah I know.

bucky isn’t the extroverted talking type, but with you he is constantly just yapping..about anything and everything. Following you around the house like a puppy, coming to you for the answers about the new world and questions he always harboured even before the ice

bucky is hilarious, he's already an adonis, but he could laugh you of your pants

can’t bear fighting with you, he never yells. He just kind of goes quiet and takes a walk

you guys live in a house with a huge backyard and a wraparound porch

loves cooking, lets him turn his mind off sometimes and make you something hearty and warm. he has a frilly gingham patterned apron he wears and his curls are wrapped into a bun with your scrunchie. floor always ends up on his cheek, and you always end up on the kitchen bench with his mouth on you

night terrors had him sleeping in a sleeping bag next to the bed, he refused despite your attempts. Sometimes he'd wait till you fell asleep against him and make the heartbreaking quiet separation and sleep on the floor

sometimes likes to take of his arm around the house, especially sleeping. Keeps it near in case though, for you.

he’s thick everywhere…took an hour of foreplay minimum to get you ready for him. You both will never get used to each other, needing to take a moment of hushed gasps and groans when he first sinks in

the wedding was in Sams backyard in Delacroix, just Sam, Sarah, the kids and Yoshi and the team

fairylights wrapped around the spanish moss of hanging trees, soft jazz and hard liquor. Sarah’s seafood boil and a dance floor where bucky spends half the night with you there

dad!bucky on the other hand..now that is a different ballpark. wait no actually, just him when you're both expecting. let's not forgot when he stormed into the tower and broke through the office doors to ask why on earth tony had scheduled him a mission so close to the birth of your baby, tossing him his phone which was now crumbled heap of metal in the shape of his fists....(you were two weeks along)

[steddiehasmywholeheart]

Thinking of Steve with PTSD from the torture in Starcourt. (TW: explicit memories physical torture)

Steve, who wakes up feeling hands punch him. Steve, who sometimes gets his fingers caught on knots in his hair, tugs at them accidentally, and suddenly feels the needle against his neck again. Steve, who can't remember the last time it didn't feel like someone was touching him, even when there's no one there.

During the day, it's not so bad. It whispers over his skin, but sometimes it's like it goes completely silent, drowned by the chaos of the kids or Robin's antics. But nights, or any time he's alone in his house, are hard. His skin burns from being slapped, pinched, injected, and the walls waver and morph into the basement of Starcourt for hours.

Obviously, Robin get's it, she was there too, so the pair try to spend as much time as possible together. But on the night's she's working, or her parents force her in and Steve out, he struggles, avoiding his house like the plague.

It's on one of these nights he meets Eddie. Eddie, who's a little skeptical of him, but who saw his fall from grace, and can see the wild fear in Steve's eyes from a mile away. Eddie, who's always ready to adopt a stray sheep. Eddie, who's babbling brings him back to earth, even when he has no idea what he's on about. He learns Eddie's funny, and loud, and brings life to his sickeningly quiet home in a way no-one else can, and Eddie learns he's not a stuck-up bully of a jock, and it quickly becomes a routine for them to meet whenever Robin's busy. Overtime, Eddie learns Steve struggles because of what he went through in Starcourt, but not much else.

One night, he rocked up to Steve's for a movie night, and he can tell instantly it's a bad day. Steve looks haunted, there's no other word for it. He knows he's going to have to pull out the extra Munson Special to be able to get a real smile out of him tonight.

But it doesn't work. In fact, Steve just seems to be getting worse.

He keeps zoning out, knuckles wise where they grip his jeans, the sofa, anything. And not only is he shaking in general, he's also jolting. And... dodging. Like some invisible figure is hitting him.

Eddie's so worried, he actually stops talking, just watches for a little bit and. Steve doesn't notice. He just keeps breathing too fast. Keeps staring at some ghost in his past. Keeps flinching.

Saying Steve's name isn't enough to get his attention, so slowly, carefully, Eddie reaches for him, placing a hand on his arm, just lightly. But it's enough to make Steve reel back.

They're both apologising in seconds, Steve looking distraught as he assures Eddie it's fine, he's just being stupid, and Eddie saying he should have asked, it's no big deal. But Eddie doesn't miss the sheen in Steve's eyes as he nods, or the tremble to his lips.

He takes a deep breath. Asks, "Steve? what's going on?" Watches as Steve tenses impossibly more for one second. Two. Then crumbles.

"I- I can just f-feel- and-and it hurts, and I don't-"

"Okay, okay, what can I do?"

But Steve just whines, because he doesn't know, he just feels pain everywhere and he just needs to make it stop.

Cue Eddie wracking his brains, and asking where it hurts the worst. Cue Eddie asking if Steve trusts him (and of course he does). Cue Eddie talking Steve through what he's about to do. Cue Eddie gently reaching out to touch Steve's neck, rubbing his thumb over it gently, holding his breath as Steve goes rigid underneath his hand, only to let it out when a significant amount of the tension just bleeds out of him a few moments later.

Slowly, Eddie works his way around all the sore spots, murmuring soft assurances, gaining more confidence as Steve trembles less, breathes easier, and melts under his touch.

They end up with Steve's face buried in Eddie's shoulder, Eddie's arms around him firmly, but not tightly. And Steve doesn't have the words to explain why he needed this, what had caused this. But it doesn't matter. Because Eddie's got him.

From then on, Steve's always got someone to help him remember his body is his. Eddie doesn't hesitate to welcome Steve with a hug, run his hands over Steve's wrists, trail fingers over Steve's neck, or just wrap him up in a blanket and snuggle with him and watch a movie. It doesn't matter that Steve's not allowed to explain. He can piece enough together himself (and after Vecna, he learns anyway). It just matters that Steve is sleeping easier, and laughing more brightly. It just matters that Steve is his.

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

The Nightmare Before Christmas Lost in The Book: Over The Spiral Hill

{1} {2}

Being stuck in a strange book was not what you expected, now you had to worry about your fellow Ramshackle doormates!  You hoped they would be fine, without Yuu or you. You glanced at Yuu and Grim, the two students happily looking over the strange pumpkin patch.

You look away only for a moment, hoping to see what was over the garden wall. Instead what caught your interest was the odd scarecrow hidden in the shadows. Raising a brow, you walk closer, hoping the moonlight would shine on the object.

“(Y/N)! Look at this one!”

You pause, you turn attention back on Grim as you see the little furball try to pick it up. 

You sigh, feeling the wind play with ends of your clothes, about to walk over to the two. An idea forms in your mind!

Kneeling down, you notice the scarecrow seemed much closer than before. Gently picking up the smallest fruit, the unmoving straw body was MUCH closer now!

You tilt your head, eyes shining with curiosity. You notice the sign above its head, “Halloween… Town.”

Reading aloud, you turn away, a sweet laugh leaving you, flustered as you hold the autumn fruit closer. “I… Hope you don’t mind.” You say to the scarecrow, “I promise to return it.”

Turning away, you carefully walk through the pumpkin patch towards your companions. Letting out a cough to grab their attention, you hold the pumpkin as if it were a skull.

“To be.. Or Not! To be.. Such is the question..!” You quote, expecting a laugh. Instead, Grim frowns in confusion. “To be what? A pumpkin?” He questions.

“No. It’s Shaksphere? Yuu, please tell me you know!” The Prefect shrugs, tapping their chin thoughtfully. “It sounds familiar…”

Going back to the scarecrow, you lean up against the wooden pool. Fluttering your lashes dreamily, letting out an over-dramatic sigh, “My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite.” You state, raising the object close to your lips, as they pucker.

Yuu huffs, about to retrieve the fruit as Grim lays on their shoulder.

“I still don’t get it! But whoever this shake-ysphera guy is, sure is dramatic.”

“Well, that line was Juliets… From Romeo and Juliet…” You murmur as you chuckle at Yuu snatching the pumpkin away, placing it next to its brethren on the soil. “Rome and Jule?”

“No… Okay let me explain.”

Heading to the other side of the scarecrow, you say another quote. “A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life; Whose misadventured piteous overthrows. Do with their death bury their parents’ strife.” 

“Hmm… Henchman, do you get it?” Grim questions the other magicless human. They nodded thoughtfully, the wind tussling their hair.

“Kinda like... Christmas and Halloween, two opposites and can’t collide.” Yuu states proudly like they figured out the code!

“Oh so like that made-up holiday you created during winter!” Grim states, pointing a paw at you.

“IT’S NOT-How is that even-?” You groan, moving away from the protector of the patch. You try to explain, or direct the conversation elsewhere.

A glove-like hand grasps your own, as an unfamiliar laugh rings behind you, Yuu and Grim gape in fear while you  freeze. A young man with a grin steps into your view, his grip like a spider's web, strong yet delicate when holding your palm. 

“I greet you with a kiss, for this wonderful encounter..~!” 

-

“Gino! What am I to do with these!?” Foulworth asks his companion, holding the box of decorations in worry. “(Y/N) and Yuu instructed us before, but this not as simple as I hoped.”

The fox-beastman grumbled, poking at a strange velvet hat with a cotton ball placed on top. Mixed in with the other Halloween items placed inside the brown box.

Rollo scoffed from his seat, hiding his sour words into his silken handkerchief. Watching the two fumble with green and purple tinsel as the ghosts aid them.

-

[Ya’ll, I’m head over heels for mister Skele-boi over hear. He’s voiced by one of my all-time va’s. So I’m just in awe! I’ve been squealing all day about him! I might, possibly write for this event if anyone is interested. Let me know!]

[bamfkeeper]

Reunion.

RQ: 'I was hoping for some hurt/comfort 🙏🏽. I was never really satisfied with Kurt and Amanda's reunion after he came back to life(aside from the fact that that ship gives me a major ick for ibv reasons). It was so anticlimactic! You would think a woman who knew him all his life would she'd a few tears. I was wondering what your take on a reunion scene with Kurt would be? Like the reader was a member of the X-Men and saw Bastion kill Kurt. Because of her grief she leaves the team unable to cope from the loss. And then after years of being without him he just shows up at her apartment just like he did with Amanda.' - @gildedjerk

Pairing: Kurt Wagner x GN!reader

Warnings: Major character death | Descriptions of injuries | Mourning & grief | Happy ending ofc

A/N: Wooo I had a lot of fun with this one. Angst and comfort, yum. Anyway I did try to give a realistic response to him coming back from the dead. I was stuck between two reactions but I think this one is good. I hope you enjoy! Unedited hehe WC: 3.0k

It had only been a week. A week since your heart became slow, dull, and empty.

The mansion took a hit. The team broken into pieces.

It was unusually quiet around the manor. Normally, the sound of padding footsteps and excited laughter and voices filled the halls, but now...it was silent. You weren't' the only one that lost something, but by all hell, you deserved to grieve.

You hadn't left the bedroom you shared for days, your body curled tightly on the bed, clutching his suit against your chest as if it were a lifeline. Tears flowed endlessly, soaking the pillow beneath your head. The salty streams seemed inexhaustible, leaving your eyes red and swollen, leaving you with a constant headache you ignored. You were likely severely dehydrated from the constant outpouring of grief, but in your state of mourning, those concerns held no importance to you. All you desired was to be left alone with your sorrow, to process the loss in solitude.

His suit bore a large, jagged hole, Kurt's dried blood stained the fabric, a sight that simultaneously pained you and kept you connected to him. You couldn't bring yourself to wash it, fearing that doing so would erase the last tangible traces of his presence. The suit still carried his distinct scent, a bittersweet comfort that you clung to desperately. No amount of spraying with cologne could ever bring back his natural musk that he had, and you would rather die than get rid of it.

Embedded within the flexible fabric were tufts of his fur, some parts adhering more stubbornly than others. As you ran your fingers over these patches, you recalled with a mixture of fondness and anguish his playful complaints about how the suit would cause him to shed. Those light-hearted moments now seemed like echoes from a distant, happier time, making the overwhelming ache of his absence feel much worse.

The team struggled to regroup, attempting to rally support and formulate a plan of action in the aftermath of the blatant slaughter they endured. However, you found yourself emotionally paralyzed, unable to contribute to their efforts. The weight of loss and despair settled heavily upon your shoulders, making even the simplest tasks seem insurmountable. In a daze, you rose from your seat, your movements mechanical and detached from conscious thought. You were on autopilot, nothing else mattered, you couldn’t even think.

