#genuinely would die for ghost powers
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a-thin-layer-of-dust · 9 months ago
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One Danny Phantom headcanon (canon?? i think??) that i don't actually like is the idea that it takes Danny energy to switch to his ghost form, any more than it takes to switch to his human form.
Like, when he gets really tired or gets hit particularly hard, he switches back to his human form, but I feel like that? shouldn't? happen?? I feel like both of his forms should be as easily inhabited as the other. I feel like switching between them should be as easy as breathing. (Well okay, switching too much, I could see how that could get exhausting on his forms, as he is switching his biology a ton, but that goes both ways!)
Also, I think his intangible, invisible, and floating powers should be easy for him to use. I just think those wouldn't require him to exert any energy. If anything, I think it would be harder to do the opposite! To be visible and tangible, to appear as though gravity has any effect on him.
I have little to no explanation for why I feel this way, thanks <3
I don't know if this makes any sense at all, but....
ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ
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theheadlessgroom · 8 months ago
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@beatingheart-bride
Randall felt a bit like a yo-yo during this conversation, going from brightening at the suggestion of a courthouse wedding, only to falter when Emily pointed out the time discrepancy. She was right: It'd need to be open very late for their wedding, and that just may not be a possibility...
However, it didn't take June to say, as she took a sip of her tea, "Well, tell you what: I treat a couple of the justice's grandchildren at the clinic, and we've spoken a few times when he's brought them in-his daughter and her husband sometimes can't get out of work, so he steps up. Why don't I talk to him, and see if there's anything we can arrange?"
"Really, Ma?" Randall asked, brows rising in surprise at this suggestion, at which his mother shrugged with a little smile, saying, "It's worth a shot!" She could tell him that her son and his bride-to-be both worked very late and wouldn't be able to make it any earlier than the evening-given the odd hours his daughter and son-in-law worked at their joint law firm, he might understand.
"Unless you two have any other ideas?" Wilhelm ventured to ask, at which Randall smiled, admitting, "Nothing in particular," before turning to Emily-did she have an alternative suggestion?
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nonbinaryphantom · 1 year ago
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i think in reaper au danny would actually try to get rid of his powers but it would actually have some rationale bc he just had the Revelations and he’s like fuck if i want to keep my sense of self i gotta get rid of my powers only for it not to work and there would be the terror of lack of freedom
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lady-lauren · 3 months ago
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❥ SHANKS X FEM!READER
❥ WORD COUNT: 2.3k
❥ WARNINGS/TAGS: forced orgasms, some yandere vibes, dub-con to be safe, very inappropriate use of conqueror's haki, power dynamics (captain/crew), praise, creampie, Shanks is so mean but so good and I would die for him
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→ Kinktober Masterlist ←
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“You’re gonna cum for me, darlin’, even if I have to take it from you.”
The weight of his words curl around your throat like a vice, blood pumping in your ears you until can barely hear his boisterous laugh. 
The smile he gives is so cheshire, so oddly genuine, it makes a shiver of fear run down the back of your neck. Perhaps it’s actually pleasure, but the emotions are too entangled for your brain to piece apart your state of mind. 
He’s not letting you go this time, not until he gets what he wants. 
“Shanks,” you plead, nails gripping into the black fabric of his cloak, “we shouldn’t, you’re my captain, and I—”
“And your captain knows what’s best for you. Promise.”
The playful lilt in his voice is disarming. 
He always lures you in so easily, and usually you can squirm away, calm your raging heart and pretend like you’re not the object of his desires. Because you shouldn’t be, you can’t be, you’re honor bound to serve him as your captain and you refuse to let lust cloud your relationship to Shanks. He helped make you a pirate. You’re more than a mistress.
Yet he’s already stripped you bare for him tonight, easy work for one of the most powerful men on the seas.
Warm lips press into your cheek as you turn your face from him, gritting your teeth as you deny his kiss.
Shanks chuckles in the face of your defiance, squishing his fingers into your cheeks to make you look at him. 
“You know, you really are cute, thinking you can stop me. Besides, don’t you want to follow Captain’s orders, hm? That’s why I picked you—you’re so loyal, always willing to please. But you should please and be pleased.”
His eyes close with a sincere smile, the pink scars nearly shining in the firelight of his room.
Perhaps you do forget sometimes how weak you are compared to him, to the man who can cut down enemies with a single gaze. 
Trapped between his colossal body and the wall, you have nowhere to run, no way to slink off and keep only ghosts of his touches. He’s going to make you feel every moment.
“Want me to show you how good I can make you feel?” 
“Trust me, I know, I know how good you’d feel, but I can’t—”
“You have no idea.”
Somehow he feels closer, as if the sun-kissed skin of his chest from his parted shirt is already blending into yours. He is darkness clouding over you, engulfing you.
He cups your chin with his hand, big fingers spilling down onto your neck. He slants his mouth over yours before you can protest, moving plush lips until you can’t help but moan. Spiced rum, aged and smooth, greets you when his tongue slides between parted lips. He kisses like a dance, like a back and forth that he leads.
“Breathe,” he whispers, and you don’t have to ask why. You sense his conqueror’s haki in the air before you feel the power lick at your skin, dragging and pulling and hot. 
“Cum for me.”
Lightning quick, your tummy tightens, the pleasure centers of your brain on overload as he overtakes you. Desire boils down to your cunt like a poisonous liquid heat, unbearable, sinful, yet so, so blissful as your pussy flutters and you fall over the crest of orgasm. 
“Fuck! Oh, fuck you, fuck, fuck…” Your eyes squeeze closed as the ecstasy is literally ripped from your body, like he somehow sunk his hand inside your core and extracted all the delight he craves. 
“Doesn’t that feel good?”
You can’t help but nod, because yes, it does, as if pleasure is bursting like supernovas underneath your skin. Your hands are clinging to him, one around the back of his neck, the other beneath his shirt, like you can’t help but be closer to the source of your heat.
“Shanks, I…” your tongue is so thick in your mouth, searching for words you can’t think of.
“Now imagine just how fucking good you’ll feel when you do that on my cock.” 
“Please, oh, god, please.”
His famous laugh greets your ears and you’re almost knocked back to the reality of who has you in his grasp. 
“That’s my girl.” 
You’re in his bed before you know it, eyes glassy at the sight of his naked body. You knew he’d be beautiful, but the actual view of him, on his knees, pumping his cock in his hand while between your legs has you whining.
“What’s going on in your pretty little head? Tell me.” 
“I…want you, so badly, and I-I’m sorry for pushing you away. I never—”
He shushes you, takes his hand from his cock so he can brush the back of his finger across your cheek, “You were just doing what you thought was right. Didn’t wanna just be my plaything, did you? I know you wanted to be my strong little pirate, but you can be both.” 
“Promise?” 
“Swear it.” He grins like a little boy as he mockingly draws an X across his heart with his finger. 
How can someone so deadly be so adorable?
Your instincts are flaring again, telling you to run, that once he sinks his claws into you, you’ll only ever be his. Nothing more, nothing less. 
Maybe that doesn’t sound so bad, especially not with how good it feels when he buries his hand between your thighs, fingers playing in your wetness. 
Shanks is equal parts messy and methodical, swirling his fingers around in your slick folds before rubbing his thumb over your already sensitive clit. You cry out, back arching and nails digging so deeply in his pillows you swear you hear fabric rip.
“Think I made you wet enough to take my cock already, don’t you?” 
To prove his point, he slides his slick-drenched fingers between your lips, letting you taste yourself. You nod your affirmation as you suck against his skin, his eyes shining as you wrap your tongue around his fingers.
You eye his cock between his legs, preening at the thought of having him inside you. His cock is pretty, fat, already leaking and veins straining beneath silken skin. Red curls crawl up his toned stomach and you nearly drool around his fingers. 
All you ever wanted was to be a pirate, but the sight of your captain’s cock has you content to be a whore.
“Been dreamin’ about you in my sheets ever since I found you, darlin’. Knew you were the one for me, my perfect girl.”
“Oh please,” you gasp as he draws his fingers from your mouth, dragging them down to your tit so he can pinch your nipple, “you know what praise does to me, Shanks.”
“Of course I do,” he sing-songs, grasping his dick and pushing his tip between your folds. He presses in, a cant of his hips shoving his cock halfway into your dripping hole. Your head falls back at the stretch, cooing at the feel of him. 
Shanks is clearly done chasing you, mindset moved to capture, to take. He bottoms out and immediately starts moving, grinning as he watches your pussy lips drag along his length. 
He wolf-whistles at the sight, making you flush with a strange mixture of embarrassment and pride. “Look at that pretty fucking pussy. So slutty already for me.”
Strong fingers push your thigh back, spreading you wide as he starts his pace. 
“Now,” Shanks clicks his tongue against his teeth, “let’s see what it feels like when I make you cum around my cock.” 
“You don’t, ah,” you gasp as his cockhead prods against a soft spot, “h-have to make me, I’ll—” 
“Shh, I’ll take care of you, baby. Let me make you feel good, yeah?” 
There’s no time to think, not with how fast he acts, a simple look into your eyes has you shattering until you scream. The pleasure claws from your depths all over again, more intense now that your cunt has his fat cock to convulse around. You suck him in deep as you fall, bliss blooming over every nerve ending. Your toes curl, your nails cut into his shoulders, your stomach nearly hurts from the twisting of your orgasm. 
“God damn, you feel so fucking good when you do that, get so tight around me.” 
“Sh-Sha—mhm, fuck,” you try to protest, to say something, but the way his body moves into yours is like the mesmeric waves, lulling you into a headspace of drifting euphoria. 
He’s all over you—hand in your hair, tongue sliding down your neck, lips sucking at the fat of your tits, teeth scraping along your curves. He’s all encompassing, snaking his arm behind your back until you're pressed against his thick chest and rocking with every thrust.
The orgasms have made you numb, all you feel is pure carnality, like now you just exist to fuck and be fucked.
For a moment you wonder if he’s still forcing it on you, but you decide you don’t care. He’s the only one who can make you feel like this, haki or no.