You began to pack your belongings, carelessly tossing clothes into a small bag without regard for order or neatness. Your fingers then ghosted over the familiar fabric of his suit, the last tangible remnant of Kurt's presence in your life. With reverence, you gently lifted the garment, cradling it against your chest as if it were a fragile, living thing. This suit, once a symbol of his strength and selfless heroism, now served as a poignant reminder of all you had lost. As you held it close, memories of Kurt flooded your mind, intensifying the ache of his absence and solidifying your decision to depart.

You had no tears left. Not right now.

You took your bag and you left.

The nightmares were relentless, haunting your sleep with disturbing frequency. Night after night, your subconscious mind replayed the horrific scene of Kurt's demise, each detail etched with painful clarity like you were reliving that exact moment over and over again. The vivid imagery of Bastion's merciless act - the brutal impalement - refused to fade. You could still see, with sickening precision, the crimson spray erupting from Kurt's azure lips, staining his chest in a macabre pattern, the life essence dripping down his skin and mocking you. The memory of his lithe form, once so full of life and grace, suddenly tensing and then crumpling lifelessly to the ground as Bastion withdrew his weapon, was seared into your mind.

The physical sensations were equally intense. You distinctly recalled the disorienting waves of heat and cold that washed over you, and the violent tremors that wracked your body as adrenaline surged through your system in rage fueled torrents. The emotional trauma was blatant, manifesting in physical symptoms that left you feeling drained and vulnerable, pathetically and frantically scrambling to get to his side in the middle of the battlefield.

The image of your final moments with Kurt were the worst of it all, your eternal Hell that never ceased. Holding his rapidly cooling body in your arms, you watched helplessly as the light in his beautiful, golden eyes gradually dimmed. Even in his last breaths, Kurt's selflessness shone through, as he valiantly attempted to offer you solace and comfort, despite his own dire circumstances.

Your grief and suffering was a wound that never healed. Each night proved that it would only reopen from the desperate scab it tried to become.

As the years passed, your close friends from the mansion persistently attempted to maintain contact with you, but you deliberately distanced yourself from them. The desire to communicate with them had completely faded, and you found yourself wanting to sever all ties with the X-Men.

Your sole focus became an attempt to carve out an existence devoid of the tumultuous chaos that had been an inherent part of life within that unconventional, misfit family. You couldn’t stand any more pain, the loss you took had been severe, thinking about any of your old friends losing their lives was too much to bear.

You retreated into a life of solitude, taking on a mundane and unremarkable job that offered little stimulation or fulfillment. It wasn't so much living as it was merely existing - a bare-bones survival that felt hollow but required.

Yet, in your current state of mind, this was all you felt capable of managing. The weight of your grief remained a constant companion, refusing to lift even as time marched relentlessly forward. The passage of years did little to alleviate the profound sense of loss that had taken root in your heart, leaving you trapped in a perpetual state of mourning that colored every aspect of your isolated existence.

You tried therapy, for a while.

It didn’t help much.

You were constantly bombarded with well-intentioned but ultimately unhelpful advice. People would tell you to move on, as if it were a simple switch you could flip.

They'd say he was in a better place now, as though that somehow lessened your pain.

They'd remind you that years had passed, implying that your grief should have an expiration date.

But none of these platitudes actually provided any comfort or solace. In fact, being told to move on was perhaps the most infuriating of all. It felt dismissive, insensitive, and completely disconnected from the depth of your loss.

The suggestion to move on ignited a spark of anger within you. How could anyone possibly understand the magnitude of what you'd been through? You couldn't even share the full story with them, the pervasive discrimination and prejudice against mutants still ran deep in society, and you weren't ready to expose that part of yourself.

But regardless of the details you had to keep hidden, the fact remained that you had lost the person who brought light and love into your world. It was as if the sun had been extinguished, leaving you in perpetual darkness. The audacity of someone demanding that you simply move on from such a profound loss was both hurtful and enraging. How dare they trivialize your grief and dictate the timeline of your healing? Your pain was yours to process, and no one had the right to tell you when or how to do it.

You came back from a rather dreary work day, annoyed and angry with the world. It felt so unfair. You wondered if Kurt would be disappointed in the sheer amount of hatred that you allowed to consume you. Did it matter?

As you closed your door, you trudged through your barren apartment, your footsteps echoing in the emptiness. You hadn’t bothered to decorate, it was just you, and when you were home all you did was sleep. No reason to waste money on furniture.

Suddenly, a familiar scent wafted through the air - brimstone. That sharp, smoky odor that had haunted your senses for years now made its presence known once again. The acrid smell tickled your nostrils, bringing with it a flood of memories you'd rather forget. At first, you dismissed it as another phantom smell, a lingering remnant of Kurt that your mind conjured up in moments of solitude. After all, these olfactory ghosts had been your constant companions over the years, taunting and mocking you with their ephemeral nature.

You continued your way through the apartment, your mind wrestling with the reality of the scent. The logical part of your brain insisted it was just another trick of your senses, a cruel joke played by your subconscious. Yet, a small voice in the back of your mind whispered that something was different this time. The smell seemed more tangible, more real than the fleeting wisps of memory you were accustomed to. Still, you pushed the thought aside, convincing yourself it was nothing out of the ordinary.

You were just tired. It had been a long day.

As you rounded the frame of the door, preparing to step into the next room, an inexplicable chill ran down your spine. In that instant, you felt everything around you freeze up. The air grew thick and heavy, as if time itself had come to a standstill. Your muscles tensed, your breath caught in your throat as you looked at the familiar figure laying on your couch.

Kurt smiled at you, his familiar figure rising from his seat. His arms extended in a welcoming gesture, a warmth radiating from his presence that you hadn't felt in what seemed like an eternity. "Liebling...I've missed you so much," he murmured, his voice carrying the same tender inflection you remembered.

Every detail about him was overwhelmingly authentic - from the timbre of his voice to the subtle cologne mixed with that harsh brimstone that always clung to his clothes. Your senses were inundated with evidence of his reality; he wasn't just there, he was undeniably real.

A maelstrom of emotions surged through you, leaving you utterly bewildered.

What the Hell is happening?

The thought ricocheted through your mind, unable to find purchase in the face of this impossibility.

You found yourself frozen, incapable of formulating a coherent response. The shock of the moment had completely blindsided you, leaving you reeling as if you'd been struck. It was as though you were face to face with an apparition, a specter from your past that had inexplicably materialized before your eyes.

But this was no ethereal vision - this was tangible, corporeal.

The absurdity of the situation wasn't lost on you; if this was indeed some sort of phantasm, it certainly had a sick sense of humor.

Your lips parted as you let out a soft, trembling sound, his name barely a whisper escaping through the opening. Your eyes, wide with disbelief, were glued on him, taking in every detail of his familiar yet seemingly impossible presence. His demeanor faltered slightly as he noticed your lack of enthusiasm at his sudden appearance, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features.

"Ah, liebe...I...understand this might be quite shocking to you..." He mumbled out shyly, his voice a mixture of hope and apprehension as he slowly walked towards you, each step careful and measured. "But, I am back. I am truly here, alive and breathing. Can you see that?"

You remained rooted to the spot, unable to bring yourself to move a single muscle. The overwhelming tsunami of emotions that crashed over you felt like it was too much for your body and mind to handle. A wave of nausea washed over you, making you feel as though you were teetering on the edge of consciousness, your stomach churning violently. The sheer impossibility of the situation threatened to overwhelm you completely.

You couldn't fathom how he could be here, standing in your apartment, flesh and blood, after years of believing he was dead. The grief you had painstakingly lived with, the torturous reminders that mocked you every day - it all came crashing down around you in an instant, leaving you reeling in a maelstrom.

Kurt opened his mouth to speak, sensing the overwhelming shock that had gripped you. He anticipated a joyous reaction, but instead, a heart-wrenching, soul-shattering sob escaped your lips, echoing through the air and piercing the silence between you.

Taken aback, Kurt's body tensed, his eyes widening with a mixture of concern and confusion. This unexpected outburst was far from the jubilant reunion he had envisioned in his mind. The stark contrast between his hopeful expectations and the raw, emotional reality before him left him momentarily stunned.

You had always been strong and level-headed with your emotions, but seeing you like this made him realize his absence and sudden appearance again had clearly done some psychological damage. "L-liebling," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper, thick with uncertainty and worry.

Hesitantly, Kurt extended his hands towards you, offering comfort and desperate support. However, the fear of exacerbating your distress held him back from actually making contact. His fingers hovered in the air between you, trembling slightly as he grappled with the desire to console you and the apprehension of potentially making matters worse.

Kurt bridged the gap between you with a single, desperate motion, not wanting to watch you sob any longer. His arms enveloped you, strong yet gentle, pulling you against his chest. You felt the solid warmth of his body, a sensation you had been deprived of for what felt like an eternity.

As he held you close, Kurt became your anchor to reality, proof that this wasn't just another cruel dream. His familiar scent washed over you, a mix of brimstone and something uniquely him, further cementing his presence. "I'm here, liebe... I'm here," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Es tut mir Leid... I never intended to be absent for so long, but... the circumstances of my return are a mystery even to me. Perhaps this is a divine gift, a second chance from Gott…a miracle. Ja?"

His words were soft, barely above a whisper, yet they resonated deeply within you. "I cannot imagine the anguish you've endured in my absence," he continued, his accent more pronounced in his emotional state. As he spoke, his hand moved in soothing circles on your back, a gesture so achingly familiar it threatened to unravel you completely.

In the safety of his embrace, years of bottled-up emotions finally found their release. The dam broke, and you allowed yourself to experience the full depth of your agony, your body shaking with the force of your long-suppressed grief. Kurt held you through it all, a steady presence as you wept the tumultuous sea of your emotions, whispering words of comfort and love in a mixture of English and German.

You don't know how long you cried for.

You felt your body gradually succumbing to exhaustion, your strength ebbing away with each passing moment. What seemed like mere minutes to your grief-stricken mind had, in reality, stretched into over an hour of uncontrollable sobbing. Throughout this emotional display, Kurt remained steadfast, his arms encircling you in an unwavering embrace, not daring to let you go. He bore witness to your anguish, listening intently to every heart-wrenching wail that escaped your lips, each cry a testament to the depth of your sorrow and mourning. He felt so horrible, seeing just how much you loved him and how the grief had overtaken your being.

Kurt did everything in his power to provide solace. He held you close, gently squeezing you with his arms, whispering soft reassurances, each gesture carefully crafted to soothe you.

"I'm here now," he murmured, his voice a balm to your frayed nerves. "I'm not leaving. I promise..." His indigo lips grazed your sensitive temple while he whispered gentle nothings against your skin. The contact was feather-light, yet profoundly comforting. He peppered your clammy skin with tender kisses, unable to hold back on his affections.

The sudden nature of Kurt's reappearance left you reeling. After enduring the agonizing belief that he was gone forever, his unexpected return stirred up a complex cocktail of emotions - happiness, relief, anger. A part of you yearned for the joyous reunion he seemed to expect, but another part bristled at the simplicity of such an notion.

How could he materialize out of thin air, after all the grief and pain you had endured, and anticipate an uncomplicated, happy welcome? You supposed that is his specialty…appearing suddenly in a rapid purple cloud with that happy smile exposing his fangs.

Kurt wanted that happy reunion. He wanted you jumping in his arms and that loving, passionate kiss he dreamt of and missed since his departure from this plane of existence.

But you couldn't give him that. Not now.

For now, you needed his comforting presence more than anything else. Recognizing your emotional state, he gently lowered himself onto the couch, cradling you in his arms. His embrace was firm yet tender, providing a sanctuary where you could finally release everything that had been weighing heavily on your heart. As he held you close, you continued to sob and cry into his chest, each tear carrying with it a fragment of the pain and stress you had been harboring for so long.

Time seemed to stand still as you remained in his protective embrace, your sobs gradually subsiding as exhaustion began to overtake you. He made no move to interrupt this cathartic process, understanding that sometimes silence speaks louder than words. His steady heartbeat and warm presence served as a lullaby, slowly lulling you into a state of tranquility you hadn't experienced in years.