Shanks brushes his nose down your cheek, lips hot and wet as he kisses your skin, “Touch me, baby, be with me.” 
Like puppetry, your hands trace his musculature, taking note of how his shoulders roll with every push and how his abdominal muscles stiffen whenever your cunt spasms from pleasure.
You kiss over the freckles on his shoulder, down to the thick bicep he no longer wraps in bandages. 
He groans as your lips get close to where his arm used to be, a purr from deep in his chest like you’re too close to something vulnerable.
“Gonna take from you again, darlin.’ Gotta feel your cunt suck me dry.” 
“N-no I can—I can do it, I can cum for you, promise.” 
“Mhm, where’s the fun in that when I can just make you?”
His hand snakes around your body, letting you sink into the bed free of his hold. He teases your clit just because he can, because he likes watching you wiggle and writhe and whine beneath him.
You suck in a sob, “Please, just a little more, more, and I—”
Shanks’ haki feels like the warm licks of familiar fire. He burns because you let him too close, stared too long at the flames. 
You’re sure he purposely brings the assault of his conqueror's power on slower, lets it bleed and blend with the ecstasy building from the sensitive pressure on your clit. 
This crest is bigger, fuller, like you’ve been thrown from the Red Force into the toiling dark ocean. Only it’s boiling, scorching and tugging the pleasure from deep within your belly. 
“Oh god,” you throw your head back and whine, “too hot.” 
Shanks groans deep from his chest, fingers pausing on your clit as he feels you cum around him. His thighs shake, cock twitching and throbbing. Mean fingers dig into the softness of your belly like he’s clinging to sanity, holding himself back just enough to be in control. 
“One more, baby.”
He starts thrusting again, a slow grind into your depths that has red curls kneading into your clit. You feel him in your guts, your heart, like the beat of blood in your veins. 
“C-can’t, god, can’t, please.” Please no. Please yes. You’re back in an entanglement of emotions where no way is up, the sun still so far from underneath the waves.
Shanks buries his face in your neck, red hair fanning like embers across overheated skin. 
He sucks at your pulse, flesh between his lips, “yes you can, my good girl. For me.” 
You’re slammed into a new atmosphere, floating for seconds before being dragged back down, down to where you feel details of your name whispered against your throat and the pulsing of a thick cock as ropes of cum spill into tight, gummy walls. 
“Fuuuucckk, oh g-god, Shanks, hurts, so good, shit—”
You babble until your mouth runs dry, anchored by your captain’s bruising grasp on your hip. He has you flush against his body, heavy breaths syncing as you both float up from hell.
It’s like waking up from a dream when he starts kissing you, all feather-light and reverent. He sits up and his lopsided smile seems so sincere. 
“So proud of you, really thought you were gonna pass out there for a second.” He laughs playfully, blowing a stray red hair from his face. 
All you do is whine and shift your sore hips, gasping at the feel of his cock still hard and deep inside you. 
You’re not sure how much time passes before he pops his dick out—your heart beats are too erratic to count as seconds. 
He sinks praises into your skin, kissing down your breasts, your belly, making you jerk when he kisses the mound of your pussy. 
His breath is hot on your clit. That feeling has your mind shattering like porcelain, a sharp smack centering you straight back into reality. You sit up and stare at the scene before you, sharp-eyed prey watching a predator in the forest. 
“Shanks, no, please, for the love of god—” 
“No no no no, it’s okay,” he coos from between your legs, eyes closing and head cocking to the side as he smiles, “I’m not gonna take this one from you. Promise. Gonna let you do it all by yourself, nice and slow.” 
It’s easy to forget that Shanks is a bad liar when he shoves his pretty face down to eat his cum from your pussy. 
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the-witchhunter · 4 months ago
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You know, I’m just imagining Danny hanging around John Constantine trying to scare/haunt him and how poorly that would go
1) Danny canonically sucks at scaring people. He resorted to stealing Fright Knight’s sword because he knew he wasn’t beating Dash making a haunted house. I repeat, the ghost could not compete with a human when it came to making a haunted house
2) Danny Phantom is rated TV-Y7, Hellblazer was printed under DC’s vertigo publishing house, meaning it 18+, John has seen some seriously messed up shit. He’s dealt with serial killers, demons, the Newcastle incident(iykyk) been to hell multiple times, has seen a lot of people die, was homeless in New York during the AIDS crisis
Danny could not traumatize that man but boy is he going to get accidentally traumatized if he hangs around John
It’s not even a power level thing, genuinely messed up things happen around John that Danny is not prepared for
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thisischaostragic · 24 days ago
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i have been holding space for the Agatha finale (i’m in queer media) and am pleased to report that my feelings about it have shifted quite significantly. follow me, my friends, to a more or less coherent, very long text post at the end
primary thing: this show is very much about motherhood. idk why that didn’t totally register for me in the first half given how often they mentioned Nicky, but realizing this changed my analysis a ton. Billy doesn’t just remind Agatha of Nicky — Agatha loves Billy like a son. (i know “like a son” is an oversimplification, but I’m sticking with it for this post.)
with that, my thoughts on Agatha’s arc almost completely flipped. when Rio shows up in E8 and says she has to take Billy, Agatha is revisiting her deepest wound all over again. her reaction is harsh, but it’s not some long-simmering revenge plan or a calculated effort to hurt Rio. Agatha is literally just reacting to the fact that, after all of the almost-reconciliation, the love of her life is taking her son again. i think she was trying to get Rio to fight for her or to say the trade was too high a price and bend the rules. Agatha was trying to get Death to act only as her lover, and looks devastated when Rio actually walks away instead.
and so, when Agatha goes to the morgue trial and says that “sometimes, boys die,” she’s continuing that realization that Rio isn’t personally chasing her down and causing her grief. sometimes, death just… happens. and “out of Death, life” is largely about Agatha realizing that Rio did bend the rules for Nicky, but also doubles down on the Nicky and Billy parallels. both of Agatha’s sons were literally borne of Death and living on stolen time. loss is inevitable.
i think Agatha genuinely believed that Rio could have kept Nicky alive and chose not to. we know that Agatha blamed herself for Nicky dying (“the truth is too awful”). so Agatha, who was taught by her own mother that nobody would ever actually love her for who she is, probably thought that the love of her life just… didn’t love her as much as she thought she did. going back to E1, i think “you don’t have a heart” is equal parts about Nicky as it is about Agatha herself. her main takeaway is that everyone will betray her, even when they claim to love her, and so she hides behind power and a god awful reputation so that she can keep everyone at arm’s length and never get hurt again.
ALL OF THIS IS TO SAY: when Billy is about to die, Agatha almost retreats back into the version of herself she became after Nicky died, but she doesn’t. she turns around and faces the pain head-on.
and I want to take a second to appreciate how immensely hard that would be. Agatha spent centuries killing people so she could be powerful enough to stay numb. Agatha spent all of that time pushing away the love of her life, who still loves her, who still sees her fully, and who Agatha is clearly still desperate to return to. Agatha realizes, probably to absurd amounts of despair, that she was wrong about all of it. and she still turns around.
it’s not about Agatha randomly sacrificing herself for a last minute villain kind-of-redemption. it’s about Agatha breaking the cycle she’s trapped herself in for an unfathomably long time, admitting that she knows Rio couldn’t change the outcome, and acknowledging that, yeah, she actually does love this kid.
and honestly?? i don’t think Agatha becoming a ghost counts as killing her. she’s literally still around, doing stuff, picking up brooches (👀 Rio wya), and getting a second chance at… not motherhood, exactly, but caring for a child. (and a queer child! and the idea of Agatha, who has been queer since the *1600s*, getting to tell this gay kid over and over again that there’s nothing innately wrong with him makes me actually sob.)
HOWEVER! i maintain some criticisms. i think Jen deserved to have an actual fight with the doctor who bound her. (the oops! it was Agatha All Along twist was… complicated. i have mixed feelings. essay for another day, but i wanted Jen to have rage time that everyone was just cheering for.)
i needed Death lore. how is she physically with Agatha so often if, as Agatha states, 120 people die every minute? is she Death the cosmic entity, or are green witches sort of responsible for decay on earth?
some of the plot elements were severely under-developed, and frustratingly, the vast majority of the underdeveloped plotlines had to do with Agatha/Rio’s romantic relationship, Agatha’s mother, and Agatha’s reasons for killing people. (the fact that they said she’s a siphon in interviews and not once on the show will never stop baffling me lmao.) i find it very frustrating that a LARGE chunk of the underdeveloped stuff relates back to Agatha’s queerness in some way.
however… i am willing to be generous about some of that, because i find it difficult to believe that this *extremely queer* creative team actually just disregarded major queer plot elements. i am far more inclined to believe that they were operating under a hostile corporation and pushing as far as they could, and in that case, they did a fucking phenomenal job.
i genuinely think that the way they landed the show opens the door for them to… dare I say it? … give Agatha/Rio a happy ending?? ghost Agatha literally need only show up to Rio’s house or cave or dimension or whatever and be like “heyyyyy, yeah that kiss was forgiveness and also i’m solid enough to use my hands now” and it would be believable. the fact that it would take them only 15 seconds to give us two fucked up lesbians having their version of happily ever after is actually pretty cool
anyway, this is an abridged summary of how my feelings abt the Agatha All Along finale went from like a 4/10 rating to an 8/10.
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flurry-of-beaus-pop-pop · 2 months ago
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When Agatha tells Rio that she never wants to see her again if she delivers Billy to her at the end of the road and Rio says "okay", there's a moment where Agatha leans back and looks genuinely surprised, like she didn't believe that Rio would agree and there's just so much to unpack there.
There is definitely an element of Agatha and Rio's relationship that is broken because of Rio's direct involvement as Death, because she is the one that took Nicholas from Agatha, and so Rio's presence in Agatha's life is a direct reminder of that... that no matter how much Agatha may want to just lose herself in Rio's embrace (because she definitely does, their moment where they actually give themselves a moment to just hold each other is proof of that), she isn't ready to face what happened with Nicholas and so she isn't ready to face Rio (the original dialogue for this scene captures this point so much better than what they changed it to), because facing Rio, at this point, means facing Nicholas.
But there's also an element of this interaction, this moment where Agatha pushes and Rio concedes, and Agatha looks surprised, that brings out another element of their relationship... that ever since Nicholas, one of the only things that has been constant for Agatha... is Rio.
When it comes to grief, especially unexpected grief or grief that occurs after losing someone far before their time, it's not at all uncommon to turn our anger towards the people that are still there, towards the people that will always be there for us, no matter what, because we often feel like we can't be mad at the person we lost (even though it's a completely valid response to death). The issue is, if we can't direct that anger at what is actually making us angry, we have to direct it somewhere, hence putting it on those we know won't leave.
This, in my opinion, is what happened with Agatha and Rio... Agatha isn't ready to face the fact that, as she said, sometimes, boys just die. She needs there to be a reason, she needs to place that anger on someone, and the only other person that was there was Rio, and so she puts that anger on Rio, she pushes and snaps and no matter what, Rio comes back, she's always there.
Until this moment. Once again, Agatha didn't know how to handle what it was she was feeling, couldn't handle the reminders of Nicholas that Rio brought, and so she lashed out, said things she knew would hurt Rio, expecting that, once again, Rio would take it, and still be there.
Except this time, as often happens in circumstances like these, Rio reached her breaking point, and agreed. If Agatha delivered Billy, she would respect Agatha's wishes and leave her alone.
And this shocked Agatha, scared her even, because while Rio was a painful reminder of Nicholas, she was also a beautiful reminder of love and happiness and safety and vulnerability, a reminder of how it felt by Agatha to finally be understood by someone, to have someone that just got it... and she had always taken it for granted that when she was ready, Rio would be there... except now she pushed too far, pushed the one person she had left, away.
This makes her decision to kiss Rio as a means of taking Rio's powers make a lot more sense... yes, there was an element of Agatha's decision to take Rio's powers that was a calculated risk as far as becoming a ghost is concerned, but Agatha didn't have to kiss Rio for that to happen.
Agatha kissed Rio in that moment because she knew, no matter what happened... whether she walked away, whether she became a ghost, or whether she died, that Rio was going to respect those wishes and wouldn't be there anymore, and so Agatha gave herself one last moment of vulnerability, one last moment to give in to everything she feels for Rio, to allow herself that final moment to just give in... in that final moment, Agatha chose to put the anger and the grief aside, and chose to spend one last moment enveloped by love.
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supernova41st · 3 months ago
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Can I request tf2 mercs with a reader who is genuinely terrifying. Like there quiet, sneaky, uncanny, basically reader is kinda like the mercs very own cryptid. (Bonus points if reader is tall af<3)
Boo 🤍
A/n: Spy’s is a little short here 😣 I hope you weren’t too eager to see his lol. I got a little experimental with this one, not too much tho. Also I’ll be going on another break, I know I just finished one but I’m going through an unexpected rough time rn. So sorry guys, hope you enjoy <33
Warnings: Video used may be a spoiler for s2 of scream queens, Praying is used in a humorous light
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To start things off, you introduced yourself in the worst way possible. The bus that you were supposed to take got broken down so you had to find your way through the base without knowing where the entrance was. So what’d you do? Bang into a bunch of glass windows at 3am while it was RAINING. Some of the mercs were up trying to fix up the power generator and..
I saved that clip for weeks I’m so happy I have a reason to use it now
I know they’re all supposed to be big bad mercs but you scared the living FUCK out of them.
Scout
This man went running. He went all the way from the generator to the fucking bunks in the span of a minute! So what’d he do when he got to his room? He grabbed his cross necklace, got on his knees, and started PRAYING.
“Please god Jesus frickin’ Christ hear my prayers, save me-I’m sorry about all those magazines I keep under my bunk and I’m sorry that I told spy to go fuck himself when he told me I couldn’t pull bitches and I’m sorry I call girls bitches please just don’t let me friggin’ die dude!!”
He just kept chanting the same things until Miss Pauling found him cradling himself on his bed with a blanket wrapped around him.
“Scout what are you doing?”
“THERE IS A GHOST IN THE BASE.”
“Oh, you mean y/n?”
‘Hi 👁️‍🗨️👁️‍🗨️’
Yea he was pretty freaked out by you. To make it worse, you always just stare at him. He can’t remember a single moment where he looked at you and didn’t catch your tiny pupils locked onto him.
At first he’d just gently wave awkwardly while you did the same so freakishly. Eventually he decided to say something because it was scaring him, something he’ll never admit
“Yo you got a problem or somethin’, what’s with all the stares?”
“Nothing, I just like looking at you. Your structure pleases me.”
“..oh, well that’s actually-wait I thought-hold on do you really-pfft-Yeesh, I didn’t expect you out of everyone to haha.. Yknow”
Yeah he was blushing like crazy, such a straightforward compliment.
He’s still scared of you, but he uses you as his hype man every now and then. He’ll fish for compliments and WILL receive them
“Dontcha think I got some nice racks for a guy?”
“..Totally”
He could literally walk up to you and threaten to kill you and your reaction is just “yuh go for it”
If you’re freakishly tall then he calls you tree. Cuz
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If you’re on the shorter side then he would just pick you up from the shoulders and kiss you on the forehead. He knows you won’t do shit, you’re literally just 🧍‍♀️
(gotg reference)
“I am hideous? :(“
“You kiddin’? You’re horrifying to look at”
Engineer
He didn’t even notice everyone else went running, he just kept on working on the electrical box. So when he stood up and saw you staring straight into the glass, he jumped a little but was mostly just confused
“What in the..”
“tap tap-Can you let me in?”
You’re lucky he didn’t go running like everyone else, you probably would’ve died from the flu if you spent another second outside in the freezing rain.
He puts a bell on you. He just had one laying around and tied it around the your wrist, it didn’t work because of how stiff your movements were so to ‘help’ you rang it against his ear.
“..”
“…..🔔🔔🔔🔔”
“GOD DAMN IT- oh, y/n”
“Sorry, the bell wasn’t ringing how you wanted it to so I rang it myself”
“Uh-huh, thanks for the warning partner”
From my experience southern people love to make conversation, but you aren’t really familiar with that. So when he tries to flirt it gets pretty awkward
“How’s it goin’ sugar, I reckon your looking quite nice today”
“👁️‍🗨️👁️‍🗨️”
“..you gonna say anythin’ back?”
“Oh, um.. I like your face.”
“Woah, alright then.”
He feels so embarrassed when he stands next to your tall ass, it makes him feel belittled. Especially when you actively have to look down just to make eye contact
But if you’re short then he loves it. Finally for once he doesn’t have to be reminded of his height when standing next to anyone.
Spy
He’s gone as soon as you show up. Like straight up disappears. He doesn’t like to show fear-makes him look weak
He’s convinced you could still see him though, cuz you happen to look in his direction even while he was invisible.
You don’t scare him as much as the others, if anything he took a bit of a liking to you because you stressed him out the least compared to the others. He always stood next to you + you were always his first pick for missions
You always make small talk with him. He doesn’t enjoy it but he still responds
“What is under your mask?”
“That is none of your business.”
“Why? Do you look like me?”
Spy doesn’t know if he should feel offended or annoyed
You don’t necessarily startle him like everyone else but you do make his heart jump slightly when you pop out of nowhere, you can see it in his pupils but never his body.
Pyro
HE RAN TOO BUT DIDN’T KNOW WHY LMFAO
He just saw everyone running and went ‘oh okay we’re doing this now 🏃‍♂️’
But seriously, he fell in love with you at first sight. Your features felt so intricate to him, you always gave each other blank stares, zoning into each other’s eyes.
‘⚫️ ⚫️’
“👁️‍🗨️👁️‍🗨️ hi”
“⚫️ ⚫️ mmf”
You’re the only person who can fully understand him. No, not using his body language, you can actually tell what he’s saying. He aw’s at that, finally someone knows what he’s saying.
It makes him more self aware than how he was before, he’ll say some really petty shit and when you react he panics
“Mmph mmm”
“um pyro I need you to calm yourself”
“Mm!”
Somehow you disturb HIM, you’ll point something out to him and talk to him like he’s crazy which makes him crazy
“Pyro, you reek of fire, it’s 30° outside, and it’s a cease day. Do you have any thoughts?”
“Mmmf mmm mph ☹️”
*plz leave me alone
Since you and him are so observant, the rest of the mercs are a little spooked by you guys. You’ll be in the corner with him watching and everyone is fairly weirded out.
“Mm mmmfmm mm”
“Pyro you’re hilarious.”
“What did thing say?”
“He said that if you were a littlest pet shop figure you’d be #508”
“..heavy is not sure what he expected”
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starry-bi-sky · 7 months ago
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tales of the passerine - danny fenton being bruce wayne's first kid
okay okay. so this is like a continuation/elaboration of my oneshot/prompt i wrote about the idea that Danny was the first batkid. We have a lot of aus where he joins the family after the rest of the bats do, right? So hey! Lets shake things up a bit. Danny is the first to be adopted by Bruce Wayne.
Danny's parents and unfortunately Jazz die shortly after the events of TUE -- how so? I was gonna say an ecto-filter explosion, that would call back to the TUE explosion and trauma behind that. But lets do something new! Carbon-monoxide poisoning.
It's not too unexpected for something to break in the Fenton house, especially with the Fenton parents' questionable understanding of proper weapon handling and lab safety. The water heater broke from a stray shot by one of the weapons, and was promptly MacGyver'd incorrectly. Danny went to stay with Tucker for a guys' night, and came back to a dead silent house.
(Danny's neighbors got a very unfortunate shock when he ran to the next house over in hysterics.)
There was a lot of shuffling around with CPS, the police. People had to be called in to handle the equipment in the lab, and the GIW was rumoring to show up in aid to clearing the scene. When Danny heard of that, he immediately went and dismantled the ghost portal to the best of his abilities. He burned the physical blueprints of all his parents' inventions, their blueprints on the ghost portal, and their most dangerous weapons were destroyed beyond recognition. Anything to prevent the GIW from getting their hands on his parents' tech.