The conversation you needed to have could wait.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you found yourself drifting into a deep, peaceful slumber - a luxury that had eluded you for far too long. His presence alone had snuffed out the vicious plague that infected your mind, the nightmares that were forced upon you over and over of his gruesome death were destroyed.

For the first time in years, you actually slept.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight & @/strangergraphics

Cover image from Nightcrawler #1 (2014)

[strawberrymochin]

𝐁𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 🎐

- sanemi shinazugawa x fem!reader

After your father sold you out in a brothel, life has never been the same. One night, you get to know a man wants to buy you out. Compelled to your fate, you get ready to leave. However things get bloody, and a demon attacks the brothel. Fortunately an accidental presence of a demon slayer saves you all. As the dawn breaks, the owner seems to be devastated at the formidable destruction and latches out on you. Much expected from your fate, you say nothing but lower your head swallowing insults but what you didn't expect was the slayer ready to compensate, buying you out instead of the man.

Series genre/warnings- 18+ suggestive content | mdni | marriage of convenience | slight slow burn | sexual themes | blood | death | degradation | profanity | sanemi in denial for being whipped for the reader | masturbation | exploring dark themes | crack | angst to fluffy |

Taglist is open

series masterlist

The candlelights flickered casting it's dim hue over the room, as you closed the fusuma doors, taking a deep breath and get on gathering your belongings.

A few moments ago a man decided to buy you out. Your brothel lady was shocked at first but soon a smile of contentment coats her face, after all she was desperate to bid you off.

You sighed, tying the knot of your belongings tight, ready to go with the man who bought your freedom. Slowly you rise to your feet, taking around a look at the room you spend the last 8 years of your life. And there's a pang in your chest realising you couldn't remember any nights you spend in this room without crying. At this point you were unsure whether this was a room or a chamber of hell.

Hell— this was what your life looked like after your father sold you off in this brothel 8 years ago, when you were just 10. A ghost smile crosses your lips as you realise you had eventually forgotten how he looked like; how his voice used to comfort you; how his eyes would wrinkle seeing you playing with your little brother.

Everything changed that one day— the day you lost your mother and your little brother. If only you insisted to stay home that day and let your brother go foraging with your dad maybe things wouldn't have turned out like this.

Maybe you would have lost your life along with your mother, laid lifeless among the pool of blood staining your blue floral patterned kimono which you treasured dearly but your little brother would have survived. And you wouldn't have to play puppet in this world. If only.

If...only.

You slide the fusuma doors once again, head facing downwards, careful watching your feet touching the tatami mats on the corridors, fully stepping outside, marking a new change in your life.

You walk up to the corner, heading to the room your owner should be waiting for you.

The corridors are oddly quite today. Usually the other courtesans working here would be chatting around in the hallway or atleast make an appearance of sympathy when one among them gets bought out.

However none showed up.

You announce your arrival sliding the fusuma doors without much thinking when none answers.

The Second mistake of your life.

A strong metallic smell along with a hint of pungency striked your nose causing you to raise your head in a instant and the scene which your eyes swallows dries up your throat.

The brothel lady stuck close to the corner of the room shivering with fear as blood stained the right sleeve of her kimono. Your head turns to the opposite of the room— her husband laid there dead as a corpse, face terribly scratched, missing an eyeball while has rolled to the other side of the room and a hand causing blood to gush out of the wound.

Your blood ran cold as your thundering heart stilled for a second when you realised there's a third party present in the room, whom you totally ignored— the man who intended to buy you— your eyes met his black ones, darker even than the night of new moon, filled with malicious intent. His face seemed pale from before, veins ticking out on his face as his tongue latches out cleaning his blood painted lips with a swift curl, grinning at you.

"Ahh finally you're here!" He says throwing the hand of the owner he was munching on a few seconds ago. "W-what did you do?" You shout unbelievably, even shocking yourself to believe you have this tone. "Oh well, stop shouting honey, you see you were taking time and I was growing impatient with hunger....so I thought why not have a snack before dinner." He said pointing a finger at you as the word dinner slips out from his lips.

A demon.

This was indeed a demon.

The one about whom you've been warned of from your seniors.

You wanted to run away, but your legs seem to gave away it's remaining strength. Where are the other girls? Your mind drifts back to the corridors, now connecting the reason of silence. There were no blood spots or any smell in the corridors which means they either ran away or are hiding somewhere.

There's little you can do, but you make up your mind. Using all of your courage and strength you run to the brothel lady, grabbing her hand, pulling her out of the corner, making your way out. It's just a few steps away. The dead body of the husband was between you and the demon so there must be atleast a delay of few seconds for him to stop your attempt of fleeing. You just need to be fast, tightening the grip on the lady's wrist you run even more fast.

Just one more step and you will be out of the room. Hope shined bright in your eyes when you are suddenly flung backwards till your back pressed on the wall harshly and a hand grips your throat disarming you of any oxygen you had. Your hands no more felt the grip over the lady's wrist. The demon's face was only a few inches away from yours. Death was just a few blinks away. Why not give in? What else do you have to live for? You don't even know whether your father is alive or not. Why not die then? Reunite with your mother and cradle your little brother. Meet them in after life.

"Kill me if you want to," you cough out blood as his pitch black eyes stared into you, sniffing his meal with a cunning smile plastered on his face, "but spare the lady, she has nothing to do with it." You spit out the last of your oxygen.

"And who do you think you are to order me? I will devour both of you, my marechi" He shifts his body weight to his other hand, backing it gathering more force as it comes to latch on your flesh.

You squeeze your eyes shut. Ready to meet death. There's nothing you can do anyway.

A loud sound with a quick crack echoed through the air.

“Wind breathing: second form ”

Certain seconds pass but you feel nothing rather than rustling and a few gusts of wind.

“Claws- purifying wind”

Scared, you open your eyes. You're still alive. The hand still gripping your neck but the demon's body was disintegrating, turning into ashes. It's head was cut off laying on the ground spiting curses at you all. What happened? Your pupils turn to see the lady still trembling, laying beside the dead body of her husband as she eyes someone.

The demon's body slowly disintegrates, as your eyes come in view of a figure. Of a man. His back facing you. He wore a white half haori matching to the colour of his hair, which rustles in dense air in which bits of paper from the broken window frame floats. He sheathed back his sword, turning to look at you.

Lilac eyes locks in yours as the guy, face and body adorned with several scars came up to you. "You okay?" His husky voice rang aloud in your ears piercing the momentum of silence you experienced seconds ago.

Black surrounds your vision as you fill your oxygen deprived lungs with chunks of air and before you could answer his question, you pass out.

You wake up to the noise of several women gossiping beside you.

"Look, she's awake." The other courtesans chimed in noticing you gaining your consciousness.

"Are you okay?"

"Are you hurt?"

"Things must have been tough last night."

Last night? Your vision cleared a bit as you notice dawn's breaking. Last night........a demon latched into the brothel. "Where's the brothel lady is she okay?" You choke on your words, starting to cough as a courtesan offers you water patting your back. "She's okay but she can't use her right hand anymore. She also lost her husband. We were so worried but couldn't gather the courage to show up and ran away for the mean time."

"On our way fortunately, we found a hashira. If he'd not made here in time, I can't imagine what would have happened." Another courtesan spewed out her words, tears clouding her eyes.

"Hashira?" You ask.

"A highest ranking demon slayer." Your mind drifts back to the memory of his scarred face and lilac eyes, engraved before you passed out. 'You okay?' he'd asked which you didn't had the energy to answer.

"Oh is he still here? I should go and thank him." You push yourself up wanting to go thank that hashira who saved your life. The other kind courtesans tried to help you but you refused. You also planned to visit the brothel lady to check on her conditions. She must be devastated at the loss of her husband.

But as soon as you leave the room, your right cheek stinged with pain. The brothel lady was infront of you, fuming and raging. Her right hand was tightly bandaged as your hand travel upto your burning cheek to reduce the pain. She slapped you with her left hand.

"Useless girl! Why didn't you die yesterday?!" She spat bitterly as the girls surrounding you gasp at the scene.

"I-im sorry to cause you pain hinazuru-sama" you wince as she uses her left hand to grab your hair pushing you down at her feet. "If only you didn't lured that demon in with your filthy blood, my husband would have been alive! Why did I feed you all these years?! You brought no profit rather caused trouble with every customer we had for you! And now who's going to pay for th—" she was about to strike you once again when her hand was stopped by someone.

You didn't dared to look up, keeping your head low bowing infront of the brothel lady's feet.

"Shi-shinazugawa-sama...."

"What do you think you're doing?" The familiar voice you heard before passing out growled to the lady. "Is this how you treat all the girls who work for you to provide you three times meal a day?"

The courtesans take a step away seeing the horrific figure of the hashira, even if he saved their lives, his sole presence was intimidating enough to make shivers run through one's spine.

"I think you're mistaken shinazugawa-sama. I'm the one who feeds and takes care of the girls giving them chance to pay their debts."

"And if they desert refusing to work, how do you think will you able to earn?"

"They have to work and pay off their debts. And even if I see things from your perspective, this filthy girl earned me no profit. Then why shall I consider feeding her day and night? There's no man willing to buy her, if only the demon last night ate her instead of my husband...." Her voice cracks but she still continues, "I would have gotten rid of her and there would have been no destruction. Tell me. Who's gonna pay for my husband's death? Pay for the destruction of the brothel? Who's gonna buy her?"

You swallow all of her insults not wanting to look at her face. You have no words for your defence.

"Isn't it pathetic to disrespect your husband's precious life for some mere money?"

"money's the language world speaks shinazugawa sama, do you think you can survive without that?"

"How much?"

"huh?" The lady frowns upon the question of the hashira, confused how to interpret his question. Getting bored he releases her hand and takes out a huge amount of cash from his pocket, throwing it right on the face of the brothel lady.

"Get your stuff. We are leaving in 5 mins." He says. And for the first time till now, you raise your head, your eyes meet his lilac once again.

Some courtesans sprewed gossip while some were worried for you. Sanemi shinazugawa— the wind pillar of the demon slayer corps bought you out. He looked scary as hell and people would prefer staying away from him. Yet you had no other option but to gather your belongings which you packed last night and follow him out, leaving the brothel forever.

The amount he payed to the brothel lady covered all of your debts including the cost of the repairs of the last night's destruction. No wonder he was heavy in pockets— enough to shut the brothel lady's lips.

You follow the slayer in bright sunlight as he keeps walking in a fast pace making it difficult for you to catch up. "We split ways here. You go on your own way and I go on my own." He announces without looking back at you.

What? Didn't he buy you? Where are you gonna go? Normally when girls get bought out from a brothel, they are bought for the intention of the man to get married or just have a loose women by his side. If the slayer isn't going to marry you or have you by his side then why did he buy you in the first place. Where are you supposed to go?

By the time you get out of your thoughts, sanemi walked off way far. Panic rushes through your entire body causing you to sprint through the crowd wanting to reach up to him. You ran through the crowds hitting people and apologising, some cursing at your behaviour, however you were to spent to think about the societal judgements of people. Where are you gonna spend the night today?

Among the dizzying daylight, you rarely laid your feet out, being always shut behind the doors of those red curtains, it was difficult for you adjust in a crowdy place.

"Danna sama!" Sanemi turns at the familiar voice seeing you panting infront of him. "What the fuc— didn't i tell you to go your own way." You say nothing trying to catch up your breath.

Danna sama? A faint hint of embarrassment taints his cheeks red. Why the hell are you referring him that?

"Where's your home?" He asks getting annoyed.

"I don't have any."

"huh?"

"Eight years ago my father sold me off in this brothel, i don't know if he's alive or not. I have nowhere to go." Sanemi halts, turning properly this time to look at you. "Any relatives?" You look down, shaking your head.

Sanemi regrets his decision of getting you out of the brothel. Whatever happens behind that red curtains was none of his buisness. How will he carry out his mission with you around? He should have known that the line he works in allows no sympathy. What will he do now? Take you back to the brothel?

He wanted to shove you back from where he took you out. However he couldn't bring himself to do that. Unwillingly, he extends his arm as a crow sits on it.

"Follow this crow and wait for me till I get home." He orders and in a blink of eye the white haired slayer was gone.