It opened up another investigation, but he was not under the list of suspects. He was placed in the care of Vlad Masters, where they then went back to the rebuilt castle mansion in Wisconsin. Danny, terrified of the future that has once passed and may do so again, shuts down in his grief. Inadvertently, he ends up somewhat repressing his ghost half. Something Vlad, who is grieving Madeline but relishing in Jack's demise and his custody of Daniel, is not very happy with.
Vlad's... gone into a bit of a mental health spiral. He's becoming increasingly possessive over Daniel, the final remnants of his friends and a liminal being like him. He doesn't like that Danny's repressing his ghost half -- both out of genuine concern as a ghost, but also because of his desire to control Danny and groom him into the perfect son. If you ever had a phase where you read Dark SBI found family fics, first off; me too bro, and second off; those are the vibes I'm thinking of.
Danny's mentally shut down from grief! And fear. He's dropped into a bad depressive state -- paralyzed with grief and the terror of the inevitable. Clockwork saved his parents because he believes in second chances, but what's the point of that when his family ended up dead anyways? Danny doesn't wanna believe that he's destined to become evil, and he's holding out onto that hope, but it's a thin line, and he feels utterly hopeless and trapped. He hasn't used his powers or ghost form since he trashed the lab, and Vlad has alarms set up to prevent him from trying to escape.
He's also unintentionally cut off Sam and Tucker -- both of whom are so scared and concerned for Danny too, and are trying their damndest to reach out to him. He keeps ignoring their texts. Danny basically haunts Vlad's manor. He goes out to eat if he has to, attends parties Vlad drags him to, and stays in his room all day if he can.
At parties, Vlad doesn't allow Danny to leave his side, or really talk to anyone -- not that Danny wants to. A product of Vlad's increasing possessiveness. Well, he almost doesn't let Danny leave his side. Danny has a habit of slipping off to hide somewhere for the parties whenever he can, and Vlad reluctantly allows it so long as he stays alone.
This becomes an advantage when eventually, Bruce Wayne returns to Gotham after missing for years, and holds a bright charity ball to celebrate the return. Vlad has been chomping at the bits to get his hands on Wayne Industries, and with the return of its owner there is no better opportunity to wipe out his rival. He goes, and he as normal, brings Daniel with him.
Vlad thinks Wayne will bleed his little heart out for Daniel's poor orphan sob story -- he's a fellow orphan himself, after all. He's not wrong; Wayne's little heart will bleed, just not in the way that benefits him.
Bruce sees Vlad and Danny approaching before they're even close enough to introduce themselves - and like with many of the children he will soon come to care for, it's like someone set a mirror into the past right in front of him.
Danny Fenton's suit is tailor-made for him, and despite the fact that it's his perfect size, the sag in his shoulders, the ducked down head, and the way he hunches into himself all pictures the image of a child in shoes too big for him. There's a far away, glazed over look in his eyes and grief marble-cut into the lines of his face. There's not enough makeup in the world that will hide the dark circles under his eyes.
("My nephew, Daniel Fenton." Vlad's hands are possessive on Danny's shoulders. Bruce immediately notices the way the boy tenses under his touch. "His parents passed recently, and as his godfather I was designated his guardian.") ("I'm so sorry, the loss must've been terrible.") ("Yes, carbon-monoxide poisoning caused it. Daniel was out with friends, when he came home... they had already passed.") (Bruce immediately dislikes that Vlad shared the details of their death unprompted -- he likes it even less when Danny flinches at the reminder and hunches into himself.)
Danny runs off at some point earlier into the charity. At this point, parties are still being held at Wayne Manor (because iirc google search mentioned that was a thing at first before it was changed), so he disappears and hides in one of the empty rooms nearby. It just so happens to be the same room Bruce Wayne hides in when he needs a break from all of the socialization.
Thus begins a long, long process of trust. Bruce can't reveal his hand as being smarter than he looks, but he can be compassionate. Kindness needs no measure of intelligence. He keeps Danny company for as long as he can before he runs the risk of being found.
Rinse and repeat. Vlad insistently wants Wayne Industries, and he'll go to as many Wayne parties as he can to get his hooks into the man. The problem is that Bruce Wayne is never alone, and getting him alone is impossible. Finding him too. It's like the man never stops moving. Always talking to someone, always circling somewhere. He orbits around the room as if he isn't the sun of the Gotham Elite's solar system.
Danny's had such repetitive behavior that Vlad never thinks to believe that Bruce Wayne is disappearing to go talk to him. That "Vlad's" son is even interacting with him at all. Danny never gives him a reason to think so, and neither does Bruce.
Danny doesn't actually acknowledge Bruce until a handful of parties in, where he hands Bruce a small slip of paper he smuggled in that says; "don't trust Vlad". Danny's face stays carefully blank, but he's so tense that his hands are trembling, and he's purposely looking away from him. Bruce plasters a smile onto his face, slips the paper into his pocket, and tells him "okay".
(he's been busy with his own goals with the mafia, but he sets aside time to investigate Vlad Masters. He was holding off. Until now.)
Danny does eventually start speaking to Bruce, he's starting to really like the guy. He's starting to see a little hope, even as Vlad is starting to get more and more agitated with him the more he refuses to use his powers.
He reaches out to Sam and Tucker again, and starts trying to reconnect with them. Vlad has spyware on his phone, and he limits the amount of times he can talk to them. A weird parental control lock of some sort that leaves a time limit on how long he can talk to them for. 30 minutes. Danny doesn't tell them anything about Mr. Wayne.
Danny, slowly, wants out of here, and he's slowly gathering the motivation to do it. Vlad is genuinely scaring him -- and Danny wonders just how truthful the past-future Vlad was when he told him that Danny wanted his ghost half separate. He starts trying to come up with an escape plan.
Vlad has anti-ghost wards everywhere around the mansion, and while they're always on, they boost to full power at sunset. The doors and windows are always locked, all main exits have alarms set on them. The only reason it's not super extensive is because Danny hasn't tried leaving at all yet, so Vlad hasn't had to tighten anything.
At night, Vlad locks the door to his room and puts up an anti-ghost ward around the room. The mansion is on the outside westward side of Madison, more entrenched in rural Wisconsin. The closest town is a four-way stop sign with one house on three corners, and an open bar on the fourth. Not much to go.
He refuses to go to Sam and Tucker; Vlad would look there first. It's too dangerous. Vlad would sound alarm bells and have a manhunt looking for him, Danny can't risk going just anywhere. Too much risk of being found, sold out, or caught. There's really nowhere for him to hide.
Until there is. Bruce is telling Danny about the history of Wayne Manor, and says, as casually as saying the weather; "The manor has dozens of empty rooms, I'm sure Alfred wouldn't mind filling another one if he could." And quietly, hesitantly, Bruce places a careful hand on Danny's shoulder, unrestrictive and gentle; "He wouldn't mind getting one ready for you if you need one."
And there it is. There's his out.
Danny, just as quietly, replies; "I'll keep that in mind."
The ball starts rolling.
Now I've been trying to summarize this au as much as possible for length convenience, but Vlad has been steadily growing more and more controlling. More emotionally manipulative. More agitated at Danny for not using his powers.
He wants Wayne Industries under his thumb but he's been steadily growing more and more concerned with Danny. He's started grabbing him, yanking him around, shaking him; trying to goad him into using his powers. He gets angry when Danny doesn't react, or tells him he doesn't want to use his powers. He hasn't outright attacked him, but he's getting there. This has been happening over the time it takes for Bruce to indirectly offer Danny sanctuary at his home.
It all comes to a head when Vlad stops going to parties at all -- something Danny has to pretend he isn't upset about -- because Vlad doesn't want him around other people anymore. Vlad rarely goes now without him, and only leaves to go to a Wayne function or to handle something at VladCo.
Danny can't wait for Vlad to leave long enough to escape. So he leaves during the night of a big storm. Vlad's locked him in his room, but Danny doesn't bother trying to go for it; he goes to the alarmed window instead. Danny's been repressing his ghost half so long that he can't access his powers immediately anymore -- he can feel it, he knows its there, but he can't quite reach it.
He breaks the lock by hand.
Immediately the alarm goes off through the entire castle, filling the room with red, and he scrambles for the rope the Wisconsin Ghost left for him a few months back. Danny's already out and climbing down the side of the castle before Vlad even reaches his door -- the only good thing about the entire room being ghost-proof is that Vlad can't get in that way.
The rope ends before it reaches the bottom, and he's still twenty feet in the air. It won't kill him if he lands it right. Danny takes his chances, and drops. He breaks his ankle, but he survives.
And he fucking books it to the back garden. He hears Vlad shrieking over the thunder and rain.
I'll save the full experience for a future oneshot, but Danny makes it out into the nearby woods and forcibly experiences what it's like to be in a horror game, trying to hide from the thing that's hunting you. There's only one thing going through his mind; "i'm going to die"
I have this mental image for this scene. Very stereotypical horror imo. Where Danny is hiding behind a tree, with a hand over his mouth, and Vlad is a few feet away from him, glowing ominously red through the trees, trying to search for him.
Danny doesn't get away from this unscathed, but he does get away alive. That's all he could ask for. He gets away by getting his ghost half awakened long enough to transform into Phantom and fly to Gotham.
But he gets to Wayne Manor, he gets to Bruce. Or, at least, Alfred answers the door from his insistent pounding. Danny's just in tears and Alfred gets him in the living room, wrapped in a towel, with ice on his swollen leg before he has to step out and alert Bruce.
Bruce already breaks multiple traffic laws on a nightly basis. And that's just with the sheer existence of the batmobile itself, not including the speeding and military artillery attached. He breaks double the amount trying to speed back to the cave and get out of the suit.
Right off the bat: Bruce will know, at least before Dick enters the picture, about danny's powers. He'll figure out something considering the fact that Danny traveled from Wisconsin to New York in a single night. That'll be a bit of complicated affair, but I've already got something in mind.