What remained was his crow, now sitting on your shoulder as it caws, ‘Go to the east. The south east.’

You were shocked to see a crow speaking, shooing it away, but it came back to you everytime. Lastly you had no other option other than compelling to move as the crow instructs.

Time for taisho rumours-:

Next episode- Behind the estate of wind hashira

a/n- taglist is open, if you wanna get notified when the other episodes of this series come out, you can text me to join or comment. I hope you find this entertaining cuz my god I swear I've been thinking about this for days .......

© strawberrymochin 24 | plagiarism won't be tolerated |

[starsofang]

Change of Heart

hitman!simon x f!reader / FINAL

previous part

tw: NSFW, MDNI, mentions of suicide, heavy angst, please be cautious as always! <3

When life has completely and utterly failed you, you hire a hitman to take you out, too afraid to do it yourself. Instead of killing you like you had planned, he strikes up a deal with you, and you're too stubborn to bail out.

The weight on your shoulders was heavy and exhausting. It caused your body and soul to ache with a crushing feeling of grief. Your conversation with Price played in your mind tenfold, repeating over and over until it drove you to the point of insanity. You feared if you stayed stuck in the loop for a moment longer, your brain might short circuit and you’d succumb to life’s torturous game.

How had things come to this?

Two weeks ago, you should’ve been dead. Two weeks ago, you should’ve denied Ghost’s abrupt deal, you should’ve told him the truth – that you had no intentions of living past that very Friday the two of you planned meticulously to end your life.

Two weeks ago, you should’ve never met Simon.

What was meant to be a task given to you with the purpose of self healing had erupted into an even scarier nightmare. Life would’ve never been so complicated had you denied Simon and stuck to your original plan on desired death. It would’ve never been so complicated had you just done it all yourself instead of pussying out and asking him to finish the job for you.

Now, all that remained was a heart beyond repair, fragments of its shattered pieces being taken away with Simon when he had left.

He had the entirety of your heart, and you didn’t think you’d ever get it back. You couldn’t take it back if you wanted to. It belonged to him, and your heart was loyal to its owner.

All that was left was the, what now? Price had made it clear he couldn’t promise anything. Hell, you wouldn’t blame him if he had just said that in a half-assed attempt of comfort. For all you knew, Simon hadn’t a clue what was going on in the first place, or perhaps he didn’t care. Living without closure of what could’ve been had left you scarred and untrusting, even of the very man you’d fallen in love with.

Love was what always got you into this mess, after all. You couldn’t love yourself, so God was executing punishment by making you unlovable to everyone else. If anything, you should be thanking him for steering you away from more heartache.

Maybe this was how it was meant to be. Simon giving you a taste of what life could be if you had just tried harder, before pulling the candy right out of your mouth before you could protest that you weren’t quite finished with it.

You didn’t reach out to Simon. Even though you were blocked from the moment the two of you had sex and he ran, you didn’t dare try and test out your theory to see if he had undone his action. You weren’t even sure you knew what you could say to him.

While it was clear Price played a dirty hand in creating the drift between the two of you, Simon still allowed himself to be a puppet on Price’s string. It boiled you to the core, filled you with resentful distaste that you couldn’t quite swallow.

It was hard to accept that you hated him almost as much as you loved him.

No matter how angry you were at the world for the hand it was dealing you, you still couldn’t bring yourself to leave it. Not on your own. Even through the hole of emptiness that rattled you to the bone, a spark of hope shone from deep within you, and that was what kept you going. It was the faintest of light, fighting to stay ablaze. No matter how puny and weak it was, it was still there, cheering you on in a gentle voice to keep going.

As much as you didn’t want to listen, you did.

Life’s a bitch and then you die. But maybe if you gave it one final chance at redemption, things may work out in your favor this time. And if they didn’t? The original plan was always in the cards.

Simon left Price in the dust the moment he uttered those words. Go and get your bird back, Simon.

He had never heard something so beautiful, so breathtaking. It was his call back home, and he’d be an absolute tool if he didn’t rush to return to its welcoming arms.

He didn’t care how ridiculous he looked running along the streets in the middle of the night. Hell, he didn’t even bother to put his mask on. Tonight, he was Simon, and he was wearing his identity with pride. Ghost was tucked away in the darkest depths of his mind, caged in and hidden. With you, he didn’t want to be Ghost. He didn’t want to be a man who thrived off of the stolen lives of the innocent in order to pay his bills. He didn’t want to be the broken version of himself that imprisoned his own vulnerability.

He wanted to be the man who could give you a colorful life filled with painted sunsets and warm rays. Only Simon could do that, and he’d throw Ghost away if that was what it took.

The closer Simon got to your apartment, the more the nerves wracked his body with a faint tremor. Would you even speak to him? Forgive him? He knew he didn’t deserve it. Hell, he deserved a cold fist to the jaw and a stab wound to the heart.

The least he could do was try.

He pondered if he should get you something. Flowers, maybe, but when it came down to it, flowers were a pathetic excuse for an apology. No, Simon wanted to do this right. He had spent his entire life partaking in wrongdoings. For once, just once, he wanted to be good.

The sight of your building nearly had him throwing up on the concrete beneath his boots. It turned his stomach in a sickeningly sweet way, coating his tongue with bitter cottonmouth. For the first time since he could remember, Simon was scared. Downright terrified.

While the feeling should be seen in a negative light, he saw it as the complete opposite. It meant he was alive. He was still human. He still harbored emotions that Ghost had so desperately tried to get rid of.

Even after everything, he was still Simon.

His feet grew heavier and heavier with every step he took into your building, up the raggedy stairs, and down the dim hall, just like the routine he had always fallen into when waiting for you to return from work. Things may be different now, and he may be venturing on the same path with a different ending this time, but that didn’t mean he was led astray. Different could mean better, and he could only pray to the very God putting him through hell that his outcome would be brighter than before.

Simon didn’t know how long he stood outside of your door. He willed himself to knock, but he was struggling internally. The truth was, he was scared to see you. Seeing you meant facing the result of his regretful actions, and he wasn’t sure he could handle recognizing you as broken because of him.

He dug this grave, he wallowed in it, and now it was time to crawl his way out and make things right.

His fist shook as he raised it to knock on the door. Knuckles collided with the old wood, echoing sharply in his ears. Anxiety crept into his bones, leaving him in an uncomfortable suffocation. He felt as if he wouldn’t be able to breathe until you were in front of him. The room felt small, it was closing in on him. He wondered if this was a bad idea. Maybe he should’ve just left you alone, maybe he should’ve kept you out of his mess–

“Simon?”

The air that was tightening in his lungs exhaled in a slow, trembling breath, shoulders going slack from their tightly wound stiffness. Your voice was his oxygen, and he could finally breathe again.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, and God, did it feel jubilating to say that name again.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, and the bitterness in your tone was clear. It sunk into him like a thousand knives, coursing him with relentless pain.

“I need to fix this,” he gasped out. “Please, sweetheart, let me fix this. I know I fucked up, alright? I fucked up bad.”

You stared at him in disdain, but Simon could see the glimmer of a burning ache in your eyes that matched his own. You missed him just as much as he missed you, but your hurt overruled everything else. He didn’t blame you one bit.

“You left me after you had sex with me, Simon,” you spat with dripping fire that scorched him with every word. “You left me after everything. You expect me to just let you come here and tell me you fucked up, as if I didn’t know that?”

Simon could feel his resolve slipping away. He wanted to panic, to spit out useless apologies until one of them worked and you caved, but that wasn’t how this was going to go. Simon would have to work for it, and he’d be damned if he let you slip away. He’d spend the rest of his life working for it if it meant having you in the end.

“Sweetheart–”

“Fucking– I’m not doing this in my doorway. Just… just come inside,” you sighed out, utterly defeated. You didn’t have to tell Simon twice. He stepped into your apartment cautiously, letting you know that you were in complete control. You were in charge, and Simon was here to take the beatdown, no matter how painful it may be.

Upon entering, your apartment was in havoc. It wasn’t dirty, it wasn’t disgusting or revolting, but it was clear you spent most of your days cooped up in your room. Simon felt guilt eat away at him from the mere sight alone.

“Tell me how I can fix this,” Simon pleaded. Everything about his body language was desperate, distressed. His hands spoke for him, moving animatedly, unable to control himself. He was begging. For the first time in his life, he was begging.

“I’m not telling you how to fix anything, Simon. You’re the one supposed to fix it on your own. I’m not going to do it for you,” you explained in eerie calmness, but it was unmistakingly exhaustion. He couldn’t imagine how much he had put you through.

He knew you were right. This was Simon’s responsibility, and begging you for the cure would be easy on him and harder for you. He couldn’t allow that to happen. You’d already been burdened enough.

Simon stared at you, eyes glossed over, eyebrows pulled together from his stir of emotions. The way you stared back was empty, and it broke his heart that he was the reason for the light going out so soon after gaining it back.

He contemplated what to do. There were many ways this could go sideways, and he couldn’t risk that. He had to pick what was right in his heart, even if it meant shoving away the pride he’d grown accustomed to over the years of being alone and hollow.

Simon slowly got down on his knees, hands clasped in his lap, and he gazed up at you in woe. He was baring himself to you completely, stripping himself of all defenses, and succumbing to vulnerability. Never had Simon gotten on his knees for another person. His ego was too large, and he refused to let himself express weakness.

For you, he’d hang himself dry.

“What are you–”

“Please, sweetheart,” he whispered, voice soft yet broken, brimming with anguish. “I hurt you, and I hate myself for it. Nothin’ I say will make it better. I can’t change it, no matter how much I wish I could. I fucked up, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness for leavin’ you the way I did, for hurtin’ you like everybody else has done. I gave you an empty promise, and even then, I broke it.”

You were speechless from where you stood, peering down at this burly man on his knees for you. Your eyes never strayed away from his, and you recognized the familiar spark of despair in them. They looked just like yours every time you looked in the reflection. He was a mirror of you, just as you were a mirror of him.

“I was scared of losin’ you because of my job. I didn’t think a sweet thing like you deserved to be involved with a man like me. I didn’t want you hurt,” he explained, and the faintest crack in his voice showed you just how hard this was for him as well. You weren’t the only one suffering the consequences.

“Yet you hurt me anyway,” you whispered brokenly, and Simon deflated.

“I know,” he breathed, shaking his head. “I know, sweetheart. I let my fear control me, and it caused me to make things worse. It wasn’t fair t’you. I fucked up, and I’m so sorry.”

Your own resolve was faltering. You wanted so badly to be angry, to kick him out and be done with him. Strip him from your life and return to your days of wallowing in loneliness and misery.

You couldn’t. Every word was like a small bandaid over a too-big wound, but it was an attempt. He was trying. Nobody had ever tried with you before.

“Y’know,” you began, voice as soft as a whisper. “One of your boys came by to see me. Price.”

Simon blinked, surprise morphing on to his face. He swallowed anxiously, fists squeezing in his lap before he forced them to relax.

“And?”

You stared at him for a moment, shifting through your words in your mind.

“He tried to get me to cut you off. Tell you that I was better off, that I didn’t want you around anymore. He thought it would be best,” you finished quietly, shifting your eyes away from him in a moment of guilt. You weren’t sure why you were feeling it, but you’d recognize that uncomfortable lump in your throat anywhere. “I told him no.”

Simon’s eyebrows raised, eyes darting over your face to read your expression. “You did?”

“Yeah,” you confessed, shifting uncomfortably. “Told him… told him you didn’t deserve that.”

His heart ached painfully in his chest. What a lovely woman you were, defending him even after he had wronged you. How stupid he was for letting his own past misfortunes creep into the present.

He should be mad at Price for invading in on his personal business, but if he didn’t, Simon might not be here right now, kneeling before you and pleading for forgiveness. Price gave him an in, he gave him a chance, even if he went behind his back to do so.

Go and get your bird back, Simon.

It made sense now. Simon nearly laughed in bitter humor.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he murmured gently, finally gaining your gaze back. Your eyes had softened from their hardened walls you built back up again, and he prayed he had a chance. “I know it’s not goin’ to fix anythin’. You’re still angry with me, and you have every right t’be. But if you still decide to throw me out, to never speak t’me again, then I want you t’know that I love you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, chest pulling tight. A mixture of pain and relief coursed through your veins, and you weren’t sure which emotion to listen to. You weren’t sure what was right, but there was one thing you were sure of, and it was that you loved him, too. Heartbreakingly so.

“You do?” you whispered in uncertainty.

Simon rose from his kneeled position, taking a cautious step towards you. When you didn’t back away, he seized the opportunity to cradle your hands in his, holding them to his heart. “I do,” he repeated softly. “I’m not good at this, sweetheart. I’ve done a lot of terrible things. I’ve hurt people, I’ve killed people, yet loving somebody has always been the hardest thing to do. With you, it feels easy.”

You stared up at him, searching for any signs of dishonesty. What stared back at you was pure truth, his eyes flooding with a new light that promised love and confidence.

Taking a deep breath and a leap of faith, you responded, “I love you, too. Even though I should hate you.”

For the first time since seeing him, Simon smiled. It was a boyish smile, one you’d never seen before, and it lit your entire world up. The sun was back out, the flowers were blooming, birds were chirping, and nature was at peace. It tugged on your heartstrings and pulled away all of the hurt that had resided inside.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked. It brought you back to the first time the two of you shared a kiss, and the memory was fond. Despite all of the troubles and heartache, Simon was true to his word. Even if the world had failed the two of you, now was the time to change life’s course and rewrite your own future.

“Yes,” you sighed breathlessly.

Simon’s kiss was as familiar as before, but this time, it felt much more intimate. It was burning passion simmered down to tenderness, his hands cradling your face with the utmost care, treating you like frail china. He didn’t push or prod and instead moved with you rather than take control, letting you handle the reins this time.

It was a slow dance rather than a waltz, steady and unceasing.

“We’ll figure this out together, yeah?” he breathed against your lips, and you could feel the curl of his smile. You opened your eyes to peer into his own, unable to contain your own smile.

His lips returned to yours, and you melted into him. All that weight had been lifted so easily. All the rage had dissipated into nothing, being replaced with a warm, glowing light that filled your chest and threatened to burst.

This was all you wanted – to be content. To be happy.

You didn’t want to spend your days, awaiting an early death that would never come, nor did you want to waste it being burdened by the past that haunted you like a demonic spirit. This felt right.

When more and more feeling poured into the kiss, it shifted into something more starved, like two lovers who’d been separated for years. While you were falling into it, Simon was reluctant. Pulling away from you, you had a brief moment of uncertainty before he spoke.

“I don’t want to rush you like I did last time,” he explained gently. “The last thing I want is for you t’feel pressured. I’m not here for only that. M’here to fix this.”

“Simon,” you murmured, a warm smile on your face. “I know you aren’t. I want to do it. Is that okay?”

Simon stared at you for a moment, weighing out his options. While having sex was part of the reason the two of you ended up in this mess, it was the part after that really played a role. This time, things would be different.

“‘Course that’s okay, sweetheart,” he assured, returning your smile.

He was careful in guiding you to your room. While anxiety weighed heavy on his mind in messing things up further, he was determined to ensure that wouldn’t happen. The power was in his hands, and he’d use all of it in order to make you feel the love you deserve to feel.

Peeling off your clothes was a slow task. He took his time, reveling in the warmth of your skin, guiding his hands across every inch of flesh. He was worshiping you, showering you in praise and care. Sweet and reverent.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured affectionately, lips pressing to your cheek, then jaw, then down your neck. You were laid out for him on the bed, looking like a goddess bathed in light. “Don’t know what I did t’deserve you.”

“Simon,” you whispered, feeling tears spring in your eyes. Noticing, he lifted himself up, brushing the pad of his thumb softly over your cheek, swiping away the stray tear. He smiled down at you, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

He didn’t leave you waiting, but he certainly didn’t rush either. He worked diligently in stretching you open on his fingers, curling into that familiar spot that had your breath catching and your back arching beautifully. Your moans were spoken sonnets that blessed his ears, and he wanted nothing more than to hear them for the rest of his life.

Simon didn’t stop his notions, working you open until you were a squirming, crying mess, kissing away your tears while drowning in bashfulness at the sight of your pleasure. You deserved to feel good, and he’d die making sure of it.

When he lined himself up with you and slowly pressed his cock inside until he was at the hilt, buried in your moist warmth, he let out a blissful sigh, knocking his forehead against yours. He didn’t tear his eyes off of you, watching every flicker of euphoria that flashed in your eyes when he moved his hips. Unlike last time, his pace was slow yet firm, allowing you to bask in the delicious feeling of his cock pressing against the gummy walls of your cervix with every thrust.

“I love you,” he breathed through a sigh, brushing away a strand of hair that stuck in a sweaty mess to your forehead. “Most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. M’so lucky.”

You whimpered as he showered you in praise, wiggling from under him. The pleasure mixed with brimming love had you close to orgasm, clenching around him in a vice. He panted with you, breath fanning your face, only getting cut off when he’d lean down to kiss you.

It was a wonderful display of intimacy. This wasn’t just sex. He wasn’t ruining you, he wasn’t leaving you broken. He was leaving you overflowing with promises that he had every intention of keeping.

Simon swallowed up your moans with lips pressed to yours, fucking you through your orgasm, whispering sweet encouragements. He filled you, sealing those promises, his spend mixing with yours and bringing the two of you together as one.

Breathless and spent, Simon tangled you in his arms and legs, holding you close to his chest so he could feel your warmth against him. It brought him comfort and security, like a blanket being lovingly placed over him and consuming him in a snug embrace.

It was silent for a long time after, but neither of you minded it. You relished in the feeling of one another, and words weren’t needed.

“You’re not going to leave after I fall asleep, are you?” you whispered, breaking the silence with a brief moment of weakness. Simon shifted his head to look down at you, lifting a hand to cradle your head and card his fingers in your hair.

“No, sweetheart. I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he assured, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head. You nodded against him, snuggling closer to him, cheek pressed against his chest.

“You weren’t here to see me make it to two weeks,” you said softly. Though the reminder hurt to hear, you held no resentment in your tone, which gave him a sense of relief.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he apologized with a frown. When you peeked your head up to look at him, his eyes softened. It was like looking at the most beautiful thing crafted on this planet, and he had the absolute honor of calling it his.

“Maybe we can have a do-over,” you suggested, smiling cheekily at him. It enticed a laugh on his end, rumbling from his chest.

“How about instead of puttin’ a deadline on it this time, we keep count of the days that you wake up and accomplish seeing all the tomorrows. Deal?”

Your smile widened, and you pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. “It’s a deal.”

IT'S OFFICIALLY OVER!!!! I am so sad because I had such an amazing time writing this fic and it will truly always be one of my favorites. so many of you enjoyed it and supported me through it, and I cannot thank you enough for all the love you've given me :,) I sincerely hope this ending is what everybody wanted and more. I love you all <3

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 21

(Cater can often be found in the lake next to the Heartslabyul dorm, either lounging on Trey or just casually swimming on his own. Because Cater is a lake Nymph, he is mostly translucent and invisible among the lake water, meaning he can very easily scare his fellow dorm members. The first time he did it to Riddle he was stuck in a collar for a full two weeks and resolved to never pull the Unicorn into the water again. Trey had to save Riddle- since Riddle can't swim well- and even scolded Cater in earnest for his action.)