Actually it'll probably be very soon after Danny joins the family, because Bruce tries to offer to fight for custody for Danny - the state Danny was in at arrival is clear enough evidence for a trial. But Danny immediately shuts it down, says it's not going to work and then Vlad will know Danny's with him and he won't be safe. He tells him that Vlad cannot know Danny was with Bruce.
Danny's biggest regret was not telling his parents he was a halfa, and while he doesn't want to tell mister wayne (yet), he does tell him about Vlad being one. He needs to know why Danny can't be seen with Bruce. So he tells him, and Danny's current plan is to just hide out from Vlad until he turns 18. That way, he has no more legal jurisdiction over him. After that? He's not sure.
And to wrap this up, since this has already gotten very long and I can make more posts about this au later; I've thought about it, and I'm going to say that Danny does become a vigilante before Dick enters the scene. He goes by, as you probably guessed; Nightingale. "Gale" for short.
#dpxdc#dp x dc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc crossover#tales of the passerine au#i dont want to overemphasize how much vlad sucks but also i dont want to downplay it. but also i didn't wanna make this post too long#i didn't emphasize enough on vlad's possessiveness but i wanted to make this post as general enough as possible for the au.#for some more wiggle room in the future if i make more posts about this au.#the consequences for Danny repressing himself was not a concern i was focused on for the post but i am thinking about it and mulling it ove#i'll be blunt my main specific reason for why this occurs shortly after tue is bc it means dani doesn't exist yet and it means i dont have#to include her in the continuation of this au. i love that girl but she's a dead weight. i dont wanna come up with an elaborate reason as#to why she's not in the picture when i can just say 'she never created in the first place' instead. i don't have anything for her to do#I don't want to risk giving her a poor plot line just so that she exists in au.#sometimes i really hate just how long my posts get. i feel like it kills my engagement. but i also don't want to make posts that have#a part 1 and part 2 just because I think it got too long.#i feel kinda bad for having Danny take the spot of 'first partner' from Dick. But that was part of the reason i was inspired to make this a#i've already got the skeleton of a reasoning for danny becoming a vigilante being made in my head.#He can't go by Phantom since that risks drawing Vlad's attention -- a new vigilante showing up in Gotham. a place the visited frequently#who goes by the name Phantom? He'd be on that faster than chickens on meat. and nightingale has familial meaning behind it due to being#part of an ancestral name. it follows robin's theme of using it to honor his parents while still having its own unique enough lore to stand#on its own without feeling like a cheap copy. plus the bonus meta reason that it follows the bird theme. which personally is vital to me#my other alternative to Nightingale is Sparrow. mostly because it has good phonetic structure for a hero name. not too many syllables#a good balance of consonants and vowels. dont want a hero name with too many syllables or unbalanced consonants. or worse; both.#my reasonings is that hero names should be easy for a civ or teammate to yell while still being understood. max amount of syllables before#it threatens to become too wordy is 3. If it goes over 3 it should have a balanced consonant-vowel ratio. Wonder Woman is a good example#some things got cut here that were in the initial oneshot. like danny giving bruce his physical ghost core and showing up bloody.#the first son au
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cherrys-side-bitch · 1 year ago
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The Great 7 AU
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Note: This is only general headcanons, I'm definitely writing more for this AU later
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Since a young age, Yuu has had their parents (mostly Jafar and Grimhilde) teaching them how to act appropriately while also being taught fighting and magic. So, with that, Yuu would know how to keep a cool head in almost any situation, though it may be hard to keep a straight face with some of the seven’s comments.
Even though they have the power of the seven, they decide to play the role of the “magicless” prefect. I headcanon that, similarly to the actual game, the mirror said that Yuu didn't have magic since Yuu, by default, is just a random human and can't use magic without the seven’s aid. Though the mirror possibly hinted at The Great Seven being present, it was likely vague and quickly forgotten due to the absurdity of the situation.
Despite only arriving in this world from another, they’re incredibly knowledgeable about magic, potions, and even the history of this world. It's almost suspicious to the other students that some begin to think that their story of being from another world might be a lie even though they insist it isn't. Admittedly, though Yuu knows the history, they are still clueless about the laws and places of this word. Don't let them play geoguessr. They might die. Either that, or they’ll cry, then you have the Great 7 to deal with.
On the topic of the Great Seven, they don't have physical forms, only visible to Yuu and possibly other ghosts (Sam also probably knows due to the whole “friends on the other side” thing, but who knows). However, I believe they can still influence the world around Yuu through magic, even if only a little. An example may be that Yuu fell asleep on the couch after one of their nightly strolls with Malleus, and Maleficent draped a blanket over Yuu to keep them warm. Another is if Yuu is getting harassed by one of NRC’s bullies, one of the 7 pulls some horror movie shit and breaks the lights or starts throwing things: that or one of Maleficent's iconic storms.
Adding to what I said earlier about them acting, the idea of Great 7! Yuu snapping is terrifying. Even if they don't use magic or attack someone, it's still scary seeing that. The calm and collected persona falling, and you get to see their genuine emotions? Terrifying.
Just your average, cute, little “magicless” human acting all prim and proper, then displaying magical prowess that could surpass Malleus.
If I were those side character students, I’d leave, tbh.
┉ˏ͛ ༝̩̩̥͙ ⑅͚˚   ҉  ⑅͚˚ ͛༝̩̩̥͙ ˎ┉
Also, since you asked me to tag you, @twisted-wonderland-but-gayer 🥲
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loquaciousscribe · 6 months ago
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May I request ummm… Byakuya, Kokichi, Nagito, and Junko with Ultimate Spirit! Reader? Reader who is some sort of an entity ghost that play tricks on people and haunts them.
should i even bother trying to list all these names in a title..
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BYAKUYA TOGAMI
he hates how pesky you are
no matter what he does he can't quite get rid of you and your foolish shenanigans
you're always just THERE. and it's not like he can just lock you out because you can just faze through the walls and doors and EVERY OTHER BARIER HE COULD POSSIBLY PUT UP
you genuinely drive him mad
he can always sense when your near, it's like a super power
..probably because you do it so often(you can't help it!! he gives the best reactions!)
if you REALLY wanna fuck with him, leave him alone for a while
he'll genuinely look schizophrenic
NAGITO KOMAEDA
it's pretty hard to kill you because... you're sort of dead kinda. which is great because it's hard for his luck to hurt you too too badly! which is good for him probably
he'd put up with really basically anything you do because of your status as ultimate
he's pretty indifferent about your pranks if they're played on him
if he finds out your haunting him he would say that 'you shouldn't wast your time haunting such worthless trash like me' ...which is no fun
he's hard to startle, but if you do startle him he would just flinch and be all like 'ah, you startled me' and probably end up ranting about hope and whatnot, so you end up just going away(probably)
KOKICHI OUMA
y'all are partners in crime
he uses you to help him get information(either through bribery OR you just do it willingly to cause mischief)
he practically begs you to tell him dirt on everyone
he would scheme pranks with you
if you haunted him he wouldn't really realize you were even there till you scared him.. but obviously he's gonna lie and say he knew all along
when y'all are together nobody is safe
JUNKO ENOSHIMA
she absolutely LIVES for the despair you being a spirit gives her(and you).
you're dead [vine boom] she can't touch you [vine boom] you can't touch her [vine boom] lots of limitations that she hates(which is good!!)
your like a challenge to her too, sharpening her manipulation skills
she would ask you really intrusive personal questions like about what it was like to die(if you did) mostly just to see you squirm if anything,, but she frames it as curiosity
she pushes your mischief into boarderline evil territory(and eventually actually evil..)
she would also use you to get information about people, similar to kokichi
junko is very love bomb-y with you(shocker)
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this one isn't really explicitly romantic? so i'm sorry if thats what you meant
it was super fun to write tho!!
@somberauthor IT"S GRIND O'CLOCK GET ON THAT GRIND!!!1!1!!
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jesterwriting · 1 year ago
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scenario: stuck in a timeloop and the only way to restart is to die
pairing: sanji x reader, law x reader, ace x reader (separate)
contents: hurt/comfort, angst, gore, im serious about the gore tw, graphic description of death, post traumatic symptoms, maybe a touch of survivors guilt, breakdowns, time loops, if youve seen rezero you know whats up
word count: 1.6k words
note: okay if theres one thing i love, its angst and hurt comfort, and if there’s one thing i do when i write it, i go crazy with it. my hands were genuinely shaking while i wrote this. hope you enjoy! [evil laughter]
playlist: eleanor by cake bake betty
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No matter how many times you died, you couldn’t help but scream when you woke up again. You lost count how many times it happened, and it wasn’t like there was any point in keeping count besides depressing yourself with your numerous failures. This was your power; horrible and nowhere near worth the cost of losing your ability to swim. With every death, you would restart back at a random checkpoint, beginning anew, able to change the way the timeline went. All it took was to die, and lord above, did you die. Sometimes it was quick, other times it was an agony that would haunt you for many loops after.
Your power left you lonely. Friendships you made in one timeline, didn’t exist in others. You remembered when you were young and greeted a friend from a past loop with a hug. Of course, they didn’t know who you were. They no longer remembered the adventures you experienced or the trials you endured, only you held those memories now. They pushed you away with a look of distress, and you cried for hours after that, burdened with the knowledge that whatever friendship you had before, was gone forever now.
You isolated yourself after that.
It wasn’t until recently that you found yourself with a crew, though no one knew of your ability. You hated talking about it, hated reliving each death again and again. Every time you felt strong enough to speak about it, you always ended up dying and resetting everything back to the status quo. You were surrounded by friends, but so completely, and utterly alone. It was a worm in your gut, chewing on you from within and tearing you apart.
Now, here you were. Dying again.
Failing again.
Your eye spasmed in your skull, the other nothing more than jelly in your socket. The taste of iron pooled in your mouth as you hunched over, organs squirming like maggots from the wound on your abdomen. Sobs wracked your body. With shaking hands, you scooped your entrails into the crook of your arm in hopes that you could put them back inside of you. They were slimy and warm, and you were reminded of eels, or perhaps hagfish.