Warnings; yandere, yandere behavior, possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, Savana king, mention of fear/trauma related to wolves/werewolves, spying, Platonic yandere goes protective, pride mentality, communal grooming, group obsessive behavior, Grim is only a good boy for his Hooman otherwise he is a menace, Nemean Lion, Werewolf, Faun, Satyr, Hellcat, Dragon, Selkie, Gnoll,

~~~~~~~~

Classes had somewhat felt like a blessing of normalcy for you and thankfully the professors were all in pleasant moods. Vargas even offered to 'set Leona straight' if the Nemean Lion ever got too rowdy or bossy. Trein made it clear that he expected you to come see him if ever anyone of Savanaclaw tried anything that made you uncomfortable. It seemed they all were ready to come to your aid if you needed them.

You didn't have many classes with Jack typically, but he seemed to suddenly be present in all of your classes. It was likely because of Savanaclaw being selected as your guards and Jack was the only first year who was an 'official' guard. There were times that you got used to seeing the Wolf-man in a passing glance, and there were times you caught sight from the corner of your eye and nearly jumped from being startled. Despite your efforts, it was proving difficult to fully relax around the Wolf.

Thankfully, most of your classes were with Ace and Deuce as well, the two Goats almost posturing around the Wolf. It was a funny sight alone and even more amusing scenario to think these Goats- who were shorter than Jack- were attempting to intimidate the Wolf. Even with the two pushing at Jack, he kept a mostly even temper and didn't even snarl at the two smaller freshmen.

Come lunchtime, however, the three were actually joking and relaxing around one another. Seeing them laugh and talk was such a stark contrast to how they had been not even hours before. It was odd enough that it made you think back to what the Ghosts had told you that morning. You knew the aura supposedly had an impact on the monster species, but what that impact specifically was eluded you.

Perhaps you would have to start keeping track of these odd instances. The notes app on your phone was a hidden enough place and you deftly entered the oddity before trying to return to the conversation at hand.

"So, (Y/n), what's the big deal letting little Grim chose Savanaclaw of all dorms? I was sure you were gonna choose Heartslabyul!"

"Well," you gently pet the little Hellcat's forehead and he purred in delight at your attention, happily munching away at some left over donuts from the day prior, "you heard his reasoning. Leona did save me that day- he saved the both of us- and I am deeply grateful for it."

"You haven't told us about that day yet, so I guess it's hard to visualize."

Ace glanced at Deuce who gave a side look at Jack. The Wolf noticed the look but was too concerned with what you were saying. You hadn't yet spoken to anyone outside of the staff and those who were with you that day about the event. Grim didn't like talking about it and even mewled while holding his ears if the subject was ever broached beyond simply mentioning it.

You idly noticed that those who sat at the other tables around your group had hushed considerably. It made you wonder how many ears had perked up to listen the moment you sat down. Even those you had not spoken too prior and only seen in passing had shown interest in you, some students passing by you several times before settling down.

You recognized some were Savanaclaw members, others were from Diasomnia. Even a few members from Heartslabyul were huddled around the tables nearest to you. It was hard not to be acutely aware of the presence of students around you. Unfortunately, you recognized that your entire week would be similar for the fact you had to stay in Savanaclaw with Leona due to the upcoming event.

"That day-"

"No!"

Grim let out a whimpering mew, holding his ears down and closing his eyes. You were quick to scoop up the little kit and cuddle him, his body shaking in stress even as you gently wrapped him in your school uniform jacket. He stopped shaking but still seemed stressed as you sighed and tried to think of a way to change the subject.

"I won't talk about it here, far too many ears listening in. Regardless, I'm told the one who orchestrated the whole thing has already been sentenced."

"Oh yeah," Deuce quickly changed topic, tilting his head curiously as his goat ears angled back slightly, "Housewarden Riddle said it was a Huoshu scientist from the Queendom of Roses. The law protecting Humans may be old, but it is clearly still enforced and it is strict. It leaves very little room for uncertainty on punishment and many consider it harsh."

"I'm going to guess it has something to do with decapitation?"

"H-how did you guess?"

"... Riddle's favorite line is 'Off With Your Head' and he had to get it from somewhere. Why not from the Queen he so often represents?"

"I guess that makes sense..."

You hummed and went back to petting Grim as Ace grabbed a head of lettuce, pulling the green leafy plant apart and digging in. As he bit through several layers and Deuce grabbed some of the leaves that fell to the table, you were again reminded of how different these monster men were from you. Not only did they have different manners, but they had such different diets. It made you wonder how you understood them at all or if it was some cosmic joke that they spoke the same language and dialect as you.

During your musings a dark shadow fell over you and your two Goat companions froze, looking over you at whoever stood behind you. Jack growled reflexively on instinct before the sound died in his throat, his reaction telling you the likely identity of the interloper. With a quick glance you saw it was Leona who was grinning down at you in an almost good humored way.

"Stand down, Jack. That's a good boy, but no treat for you."

"Leona," you scolded the arrogant Lion, "don't belittle him like he's some pet. Not okay."

"Sheesh, Mousey, what are you, one of Royal Sword Academy's goons?"

A chorus of hissing and growling came from those sitting around you as it confirmed the other students were listening in. Their response let you know this Royal Sword Academy was not favored in Night Raven College.

"Who?"

"The place Che'nya goes. They're down at the beach line of Sage Island. They're our rival school."

Deuce spoke up, offering a quick answer to your question. You tried to think back on that time after the disastrous Unbirthday Party but most of those memories were blurred and almost foggy.

"Hm... I remember a pink Cat guy with a split tail, but I don't remember much about him beyond how warm he was. Pretty sure I was potioned out on whatever Professor Divus gave to me."

"He's the guy that shielded you from Riddle's magic blast after Trey hit him. He's-"

Leona quickly interjected, basically picking you up out of your seat as you gasped in surprise and turned to hold the Lion. Clearly he was not in the mood for a lesson and his patience had been exceeded.

"That's enough chatting about those goody two-shoes, point is, Night Raven isn't like that and you are here with us, not them. So, act like a Night Raven student."

"Leona, put me down-"

"Nope. You've been studying and being a good little student all day. Were going to the greenhouse to take a nap."

"I have classes-!"

"And I have a nap to get back to. I came all this way just to get you, and I'm not leaving without my favorite little squeaky toy. Got it, Mousey?"

"Leona-"

You squeaked as he turned and began walking, holding you in his arms and not even glancing back at the three freshmen as you called out to them.

"Tell professor Divus I can't come to class because I'm being pupnapped!"

Leona didn't bother with your words as he carried you and Grim out of the cafeteria. True to his word, he seemed to be taking you to the Greenhouse and you vaguely wondered how you were going to deal with the Lion. On top of it all, you wondered how Malleus or the other Housewardens would react to the Lion's brazen behavior.

~•§•~

Deep thunder rolled overhead outside the Diasomnia dorm, cracking with green lightning. The dour prince of Briar Valley watched through his magestone as the Nemean Lion carried the Human away to the Greenhouse. If it were up to him, he would teleport straight there and take his precious treasure away from the problematic Lion. But it wasn't up to him.

He agreed to allow this Lion to guard his most treasured Hoard member, but even then he was not happy with the arrangement. It told the Dragon that he needed to work even harder to befriend the Hellcat kit as it was clear his Human valued the small fur-ball's input. Still, he kept his ears perked for when his treasure called for his aid and he would stay back until that moment... Or until that Lion tried anything more than cuddling.

Malleus was still infuriated to know that his most prized treasure was in the claws of that loose and lazy Lion. Even Lilia had not bothered to berate the Dragon for skipping his classes, well aware that the temperamental Fae was going to spend most of the week watching his prized treasure. From the magestone he inherited, the Dragon watched and waited in constant alert for any sign of extreme discomfort.

~•§•~

You sighed again as the Lion lay his head on your stomach, Little Grim having hesitantly allowed the golden beast to snuggle him. So long as little Grim was content enough with Leona, you wouldn't argue against the Lion's actions. At least the quiet gave you time to think about what steps you were going to take next.

It had become a waiting game for you, to wait until the Human ghosts found you a way home. Until then, you had to keep playing the interests of the monster men to your advantage and make sure you could keep Grim close. If a way out was presented, you would take it and make sure to take your little kit with you.

While you were lost in thought, a specific sound met your ears; sniffing.

The sound reminded you far too much of the Wolves and you felt yourself becoming more stressed as it drew closer. Your sudden stiffness and increased heart-rate did not go unnoticed as Leona's ears began to angle around before pointing the general direction of the sniffing. It was odd as you had believed Leona was sleeping, but you felt thankful that at least it was a Housewarden with you.

As the sound came closer, you heard an accompanying flop sound every so often, like something heavy being dragged. Leona actually sat up, setting Grim- who he had been cuddling- on your stomach and moving so the two of you were behind him and somewhat beneath the overhanging bushes. The Lion stared intensely as a grey muzzle of what could only be described as a squished and oddly noseless Wolf snout parted the reeds on the other side of the path sniffing and snorting loudly. What you thought was a muzzle without a nose quickly became clear when the nostrils of the beast flared above the drawn back lips of a snarling creature. Before you could scream, the plants were thrown to the side and a familiar coated giant seal could be seen, glaring with bright silvery-blue eyes at the Lion.

What surprised you was how immediately terrified Leona had become. This was a man you saw go toe to toe with a pack of Wolves and still manage to triumphantly sneer at them. His fear put you on extreme edge despite the semi-familiar look of the seal.

"... Leona?"

You whimpered out, holding a frightened and silently shaking Grim close to your chest.

Leona was unable to respond as a more than familiar voice growled out.

"You dare take my Pup before she could attend my class? Insolent little Lion!"

The fear worming inside of you melted into complete surprise as you realized just what the identity of the creature before you was. In some respects, you should have known from your own knowledge of the Selkies of your world that Divus would have a seal form. You just didn't expect to see it or the fact that he was enormous compared to most seals.

"GO BACK TO CLASS!"

~•§•~

The rather arduous day had finally come to an end as you stood now in the Savanaclaw dorm kitchen and let the day wind down to the night. The dorm was beautiful and clearly meant to mimic a more savana type setting, which Leona and Ruggie fit into far too easily. Jack stood out among the many sandy-brown and earthen colored pelts, his white snowy fur almost gleaming even in the lower light of the evening.

Divus gave Leona more than just a talking to and actually managed to chase the Lion up a tree. It was almost comical to watch how stressed Leona was in response to the Selkie and you vaguely wondered why a supposedly impervious Lion would be so terrified of a seal out of water. Granted, Divus was far larger in his seal form than he was in his Humanoid form, but it certainly gave more credit to how frightening he actually was.

Now the evening was setting in and you were faced with what they called their kitchen. You honestly hadn't expected much, seeing as none of the monster men needed to cook their food, but this was less than that. It was mostly just a pantry and fridges packed with primarily meat.

There was a place for a fire and the several racks of ribs sitting in one of the large fridges began to form an idea for what you would make. Its was going to be a meat heavy diet until you could take stock of whatever things you grabbed from Ramshackle, but Leona did tell you to use whatever you wanted in their kitchen.

There were more spices than you had expected and you began the long process of cooking up quite a bit of food, figuring you would likely have to feed at least yourself and your guards. Part of you wondered about the other dorm members and you begrudgingly decided to cook more than you planned even for your carnivore guards to eat. It was only to keep the peace as you were certain problems were going to arise from your presence alone.

Speaking of problems, it had been suspiciously quiet all evening. Leona swore to you he was going to keep an eye on Grim while you cooked and even insisted on it. The only thing that convinced you was that Grim wanted to look around the dorm. Still, for a dorm full of students it was suspiciously quiet.

~•§•~

An alluringly warm smell filled the dorm and seemed to turn every nose kitchen bound. It was rare for every member of Savanaclaw to be out all at once for so long, but the smells from the kitchen were near divine and drew in the entire group. Despite the many curious looks, none dare cross the clear threshold established by the leader of their Pride.

The sun bronzed ruler of the dorm lay in a lounging position on a stack of rocks still cooling from the afternoon sun, lazily grooming the little cat beast that sat impatiently in his arms. The ever loyal Gnoll lay directly by the mouth of the kitchen, effectively acting as a door to the delicious scents. Even the new pup Jack- who still had yet to prove himself despite his abilities in magic- somehow sat next to the two defacto leaders of the dorm.

Savanaclaw had no Vice-Housewarden as it needed no Vice-Housewarden, but it was still understood that Ruggie was the next to turn to if Leona was shirking his duties. Then there was Jack. The sophomores couldn't believe Jack of all students was selected. Most of the dorm couldn't believe they were selected at all to play host.

They figured after the way they had been accused and treated when this seemingly mythical Human got shomehow hurt, they would not have to play host. Now, as those sublime scents teased at the imagination and stomachs growled for food, it was hard to imagine such a gift going to another dorm.

Naturally, those playing in the Spelldrive Tournament were expecting the chance to get a taste of the divine smell, but the others were going to be left longing for scraps. Despite how some whined, hissed, and even growled, none had the courage to challenge the King of their pride.

Beyond just the smell of the food, the smell of the Human on Jack had drawn in many curious noses. The moment he returned was the moment several students began sniffing at his white fur. Jack was unaccustomed to such behavior from his dormmates as most just did the typical testing the new members and even fought from time to time all in good fun. This was different.

Still, so long as he was a guard he could handle the more than intrusive behavior. It was worth it to Jack. That being said, everyone was more than a little surprised at the almost sagely patience shown by the great Lion.

"But when?"

"Whenever she's done."

"When will that be?"

"Whenever it is."

"But I want it to be now."

"She's busy right now."

Grim was whining and asking questions he had already asked five times while Leona smoothed the kit's fur. Admittedly, Grim was being incredibly tolerant of the grooming behavior and it was just enough to keep Leona calm even with the questions. The other members of the dorm were stunned Leona was even tolerating the small cat-beast's presence especially with how irritating he was being.

"But why?"

"You said you wanted to look around the dorm."

"But I thought I was gonna go right back to Mama after."

"You should have clarified."

"But I want to go back to Mama."

"She's busy right now."

"How much longer?"

"As long as it needs to be."

"I don't want a bath!"

"Sucks for you. Only clean cubs get food."

"... How much longer?"

~•§•~

You sat looking out over what seemed to be an endless savana that stretched out beyond what you could see. In your lap sat a full bellied Grim who purred and lay in your affectionate arms. From what you could tell when the food finally finished and the near ravenous stares of the many students looking at the food in extreme longing, you were in for a long week.

Leona only allowed a select few to eat their fill, obviously including Ruggie and Jack, but four others you hadn't met were allowed as well. Naturally you and Grim were able to take whatever you wished and Leona made it clear to even Ruggie that you two got your food first. It threw you off a bit when- as soon as that first group had their fill- the rest was set out and descended upon by the remaining members of the dorm.

The way they ate was as if they all had been starving, yet none of them looked even close to how Ruggie had appeared when you first arrived at the school. You figured they just liked the way that the food had smelled while cooking and wanted to eat their fill. Despite the almost aggressive behavior they showed one another, none were willing to take even a sniff in your direction. Any that glanced at you were quickly sent scurrying off by Leona who glared poisonously from next to you.

Now you were winding down and sitting in Leona's room, his large bed sporting an assortment of pillows as it almost reminded you of the way a cat-bed from your world was built. You figured you would be in Leona's room, Ruggie and Jack moving blankets in as well despite Leona's grumbling about not inviting them. Your hand idly fidgeted with the magestone that hung from your neck as you found yourself surprisingly missing the overbearing Dragon and the usual faces of the Hoard.

"Oi, Mousey, get to bed. We've gotta get up early tomorrow to train for the Spelldrive, so you're getting up too. Got it?"

You looked back at Leona who was laying on his bed, tail flicking impatiently to get you to join him. It was a little odd that he expected you to join him but refused to let Jack and Ruggie. Maybe it had something to do with Nemean Lions and how they socially behaved. With a soft sigh, you carried Grim to the bed, keeping a fair distance from the Lion despite his scowl.

"You gonna cling to the edge of the bed like a frightened mouse, shivering in the cold, or are you going to come over here already?"

"Wha-?"

You gasped as Leona pulled you down to lay next to him, wrapping one muscled arm over your side and pulling the blankets up over you and Grim. He was fairly warm and the temperature in the dorm had dropped drastically with the sun, so you could tolerate his almost aggressive cuddling. In the distance, you could have sworn you heard the sound of rolling thunder.

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Halloween prompts year 2 day 2

Tim, as a child, went to a party/gala with his parents and ended up getting dragged into an Oiji board session when he was shoved off to go join the other kids.

It somehow escalated to a "bride of Satan" ritual but instead of Satan they chose the "king of ghosts" just to see if anything replied. Tim didn't believe in ghosts at this point and was goaded into being the bride. They thought the ritual failed after the flames of the candles turned green then purple then green again before blowing out entirely.

After Jason dies Tim makes a wish/prayer to anyone who could hear him. He desperately wanted his hero, his Robin, to live.

Phantom died at four and became the king of the Infinite Realms at 7. He was often lonely and hid his halfa status from everyone outside of the Far Frozen where he was raised. Both he and the Yetis guarded this secret zealously. Still, he craved contact from other humans and knowledge of thier world that was so different from his own. So naturally when he felt someone willingly sacrificing themselves to be his spouse? He only hesitated a moment before agreeing. Then he just needed his fiance to wish for something and thier engagement would be set.

Cue Jason Todd waking up in his casket.

Nothing really comes of it until Tim gets his first major injury from a bad guy as the new Robin and Tim wakes up to a giant nightmare fuel skeleton monster just chilling on his ceiling watching him. It had mandibles like a beatle made from fingerbones woven into one another and its face seamed the same save for the artistic inclusion of opals, pearls and other small bones that Tim couldn't identify. Its body looked like a mass of bones both human and animal while its many, many arms kept it stuck to the ceiling where dark empty eye sockets stared down at him. Two human skulls protruded from the creatures back, one watching the window and the other watching the doorway.

Tim screamed.

Danny just hoped his fiance liked his new bodyguard. He made it himself special order, he called it a BoneKeeper.

----

Much later

Batman, Zatanna, and Robin: *tries to summon ghost king*

Phantom: omg my fiance wants to meet me!

Phantom: I cant go like this! I want to meet him while looking my best!

Phantom: *sends note through in his stead stating to call back at a specific date and time*

Heroes: wtf? Is this a trap?

Day comes

Heroes: *summoning*

Phantom: *appears looking nice and very much a child* Are you my fiance?

Batman: ...oh god thats a child

Zatanna: ...oh god thats a child

Robin: *same age as Danny and unbothered* Whats with the bone monster?

Phantom: I made it to protect you! I heard that you guys used fear as a weapon. Is it scary enough?

[3mbot]

Mr. Gap Wants YOU

Desc: You hide behind Mr. Gap to get away from Mr. Scarletella. You didn’t think that would be for free, did you? ;) Gender neutral reader

Warnings!!: 18+ just to be safe, making out, solo Mr. Gap masturbation at the end hehe. You can skip that part it’s after the “＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚”

A/n: I haven’t written for a long time so forgive me if it’s not the best.  Any constructive criticism is welcome. I was inspired to write again after playing this game and seeing how lively the fandom is. I hope to write more for Homicipher and other things in the future! 

╔═══════════════*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*══════════════════╗

Walking through endless corridors of the ghost apartments is beginning to take its toll. After being separated again from Mr. Crawling, your only source of comfort, you become focused on one thing. Your only goal is to find the exit. 

You trudge along for what seems like ages until a faint glow of red can be seen around the corner. Your heart drops. This can only be from one source- Mr. Scarletella. His form glitches in and out of existence, which startles you out of being frozen in terror, and you begin to run in the other direction. 

To your horror, the corridor you ran to is a long stretch of hallway with no place to escape- until you see an opening in the bottom of the wall. With Mr. Scarletella hot on your heels, you run over there and are not surprised to see Mr. Gap appear. 

He tries to ask you for something but you can hear Mr. Scarletella’s static noises drawing ever near. In your panic, you push him to the side to jump into the dark hole to hide from the scarlet man. 

Mr. Gap isn’t happy about this but makes no move to push you back out and allows you to hide behind him in the darkness. 

Just as Mr. Scarletella makes it into the long hallway, you’re clinging to the side of Mr. Gap, shaking in fright. Your warmth envelops his cold body and Mr. Gap decides this isn’t so bad after all. He can always get your heart later. 

Several anxious seconds pass while Mr. Scarletella makes his way down the hallway. (Please don’t find me!!) you think to yourself. Each step causes you to hold your breath. 

Finally, he stops right outside the opening. He lingers there for a moment and you fear you’ve been found out. Suddenly, his head dips down to an inhuman position peering into the darkness. 

Almost as if he knew, Mr. Gap quickly covered your mouth to stop the surprised yelp from escaping you. You can feel his long, cold fingers, and they weirdly enough calm you down and prevent any noise from escaping. 

After a moment of searching, Mr. Scarletella sees nothing in the darkness and glitches away. 

You both stay stuck to each other for a bit, with you still holding your breath thinking he might come back and snatch you. What pulls you out of this state is Mr. Gap gently running his fingers along your side to comfort you. 

You look up at him and he is already looking down at you. You both blush and step away from each other. 

“He gone.” Mr Gap says. 

“Ha, yes… I think you’re right.” 

Mr Gap stares at you in confusion. You’re speaking in your language again without realizing it. 

“Thank you.” You say to him with a bow. 

He just stares at you. 

…

“I leave now.” You say to him. You turn to crawl back out, but Mr Gap grabs your wrist. You look back, confused. 

“No. You help me now.” He says, smiling. 

You roll your eyes at him. Of course, he wants something in return. 

“What do you want?” You ask him, annoyed. 

“You.” 

…

You blink up at him in surprise. (Did I hear that right?) Looking at his expression, his twisted smile looks more like a smirk than usual. Your heart skips a beat. 

“Me?” You question, pointing at yourself. 

His hand was still firmly on your wrist. His smile grows and he pulls you in close to him. 

“Yes, you” he confirms.

You gulp and stare back up at him. 

He places his cold, rough fingers on your face by holding your chin and studying your reaction. He seems pleased and brings you close to his face, giving you plenty of time to push him away. You don’t. 

His lips touch yours gently, far more gently than you would think suits him. Delighted by your submission, he goes back in for more. 

You both slowly warm up to the kiss and it gets heated. It gets sloppy. You’re almost surprised at how bad he is at kissing, but you don’t mind it. He is a quick learner and each one is better than the last. 

You don’t know how long it’s been, but when you finally part to gasp for air, his eyes are blown out, wet mouth glistening in the dim light, and looking the most delighted you’d ever seen him. His longing gaze catches you off guard. 

He comes back for more and you oblige, showing him the ropes. Your tongues dance together in harmony but he easily dominates yours at the same time. He loves the noises you make and he experimentally gropes around your body, surprised by how soft it is. 

You tap his arm to signal that you need air and he grunts but allows you to part. Your dazed expression sends a signal to his nether region that causes it to stir. 

You catch your breath and blush at his eyes piercing into your soul. Solely focused on you. You clear your throat and say “Thank you. Good enough? I go now?”

He makes a face and grumbles. “Yes. Leave.” Before you can respond, he drops you off in another room to rest. You turn back to say your thanks, but he’s already gone. 

You have a feeling that won’t be your last encounter. 

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

Extra. 

Mr Gap returns to the darkness after leaving you and touches his fingers to his lips, still feeling the phantom touch of your lips. 

By this point, he is frustratingly bothered by you, evident by the bulge in his pants. He grunts in annoyance and fishes his dick out of his pants. 

He does this often by himself but something was different this time. He was far more sensitive as he gently stroked himself and growled, member twitching wildly at the thought of you. 

He was already so close without any friction at all. With each rough stroke, he pictured your flushed face, heavy panting breaths, your supple body…everything about you drove him mad. 

He had to slow down so he didn’t come too quick. Instead, he focused on teasing his tip with his cold fingers. He wondered how yours would feel. You were so warm. 

He cursed at himself for not feeling your hands more. Were they nice and soft like the rest of you, or calloused and hard like his? Either way, it excited him to fantasize about. 

He wondered if you would tease his tip until he became a whiny mess, if you would take the time to fondle his balls, stroke his thigh…splurt. 

Damn it. He came too quick. 

╚═════════════════*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*════════════════╝

A/n: Again, I apologize if it’s not the best thing you’ve ever read. I haven’t written for a long while. Any comments are appreciated!! Please be nice. :,) If you liked it, feel free to request something else! I’ll publish a pinned post soon to tell you about me and what things I'll write for!

[thevoidstaredback]

I have been madly inspired by this post, but I don't have time to write it. Instead, you get a prompt!

Tim and Danny are twins, just as in the inspo prompt. Except, instead of being from the DC Universe, they're both from the Danny Phantom Universe.

The timelines both continue as normal up until just after Dick becomes Robin (DC) and the Portal Accident (DP).

Instead of Sam and Tucker (or maybe you want them there? Idk. In my head, they aren't here) who're with Danny when the portal opens, it's Tim. They'd decided to try and help their parents as best they could (because this is a family of geniuses, guys!). Tim was working outside in the lab while Danny went in to see if anything's wrong in there, the accident happens as canon.

Now that the portal's open, Danny goes out as Phantom while Tim works as his support. (Neither tell Jazz or anyone because they're both allergic to help) Some way or another, Tim gets lost in the Ghost Zone and ends up in the DC Universe, wandering the streets of Gotham.

Jack and Janet Drake had decided to follow Brucie Wayne's lead and adopt a not well-to-do kid. They stumble upon Tim and basically kidnap him. He goes along with it because he doesn't know how long he'll be stuck here and he needs to blend in.

We all know the jokes of Tim being forever 17? Well, being exposed to the portal and the GZ as intensely as he was slows down his aging (unlike Danny whose aging completely stops) Tim doesn't leave Drake Manor much, nor is anyone much around to notice anything, so it's not like it matters. He doesn't actually notice at first!

Then, Tim sees Batman and Robin. At first, it was just glimpses of them, but then he got obsessed. He bought a camera using the Drakes money and set about his quest. He follows the vigilantes, learns from them from a distance, because this is what his brother does! This is what he was helping his brother do!

Eventually, Robin quits, leaving Batman and Batgirl. Dick Grayson leaves Gotham just after that. Then, Bruce Wayne adopts Jason Todd and Robin is back on the scene. Tim pieces it together pretty quick after that

Meanwhile, Danny's a mess. His twin brother is missing somewhere in the Realms, probably scared out of his mind and he can't find anyone who'll help him look! On top of that, Vlad's getting on his nerves more than usual, pushing further and further past the line he'd drawn in the sand.

Then, the Nasty Burger explodes. No one dies, thank God, but Jazz, Sam, Tucker, and his parents are all in the hospital.

Scared out of his damn mind that he'll become Dan, he retreats to the Realms. He flies and flies, grief skewing both his sense of direction and his will to care, and he ends up somewhere dark. It feels different from the rest of the Realms he's explored. Everywhere else, he could feel Clockwork and the Observants Watching, but not here.

Danny, needing to rest and calm himself down, lands in Gotham. Right in the middle of a Scarecrow attack. He's doused with Fear Gas.

Batman and Nightwing have been fighting again, and the new guy, Red Hood, isn't helping matters. Robin, in an effort to just get away for a bit, goes off on his own during patrol. That's when Scarecrow attacks.

Danny, more human than ghost at the moment, sees flames engulfing the building next to him, his friends and family all in there. And right in the middle of everything is his twin brother. He tries to get to them, to Tim, but someone's holding him back.