Everything hurt. You were so afraid, you couldn’t breathe. There was a loud bang and a heavy pressure on your chest. Or maybe, your inability to catch your breath stemmed from the bullet that had pierced through your ribcage and into your lungs. When did that happen? You didn’t know, you didn’t care, all you knew was that you didn’t want to die.
Of course, you didn’t get a say in the matter. Before you knew it, your muscles were going slack and your body was crumpling to the ground. Blood poured from between your lips as your tongue wagged numbly in your mouth. If you weren’t careful, you might bite it off. It had happened before, and you died drowning in your own blood rather than to the slow drain of your wounds. Maybe, if you were lucky, you could have been saved then.
Not now, though. Your guts were supposed to be inside you, not spewed and steaming on the ground.
And, just like that, it was over.
You awoke in bed and screamed. With gasping breaths, your hands frantically felt the intact skin of your belly, and your bulletless chest. Though you were safe, the ghost of your pain lingered like a knife against your back. Sobs tore from your throat as you curled in on yourself.
It had been a long time since a death this bad. So lost in your own misery — again, again, it happened again, why won’t it stop? — you didn’t hear the door open until it was too late.
“Black Leg” Sanji
Sanji was across the room, scooping you into his arms before you were able to blink. You gasped and squirmed slightly as he rubbed your back. A part of you was still there, bleeding out on the ground, and your heart wouldn’t stop hammering wildly in your chest, even as Sanji murmured sweet nothings into your ear. Phantom pain gripped you, and your stomach clenched when you remembered just how slimy your insides were as you tried to put them back where they belonged.
“I’m here, love, I’m here.”
That only made you cry more. Your breath hitched as you gripped the back of his dress shirt in your fist and buried your face into the crook of his neck. You were hyperventilating, afraid that the bullet in your chest followed you into this loop, threatening to drag you under again. You died in Sanji’s arms once before, and the terror on his face had etched itself into your brain forever. It couldn’t happen again, you would drag yourself away to die alone under a rock if you could help it.
Sanji’s hand shook as he stroked your hair. “What happened? Tell me what’s wrong.”
Finally, you caught your breath and wiped the tears from your face. With a watery smile, one you were sure was nowhere near as convincing as you wanted if Sanji’s worried expression was anything to go by.
“I had a nightmare,” You said.
If Sanji knew you were lying, he didn’t say anything. He only held you while you desperately pretended that you had stopped trembling.
Trafalgar Law
Law was the last person who you wanted to see like this. He carried too much already. You were sure that he would crumble if he knew the weight you had been carrying right under his nose. Frantic, you pawed at your face to remove the evidence of your breakdown as if he hadn’t heard you screaming moments before.
“Hey,” He said softly, crouching beside you to gently grab you by the shoulders. Law squeezed, and you took a shaky breath and remembered where you were. You weren’t dying alone in the middle of nowhere, you were on the Polar Tang, with Law, somewhere on the Grand Line.
You sniffled and cracked a small smile. “Hey.”
Unwanted visions of your previous death assaulted you from behind your eyes. A sharp gasp tore from your throat as your arms snaked around your middle to hold your organs inside. It still hurt, why did it still hurt? You were safe now, it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair.
Gently, Law pried your arms from your abdomen and pulled up your shirt to inspect it. “I don’t see any external injuries…”
You watched the possibility of an internal injury flit across his face. Before the word ‘room’ left his lips, you shook your head and choked on another sob.
“I had a dream I died,” You admitted the half truth with the sour taste of bile on your tongue.
Law’s brows knit and he let out a small, “Ah.”
Awkward, not yet used to the affection you bestowed upon him so readily, he wrapped his long arms around you with a small pat on your back. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“If I died, you need to know I would never blame you.” It came out of nowhere, but it was the only thing you could think to say. The truth was, you would blame yourself, you had a lot of experience doing that, though you thought better of saying that aloud.
Law didn’t say anything in response, his thumb rubbing gentle circles between your shoulder blades.
Portgas D. Ace
“What happened? Why are you crying?” Ace was talking before he even reached you, pulling you against his bare chest before you even had a chance to realize he was here. His scent filled your nose, filled your head, until you were hysterical and pulling him as close as possible.
“Was someone here? Did someone hurt you?” With his righteous anger, his body temperature rose as harmless flames licked your fingers. All you could do was cry, so captivated with the man in front of you, your death was all but forgotten.
“No, no, I’m okay.” You pulled back to study his face, your own stained with snot and tears. He practically glowed in the moonlight that streamed through your window. Even at night, Ace shone like the sun. Your clumsy hands found his freckles, sweeping across the bridge of his nose and down his cheeks to his lips. Flesh and bone, alive and whole. You sobbed harder, low keening whines ripping from your throat before you could stop them.
“Had- Had a dream you were gone.”
Ace pulled you tighter against him. “Oh, babe, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”
With your fingers tangled in his hair, Ace rocked you back and forth, hushing you softly while you wished to tear open your ribcage and keep him safe inside your body forever. The only way to get to him would be to rip you apart, and even then, you would come back again, stronger than ever. No one would be able to take him from you. You had died too many times to count, faced pain time and time again, there was no torture you wouldn’t endure if it meant you wouldn’t lose your sun.
How many loops had it been? How many times have you had to watch Ace die?
You’d save him this time, you would make sure of it.
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vetitiscripta · 1 year ago
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i wanna see ren grow horrified when he realizes mc only follows instruction because theyre literally being controlled by strade. i want to see him question it all and maybe even lose it a bit when he realizes mc hadn't acted alone. and most of the violence had been the same man he'd let bleed out that day on the ground. i want to see how bad that takes a toll on his mind.
anon your mind. mentally kissing you on the mouth anon
for those who missed it- this is regarding my ghost strade au
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for this au, i like to think that strade can really only interact/“control” mc in certain moments, probably something like due to strong emotions (take that as you will 😏) or whatever
but god!! ren thinking that mc genuinely wants to do this type of stuff or hang out with him of their own free will only to find out its all because of strade. he would start thinking about everything that has happened and would wonder if any of it was genuine
he’d think about the time he found you late at night on the couch, watching one of strade’s old snuff films. he thought that you had finally understood, had come to appreciate the beauty of it all like he had. he cuddled with you on the couch as you put on another one on. (you had woken up that night in a cold sweat, an intense urge to watch one. strade stood in the corner of your room just watching you, smile on his face every time you looked at him. you tried to ignore the urge, ignore him, but it eventually wore you down. you trudged down the stairs and stood in front of the dvds, letting strade pick the one he wanted. you watched 3 films before ren found you, your tears already dried)
he’d remember the time you willingly slept in the same bed with him for the first time. it was late at night and he was trying to find an anime to watch when you softly knocked on his door. when he opened the door you were basically shaking, eyes darting around. “can i sleep with you tonight?” ren was over the moon when you asked, basically had hearts in his eyes (he’s down bad don’t make fun of him). he thinks you’ve come around, you finally see that you love him like he loves you. he happily welcomes you in his bed, arms wrapped around you so tight you fear he may snap you in half, anime playing in the background as you both fall asleep. (strade wouldn’t leave you alone that day. he was constantly around you, pestering you. sometimes he would just hover over your shoulder, watching your every movement, other times he would be telling you stories, the things he did and how he did them. every waking moment was spent with strade, you were so tired. you were happy when it was finally night and you could sleep. but then you felt the bed dip and felt hands on your legs, slowing inching their way up. you shot out of bed faster than ever and made your way to ren’s room. swallowing your pride for the night would be better than dealing with strade for another 5 minutes)
the encounter with lawrence was a staple in your relationship, you two were brought together since then (he believed) and he was so happy with you, he knows that he you were meant to be his
the day you tell him everything, he seems to crumble. he’s frozen as you tell him everything, fear on his face. he wanted to believe it was a joke, a bad joke that he could punish you for but you knew too much for it to be a coincidental joke. you were crying at the end of it, overwhelmed by everything that had been going on, and ren felt close to tears himself
he thought he was done with strade. sure his body is in the basement freezer, but he was no longer controlled by him, strade had no power over him anymore. (he might be lying to himself on that, he tries to be what strade was, tries to fill the empty feeling he got when he watched strade die)
and now you’re telling him that strade is still here just as a ghost? that strade was watching everything? that strade still had control?
i think that ren would try to regain control, would try to show that strade might still be around, but he is in charge now. he’d shock you before you can comprehend what he’s doing and you would wake up in the basement, tied to the pole. ren stood over you, knife in hand. strade stood just behind him, biggest smile you have ever seen on his face. you focused back on ren as he crouched down, “is he here?” you looked back up at strade before nodding. “good” a glint of metal caught your eye as ren brought the knife to your skin
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ambigiousorganfailure · 1 month ago
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i swore my next post would be a continuation of the previous about adler/bell and harrow/case parallels. but i have thoughts rattling away.
bell’s faded, half-baked image of adler and his memories, what makes him as a person, and the fact their cover was as his protégé strikes a cord in me. it isn’t just that they’re comprised entirely of adler’s thoughts and ideas, but the fact that they were suppose to be a successor to him. they’re supposed to surpass him in the ways he’s failed-his aloofness and emphasis on authority creating a vacuum for human connection, to genuine human trust, that gut-wrenching level of manipulation and power. his brute force, persona, and implied penchant for violence being a downfall for any advantageous long-term relationships that he could use.
and i just get a sick kick out of thinking of classical “bell didn’t really die at solovetsky” and adler being haunted by this piece of him he’s killed, marred, destroyed by his own hand that has left such a large hole in him he can’t even lie about how he feels, he can’t even say anything at all, all cottonmouth and overwhelmed by that foreign swell in his chest that he doesn’t recognize (regret? guilt? affection, even?) haunted by it, them, for the last decade.
and here comes bell, wandering in, a ghost once fizzled in his vision and dreams now upright and full of life. and what’s a kick to the stomach, a real “fuck you” to the person who made them out of his own marrow and memory, is that they’re better. their facade of concern, apathy, anger, all these fronts to worm their way into damn whoever they please comes so naturally, a simple coin flip and it’s done. their methods are precise, subtly, stealthy in a way he isn’t. it seems their awareness is tenfold, always noticing the way adler seems to fidget with his lighter or how he keeps turning his head ever-so-slightly to their direction. the piece off of his chopping block, his shadow, made better. a greater strategist and soldier than he ever thought they would be, seemingly fine without him, not needing the one person who has been yearning for them for what feels to be an eternity.