Tim sees his brother. He'd run to where Scarecrow just left, letting Batman and Nightwing handle Rogue, to check on any civilians that might've gotten caught, and he only sees one. At first he thought that he'd inhaled some of the Fear Gas, but he can think clearly and there aren't any other symptoms.

"Danny?" Tim asks, voice quiet, not daring to hope this is real. He'd almost given hope about ever getting home. He doesn't get an answer, but he can see the symptoms of Fear Gas settling over Danny, so he restrains him before he can hurt himself.

Danny passes out as soon as Tim gets him the antidote, and now Tim is left to explain why he's brought a civilian back to Drake Manor and why the civilian looks like him

[luxaofhesperides]

for the Ghost Lights prompt thingy(if you’re still doing it)…

Fish?

Danny doesn't mean to witness a fight, but it's taken up the entire road and he's been stuck hiding in an alley for the past ten minutes, watching the Signal take out gang members.

More keep coming to fight, and Danny can tell that the Signal is flagging, his energy waning as he's forced to defend himself against the countless gangsters rushing him. Part of him wants to jump in and help, but being kidnapped and nearly trafficked after the wrong person caught sight of him using his powers has Danny hesitating, fearful of being caught again.

The Signal's a hero, he tells himself, If anyone can handle this, it's him.

And, to be fair, the Signal is handling it pretty well. He takes people down quickly with hard hits and pressure point strikes, his shadow rearing up behind him to crash down on people. But it's still one versus too many, and Danny watches, barely breathing, as the Signal is pushed back to the edge of the road. There's only a small iron rail separating him from the ocean and Danny tenses, ready to spring into action despite his apprehension if things go sideways.

Sure enough, a few lucky hits disorient the Signal, leave him off balance, and all it takes is one strong push to have him toppling over the railing and into the dark waters below.

The gangsters wait to see if the vigilante will resurface. No sign of his signature yellow appears from beneath the waves. They cheer and walk off, congratulating each other, groaning about bruises and broken bones. Danny doesn't bother paying any attention to them as he goes invisible and sprints for the railing, jumping over it to dive in.

Using his powers in Gotham is always dangerous, and going full ghost even more so. He hasn't transformed since he first arrived, too focused on keeping his head down and getting out of the city alive once he graduates from university.

But saving a hero is a good reason to throw away all his caution and common sense. Danny pulls on his power, goes ghost just as the waves swallow him whole, and he flies down through the water in search of the Signal.

The water is dark and brackish, polluted and full of filth. He's sure if he looks closer to the bottom, he'd only find bodies from people who's names only appear in cold cases. He's all too aware of the time ticking away as he searching, desperate to catch a glimpse of the yellow armor the Signal is so known for. He almost misses it when he does spot it, just a small flash closer to the edge of the city than he expected. Danny aims for it, cutting through the waters with ease.

The Signal is struggling weakly as he tries to swim up to the surface. His armor is weighing him down and Danny can see small wisps of blood rising into the water around him.

Danny doesn't hesitate. He can't afford to, not with the Signal's life on the line.

He grabs the Signal's arms and flies them up. He stops when their heads are above the water to give the Signal a moment to breathe, then he warps his arms around the Signal's waist and flies them out of the water.

"Do you have someplace safe to go to?" Danny asks, taking them to the top of an apartment building a few streets over.

The Signal collapses once Danny lets go of him, coughing up water. Danny hovers nearby, offering what little comfort he could by rubbing small circles onto the vigilante's back.

"Is there someone I can call? Someone who can help you?"

The Signal shakes his head. He curls into himself, taking deep breaths. A hand goes to his wrist and grips it for a moment, then he slumps over, rolling onto his back. He definitely shouldn't be alone right now, so Danny sits next him, staying in ghost form just in case he has to fly them away, and wonders if he should try shouting for Batman. That would get his attention right? A glowing ghost boy yelling for him above the streets of Gotham?

Of course, he's rather not do that, but this isn't about him. This is about getting the Signal the help he needs to recover from almost drowning.

Batman would be lenient on him once he hears that Danny fished the Signal out of the ocean, right?

"Thanks," the Signal rasps, turning his head to face Danny. Water still trails down his face, no doubt trapped under his helmet.

"No problem," Danny replies. "You should probably take that off, you know. I'll look away, so don't worry."

He turns and closes his eyes for good measure, and is glad to hear Signal mutter a weak thanks. It's followed by a deep sigh and the sound of something being dropped onto the roof of the apartment. They stay in silence for many long minutes and Danny keeps his eyes closed, the back of his neck itching. The Signal must be looking at him, and the thought makes Danny want to hide away.

So much for hiding his powers.

"Seriously, thank you," the Signal says again. His voice is much steadier now, stronger.

"It's really no problem. I wasn't about to just leave you to drown when I could do something about it."

Behind him, Danny hears the Signal moving and tenses, worried about what happens next.

"You can look now."

Slowly, Danny turns and opens his eyes. The Signal is sitting up now, helmet back on, looking much better. "I'll need to finish dealing with that gang later, but for right now, I'm going to get someplace safe to crash. Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"I mean, you were in the water too. You should probably take a shower as soon as possible," the Signal adds. "Who knows what's in the water we swam in?"

Danny grimaces, imagining all the pollution and bodies that contaminate the bay. "Good point. You'll be alright on your own?"

"Yeah, man, don't worry about me. I'll be right as rain in no time."

He takes a step back, glancing around to make sure no other Bats are going to pop out of nowhere to get him. "Cool. I'll just go now so you can do... whatever it is you need to do now. Bye!"

Danny flies away before the Signal can say anything else, going invisible to avoid any curious eyes looking up from the streets. He circles around the block just to make sure none of the gang members are still lingering outside, then heads to his and Jazz's apartment as soon as he determines that the coast is clear. He goes straight to his bedroom, goes back to being a normal human, and collapses face first into his bed. The stress of the day hits him all at once and Danny can only hope that the Signal forgets about him and they can go on without their paths ever crossing again. The last thing he needs is attention from a vigilante; getting mixed up in the hero business will only endanger Jazz, and Danny will do anything to make sure she has a peaceful, normal college experience in Gotham.

Yeah, surely there are better things that will keep the Signal preoccupied. Danny will be fine.

(A week later, Danny curses his past self for jinxing him when he turns down an alley to take a shortcut from the library home and finds the Signal leaning against a wall.

"Hey," the vigilante greets, "Mind if we chat for a sec? I still need to thank you for saving me."

He'd really rather not, but the Signal would probably just come back if Danny ran away. He sighs and agrees, following after the Signal as he leads them somewhere quieter.

He's expecting a light interrogation on his powers, what he's doing in Gotham, his reasons for saving the Signal. What he gets instead is a few worried questions about his safety and the promise of a lunch date.

...Maybe he can hold off cursing his past self. When else is he going to get a date with a hero?)

[on-the-clear-blue]

Champion and King Pt1

(Since yall seemed to want this...)

Danny didn't know why he was doing this, didn't know why he agreed to try this for Clockwork...

He cursed the day he defeated Pariah Dark, that great petty bastard cursed him with something much worse than a missing limb or death.

Motherfucking paperwork

And centuries of it, sure there was some meager efforts done by the Ancients over the years but at some point they just stopped.

And now he was stuck behind a desk reading mind-numbing legal jargon trying to figure out what exactly the Observants wanted him to do, the most he was able to comprehend was they wanted support for an increase of dead from leprosy...from 800 BC.

He slapped it with his decline seal and moved onto the next, another plea for more funding by Walker, accepted and pushed to another bin.

Read, Stamp, put in Bin.

That was his life now.

He had become the lamest office worker whenever he wasn't at school or sleeping, he hadn't seen Sam or Tucker in what felt like years...

His eyes skipped over lines of text, sighing as he let the paper drop, his ink stained fingers rubbed at his eyes, yawning as he did.

Stretching back in his chair, Danny stared up at the ceiling of his office, feeling some calm come over his tired mind, his ceiling was covered with stars on pitch black, his eyes could pick out constellations known and unknown, one (and maybe only benefit) of being the Ghost King was that he had full access to all of the ghosts in the Realms, others who looked up to the stars and felt hope.

Watching the stars twinkle for another minute, Danny groaned before looking back to the piles and piles of paperwork, only pausing as there was a bright pink postit note stuck on the paper that he had recently tried to read.

It was both a welcome distraction and a troublesome thing, picking it up, Danny's eyes narrowed as he read.

'Dear King Daniel, I hope this note finds you well, a pressing matter has come to fruition that need your attention. Come to my tower, I wish to speak to you.'

Grumbling, the teen stood, wincing at the creak of his bones as he stretched, he is barely over 14! Why does he have a worse back then his father!

---

Floating through the purple door of the clock tower, Danny looked around for his supposed mentor.

Letting out a grunt as he was tackled from behind, the teen glared at the pint sized Clockwork grinning evilly up at him, "Sup Unc, took you long enough, were you in Ohio? That's totally not skibidi rizz my guy, never Ohio max Danny, it would destroy the time stream."

How is this the same person thst sent that flowery worded message from before? Simple, it was an older Clock Work, as his body cycles through ages, so does his words and how they are used...sadly.

Rolling the young Clock Work off himself, Danny glared for a moment before sighing, "if you brought me here just to sprout brain rot I am calling Technus and making him ban your accounts..."

The small Clock Work glared at Danny for a moment before shifting to a more mature form, "Truely if my excited form is too much for you I fear for the other citizens of the realm." Not letting Danny defend himself the now man steam rolled on, "But that matters not as of now, for I must instruct you on another Kingly duty that you have yet to do."

Danny sucked in a breath and tried to stop the growl that wanted to come out, he would save it for his office and his mountains of paperwork, "Another? I am already drowning in paperwork! I am this close to helping Vlad get my mom just so he teaches me the duplication trick he does!" Pacing the teen dragged his hands down his face, "I am barely in the 800s BC! Undergrowth doesn't need to help save a certain flower that can only be found on one island because it fucking sunk and became Atlantis! Did you know that's how I found out it was real? Fucking Atlantis is real and I found out through paperwork!"

As he ranted Danny gripped at his hair, tugging at it as he continued "I can't even process that because I have Walker up my ass, every second paper is him asking for more funding! Why does he need more ecto? He only has 5 inmates at a time?"

Clockwork o lyrics crossed his arms, watching as Danny raved onward, after he hit the five minute mark, Clock Work grabbed the teen by his shoulders and shook him lightly, "Daniel this will not be anything like the paper work, will you kindly cease speaking and let me tell you what it is?"

---

Billy yawned and decided that today would be a good day, it wasn't really anything that was about this morning that was unnormally good or nice, but Billy couldn't shake the feeling it was going to be great!

Stretching, as he shucked off his sleeping bag, the teen rolled off his sleeping pad and fumbled for his phone, a small rinky dink flip phone he had gotten with prepaid minutes.

Yawning again as he checked on the time, he nodded, he would be able to stop by the shelter in an hour to get breakfast, he could thr pop behind the general store to see if Mister Mathew had anything he needed help with/ was throwing out.

Shuffling around his makeshift area, Billy packed up his things, slotting them into an old military backpack he had been able to snag out of a dumpster, it only had a few holes! Practically brand new for a homeless kid.

Checking over his League communicator, he made sure that the world didn't end while he was sleeping, and set off for the day, humming a tune as he walked through the abandoned subways under his city.

Coming out to one of the less abandoned places, he waved at some of the kinder homeless population, he had been on the streets longer than most, but for some reason a lot of them still treated him like he was fresh out of a foster home.

Taking a deep breath as he came up into the light of day, Billy hummed, a smile on his face as he set to do his morning rounds.

---

Okay so it seemed like the day was purposely trying to make Billy get in a bad mood, the shelter denied him entry since they were full up, which is fine, he has protein bars in his backpack.

Then it seemed like Mister Mathew forgot to tell his new hire about their little deal so he got cussed out and chased off, which is again, is fine, he will try again later when he knows for sure that Mister Mathew is actually there.

No, what was the serious thing that was trying to make him have a bad day was the twenty story tall tentacles that were whipping around trying to destroy the better part of down town Fawcett city.

"Oh shiz...am heh." Shaking his head from his own little pun, the teen ran into a near by alley, did a once over to make sure there wasn't any unexpected viewers, and then called out the old wizards name, "Shizam!"

Lighting tore through the sky and slammed into his chest, in a flash of light Billy Batson, homeless 14 year old was gone, and where he stood was Captain Marvel, Champion of Magic.

---

He didn't do it on purpose, Danny swears mentally as he flew out of reach of the dark whip like tentacle, he still wasn't used to traveling by the Ring of Rage and well...his portaling wasn't as good as it probably should be...

Sending a blast of ecto at what he could only assume to be a being outside of his comprehension, Danny sneered at it "Oy grippy face! Leave the people alone! I brought you here dammit! Fight me you sad sack of calamari!"

Grinning as his taunts got him a feral grumbling and black ichor bubbling at what he could only assume a mouth was? He didn't really care as he focused on freezing the tentacle that missed him, stopping it before it could slam into a near by building.

But before Danny could attack the beast, he froze, his dead heart suddenly pounding in his ears.

After the portal accident, Danny instinctively had a sense about electricity, he could practically taste it when there was a high voltage.

And right now? His mouth was like an ozone ocean, his arm burned once again along the lines of his Lichtenberg scar, and with a boom that rattled Danny's core and left stars flying around his vision, a bolt of white lightning shot from a figure flying not to far away towards the great tentacle beast, making it squeal in pain.

But Danny was still frozen, eyes wide and hands shaking, as another bolt of brilliant white shot out from the being, a man in a scarlet suit, a snow white cape fluttering behind him, and a golden lightning built across his chest.

Danny was not going to have fun this fight isn't he?