(but bell can only hide so well, even if they’re snarling teeth at him, always trying to stay on opposite sides of the room, because there’s always going to be a pull, magnetic-“i know you, better than anyone else could or can, better than anyone you’ll ever let in. and you get me in the same way i just can’t shake.” it hurts, in those private moments, because bell still yearns for the other half they’ve tried so hard to reject, that their body twists and turns for in the night in hopes of someone to comfort them, someone who knows them. left hand and right hand, severed, always trying to find each other even if they don’t know it, aren’t willing to ever say it.)
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moongreenlight · 11 months ago
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WIP WEDNESDAY!!
A little 600-ish word snippet of a toxic ex-boyfriend!ghost x reader fic I've been letting collect dust.
Maybe he found out you’re on dating apps (or maybe he’s had your phone tapped) and he’s been texting you about how moronic it would be for you to start dating again. You’ve been able to ignore it for the most part.
But tonight now that you’re out with some guy whose invite you really only accepted to prove a point, your phone will not stop buzzing. You left it in your coat pocket, but even though it’s slung over the back of your chair, it’s all you can think about. It drags your attention away from your date who’s talking about all of nothing.
So you try to fish it out of your coat and set it on your lap so you can silence it and salvage an already bleak situation. It doesn’t work.
There’s texts and phone calls and voicemails coming through even though you swore you turned it all the way off. To a point where you start to get a little worried that maybe it’s a legitimate emergency?
So you excuse yourself just for a second to take a call out the front.
“What the fuck is your problem?”
You don’t bother even attempting to be cordial. Hissing like the words would sear your mouth if you didn’t spit them out right then.
“Go home.”
He is exceptionally good at matching your tone. You’d worry he was mocking you if you couldn’t so clearly recognize the venom laced in his words.
You hesitate for a moment. Trying to weigh the pros and cons of getting into some sort of bitching match with him. But then ultimately decide to hang up.
Immediately another call pops up. Faster than you think should be possible. You decline and move to go inside, but still another incoming call lights up your screen.
You pick up just to get him to stop.
“Seriously, Simon, sod off.”
“I’ll put him through that fuckin’ table if he puts a hand on you again. Go home. Leave him the-“
You hang up again before he can finish. Fuming. Exercising what little self control you have in you not to tear into him. Powering your phone down completely and shoving it hard into the bottom of your coat pocket.
You go back to the table. Keeping your head on a swivel all the way in. More angry than unnerved, but unnerved nonetheless. You don’t see Simon. You don’t expect to even if he was there.
You get fifteen minutes with your date until he takes your hand from across the table. It makes you tense up. Accidentally dig your nails into the tablecloth. Smile tightly and try to hide the way your eyes dart around at the other patrons. There’s nobody even looking in your direction. You let out a breath you hadn’t meant to hold.
Another five minutes pass until your date gets out his phone to show you a picture of his motorcycle. His words die mid-sentence and he goes white as a sheet when he looks at the screen.
“Everything okay?”
It’s mildly genuine concern. Not that you cared to see what he was going to show you, just at his reaction.
“Yeah. No- yeah. Give me- give me just a second. I’ll be right back.”
He doesn’t look up from his phone when he talks. He stumbles up. His chair screeches its protest at being so unceremoniously pushed backward.
You twist in your seat and watch him half-jog out the front. He knocks into two tables on his way out, nose still inches from the screen. You don’t know what else to do but push around the half-eaten pasta left on your plate while you wait for him to come back in.
“Hang up that phone on me again n’ see f’I can stay this polite.”
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mononijikayu · 5 months ago
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“dear theodosia” — gojo satoru.
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"I'll be here," he murmured, his voice trembling with emotion. "I won't let you become a story. I'll fight with everything I have to be here, to see you grow, to love you." “Satoru, you’ll live a long and happy life with us, with me,” you said, looking at him tenderly. Worry echoed in your eyes, though. “You and I, we will grow old together. And die on the same day with our grandchildren and great-grandchildren around us.”
GENRE: post hidden - inventory arc (2010s)
WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, family, comfort, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, mention of pregnancy, mention of breastfeeding, mention of postpartum effects, depiction of the aftermath of birth, depiction of parenthood, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;
WORDS: 4.6k words
LISTEN: dear theodosia by lin manuel miranda and leslie odom jr.
NOTE: prepared to be sick of me because this entire time, you'll only be getting musical themed song inspired stuff because the songs have gotten back to me and kicked me into the nostalgia of musicals. anyway, this was so cute to me. i love dad-satoru so much. i hope i can write more of him. enjoy this a lot guys, i love you~ <3
masterlist
u s and t h e m
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spoilers about shinjuku showdown
GOJO SATORU THINKS HE WAS NEVER BUILT FOR DOMESTIC LIFE. When he was younger, he thought he would live a life of solitary proportions. Sure, the elders would have pushed him to marry one way or another and force him to start a family. But he knew his heart wouldn’t have been in it. He knew that nothing in him would be genuine. And he didn’t want that. If he was being honest, his greatest fear was the lonesomeness that comes with his birth. His power had promised him the world. He knew from the moment he could think that he would not be a man among humanity — no, he would be a god. But it was quite clear that being on top is lonely, being a god is lonely, and he hated it.
He never thought that both of you would end up being together. Let alone that he would willingly settle down with anyone. You never truly seemed to be someone that loved that idea — you were still reeling from heartbreak. And him? He was left behind by the person he thought was his shadow, shattered with nothing. It wasn’t ideal, but he thought that you understood. He thought that you both had enough broken pieces between the two of you to be whole again. That if misery was an enemy, then the two of you would win. He was willing to bet on that.
And so, he took the gamble. He opened up, letting you see the cracks and scars that he had hidden for so long. He exposed his vulnerabilities, hoping you would do the same. It was a tentative beginning, filled with uncertainty and hesitation, but gradually, you both found solace in each other’s presence. 
The nights were the hardest, haunted by the ghosts of past loves and lost dreams. Yet, somehow, those shared moments of silence, the comfort of a warm hand, and the whispered confessions in the dark, made the loneliness bearable. You both learned to navigate the labyrinth of each other’s fears and insecurities, finding strength in the shared understanding that neither of you was alone anymore.
He was surprised by how naturally the pieces fell into place. Your laughter became a balm for his weary soul, and your touch grounded him in a way he never thought possible. Slowly, he started to see a future he had never dared to dream of – a future where he wasn’t isolated at the pinnacle of power, but rather, standing beside you, sharing the burdens and the joys.
He realized that the life he once dreaded, a life intertwined with another’s, was not a cage, but a liberation. The family he had feared would be forced upon him became a chosen haven of love and understanding. The heart he thought was too shattered to feel again began to beat with a new, hopeful rhythm.
In you, he found not just a partner, but a kindred spirit, someone who had been forged in the same fires of pain and loss. Together, you built something beautiful from the ruins, proving that even gods could find grace in the embrace of another’s love. And in that love, he discovered that being on top didn’t have to mean being alone. Instead, it meant having someone to share the view, someone to hold his hand as they looked down at the world together.
Gojo Satoru looked at you now, watching your sleeping form. It had only been a few days since he was released from the prison realm. Throughout that time, he couldn’t help but think about you. Thinking about how you were waiting for him. How your son was going to be waiting for his father to come home. Megumi, Tsumiki, his beloved students. They were all waiting for him. But when he saw you, he didn’t know what came over him. He rushed to you, and your arms opened wide. Just for him.
Time didn’t pass in the prison realm — but for you it did. He could see it. How tired you were. How all of this grief and pain, and suffering had cost you dearly. Your tears felt hot against his shoulders, your cries of relief bellowing through his entire body. He could feel it all; he could never forget it. Even now, he couldn’t. In all of your marriage, he had cost you dearly. You had sacrificed a lot of your life trying to help him achieve his dream for the Jujutsu world. You stood by him no matter what. You made a home for him anywhere and everywhere. You gave him everything.
As he watched you sleep, he marveled at your resilience. The lines on your face told stories of battles fought and won, of nights spent waiting and worrying, of unwavering love and dedication. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch light, as if afraid to wake you from your well-deserved rest. 
In that quiet moment, he made a silent vow. He promised himself that he would make up for all the time lost, for all the pain and sacrifices you endured. He would be the husband and father you deserved, the man who stood beside you as an equal, not just a protector. The burden of his power and his duties had always weighed heavily on him, but he realized now that he didn’t have to carry it alone.
You stirred slightly, a soft sigh escaping your lips, and his heart swelled with an overwhelming love and gratitude. The world outside was filled with uncertainties and dangers, but here, in this moment, everything felt right. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, a promise of better days to come.
“I’m home,” he whispered, his voice barely audible but filled with conviction. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he allowed himself to hope. Hope for a future where the weight of his responsibilities didn’t overshadow the simple joys of life. A future where he could see his son grow up, where he could laugh with his family, where he could find solace in your embrace every night. And with that hope, he drifted into a peaceful sleep beside you, ready to face whatever came next with you by his side.
He couldn’t believe it. How content you had made him — how happy you had made him. And now, he thought you had made him even happier. Even with all that had come to pass, he didn’t think it was a bad thing. He could feel it when he looked at you with his Six Eyes. You probably hadn’t been able to find yourself, being so busy holding everything together in his absence. Yet he could feel it. He could feel the life you had created bubbling in your belly. He could feel it echo with the essence of him and you.
A smile crept onto his face as he gently placed his hand on your stomach, feeling the faint flutter of new life beneath his fingertips. It was as if the universe had given him a second chance, a chance to be there for you and the new life you were bringing into the world. This tiny, growing miracle was a testament to your strength and resilience, a symbol of hope and renewal.
He marveled at the thought of another child, another chance to build a family filled with love and warmth. The future, which had once seemed so bleak and uncertain, now held promise and joy. He thought of your son, soon to be a big brother, and how they would grow up together, surrounded by the love and support of their parents and siblings.
Satoru's heart swelled with gratitude and love as he kissed your belly softly, whispering words of promise to the life growing within you. "I'm here, little baby." he murmured, his voice tender and filled with conviction. "I'll always be here for you, for all of us."
Satoru then held your belly, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your skin. You stirred slightly, a sleepy smile tugging at your lips as you murmured groggily, "That tickles."
He chuckled softly, his laughter like a soothing balm. "Sorry," he whispered, not really meaning it but enjoying the sound of your sleepy voice.
You sighed contentedly, your eyes half-opening to meet him. "Do you know?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief and affection. "That you’re pregnant again? I can see the baby growing."
You laughed softly, the sound filling the quiet room. "You didn't see Satoshi last time, you know." you teased.
Satoru pouted playfully, his expression a mix of mock offense and genuine amusement. Even with just the moonlight, his childishness can be seen so clearly too. "Satoshi was already too strong as a baby," he defended himself. "He concealed his presence from his papa."
You giggled, reaching up to touch his cheek. "He is his father's son, after all."
He leaned into your touch, his eyes softening with love. "I guess he is," he admitted, a hint of pride in his voice. "But this time, I won't miss a thing. I'll be here, every step of the way."
You smiled, feeling a wave of warmth and gratitude wash over you. "I know you will, Satoru." you said softly, your heart swelling with love for the man beside you. “You’ve never failed at that before.”
Satoru's hand remained on your belly, his tone blossoming with so much love. "I can't wait to meet our new little one." he whispered, his voice filled with awe and anticipation. “I’ve always wanted to have a big family.”
“I know.” You whispered to him, taking his other hand and holding it close with your own. “You’ve talked about it before.”
“But it was just hard…..with everything.” He hums, laying his back against the bed frame. “Now it’s going to be even harder — everyone knows about Satoshi now. And now….”
You shake your head at him. “We will be fine. As we always have been. It will be okay, Satoru. You will save Megumi, the kids. You will do us proud. And we’ll finally get our happily ever after.”
Silence engulfed Satoru for a moment. He kept thinking about his own father. His father had died when he was too young, so he didn’t remember anything about him. But he heard stories. He was a rough man to all, but his mother remembered him differently. And so she had a different story to tell.
Gojo Satoru didn’t want to voice it out loud, but he was worried. He worried that, just like his father, he would be a story to his child. That he would be nothing but a forgotten memory. He wanted to be there. He wanted to be someone who loved his child. He wanted his child to know him as Satoshi did. But he didn’t know what would happen now. He still had to face Sukuna and Kenjaku. And it wasn't that he lacked confidence, but he worried still. He worried, and it hurt him. He felt his heart be heavy about this, more than ever.
As he stared at your loving face, the weight of his fears pressed down on him. The thought of leaving you and his children behind, of becoming just another story, filled him with a deep, aching sorrow. He wanted to be more than a legend or a distant memory; he wanted to be a father, a husband, a man who was present and involved in the lives of those he loved.
His hand tightened slightly on your belly, as if trying to anchor himself to the present moment, to the promise of the future growing inside you. He leaned down, pressing his forehead gently against your stomach, closing his eyes as he whispered a silent vow to himself and to his unborn child.
"I'll be here," he murmured, his voice trembling with emotion. "I won't let you become a story. I'll fight with everything I have to be here, to see you grow, to love you."
“Satoru, you’ll live a long and happy life with us, with me,” you said, looking at him tenderly. Worry echoed in your eyes, though. “You and I, we will grow old together. And die on the same day with our grandchildren and great-grandchildren around us.”
He looked into your eyes, seeing the determination and love there, and felt a warmth spread through his chest. Your unwavering belief in their future together eased some of his fears, but the worry in your eyes mirrored his own. He didn’t want you to worry, he doesn’t like it. Not especially in your condition. But he thinks that you can’t help it. You love him. And loving him will always have its worst. Love after all is a curse among men.
"I want that," he whispered, his hand caressing your cheek. "I want to grow old with you, to see our children grow up, to be surrounded by family. I want to be there for all of it."
He lifted his head, meeting your concerned gaze. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice thick with unspoken fears. "I just... I want to be here. For you, for Satoshi, for our new baby. I don’t want to be just a memory."
You cupped his face, your eyes searching for him. "You won't be." you assured him, your voice filled with unwavering confidence. "We'll face whatever comes together. You're not alone in all of this, my love.”
Satoru nodded, swallowing hard as he tried to push past the lump in his throat. Your words, your presence, gave him strength. He knew the battles ahead would be daunting, but he also knew he had something worth fighting for, something worth living for. You, Satoshi, this babe, Megumi, his beloved students, his adored friends — you were worth living for. You were worth returning from hell from.
"I love you, darling." he whispered, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your lips. "And I promise, I'll do everything I can to stay with you. To be the father our children deserve."
Your fingers caressed his cheek, your smile a beacon of hope and reassurance. "And we love He smiled, his eyes shimmering with affection. “I know. I love you too.”
You grinned at him and leaned toward him, your lips pressing against his. "And I can't wait to see you as a papa again," you replied, your voice filled with equal parts excitement and tenderness. “You’ll be so beloved by this babe, Satoru. And I know you’ll love our child so much too.”
“I already love them,” he whispered, his smile the epitome of joy itself. “I can imagine it already. They’re moving so powerfully in your belly. I’m pretty sure they’re going to blow us all away.”
You laughed, the sound bright and full of hope. “Can you imagine, Yaga teaching this kid the way Gakuganji has taught me?”
Satoru chuckled, the thought filling him with a mix of amusement and anticipation. "Oh, that would be something to see. Another little powerhouse in the making. But you know, with our combined stubbornness and spirit, I think we’re going to have our hands full.”
"Definitely," you agreed, your eyes sparkling with joy. "But we'll manage. We always do."
He nodded, his heart swelling with love and gratitude. "Yeah, we will. Together."
"You will be," you replied firmly, your hand covering his. "We'll make it through this, Satoru. Together. We'll have the future we've always dreamed of."
He leaned in, resting his forehead against yours, drawing strength from your presence. "Thank you," he whispered. "For believing in me, in us. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"You'll never have to find out," you promised, your voice soft but resolute. "Because we're in this together, always. For better or for worse.”
Before Satoru could respond, the door to your bedroom creaked open, the sound slicing through the quiet of the night. A small figure shuffled inside, barely visible in the dim light filtering through the curtains. It was young Gojo Satoshi, his small form barely reaching the edge of the bed. He looked distressed, your little boy. Satoru’s eyes softened at the sight of your darling boy.
Clutching his favorite stuffed animal tightly to his chest, he paused at the foot of the bed, uncertainty etched on his face. You and Satoru turned towards him simultaneously, your hearts melting at the sight of your son standing there, his eyes wide and teary. His pajamas were rumpled, his hair tousled from sleep, and it was evident that something had unsettled him deeply.
"Mama, Papa," Satoshi whispered, his voice barely audible above the soft hum of the room. He took a hesitant step closer, seeking comfort in the warmth of his parents' presence.
Satoru's heart clenched with concern as he reached out a comforting hand towards Satoshi. "Come here, Satoshi." he said gently, his voice a soothing murmur. "What's wrong, my little dawn?"
Satoshi hesitated for a moment, his lower lip trembling as he struggled to find the words to articulate his fear. "I... I had a nightmare," he finally managed to say, his voice wavering with emotion. "There was a big monster... and I couldn't find you and Papa."
You exchanged a knowing glance with Satoru, silently communicating your shared concern for your son's well-being. Without a second thought, Gojo Satoru lifted the covers, creating a welcoming space between the two of you. "It's okay, dearest dawn." he reassured, his voice soft but firm. "You're safe now. Come, lie down with us."
Satoshi blinked back tears, relief flooding his features as he scrambled onto the bed. He nestled himself between you and Satoru, his small body seeking solace in the warmth and familiarity of his parents. Satoru wrapped an arm protectively around him, pulling him close, while you gently smoothed his hair, offering some tender comfort that could never be echoed in words.
"What was the monster like, Satoshi?" you asked softly, your voice a gentle lullaby in the quiet of the room.
Satoshi took a deep breath, his eyes still wide with lingering fear. "It was... big and scary," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I... I wasn’t strong enough, mama. It was too much!”
Satoru's heart twisted with empathy as he listened to his son's words. He tightened his hold around Satoshi, his voice filled with reassurance. "Monsters aren't real, my dearest boy." he said firmly, brushing a gentle kiss on his forehead. "But even if they were, I would never let anything harm you. Papa will always protect you."
Satoshi looked up at Satoru, his eyes searching his father's face for any sign of doubt. Finding none, he nodded slowly, a flicker of relief passing over his features. "Really, Papa?"
"Really," Satoru affirmed, his voice steady and unwavering. "You're safe with us, always."
You leaned over, pressing a kiss to Satoshi's cheek. "We love you so much, sweetheart," you murmured, your voice filled with tenderness. "You're our brave little boy."
Satoshi's shoulders relaxed, the tension melting away as he nestled deeper into the embrace of his parents. "I love you too, Mama and Papa," he whispered, his eyes growing heavy with exhaustion.
"We love you more than anything." Satoru and you said in unison, their voices a gentle promise of unconditional love.
As your son Satoshi drifted off to sleep, his breathing slowing into the steady rhythm of peace, you and Satoru exchanged a soft smile. In that quiet moment, surrounded by the warmth and love of your family, you knew that together, you could weather any storm. And as the night wrapped it's comforting arms around you, you held onto each other, cherishing the precious bond that bound your hearts together.
Gojo Satoru was happiest here, he knew.
Whatever gods there are, he thanks them now.
For you and his children, will be his dearest treasures.
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epilogue
In the days that followed Gojo Satoshi’s night of nightmares, life settled into a gentle rhythm once more. The worry that had momentarily clouded Satoru’s heart lifted as he watched his son regain his usual spark, chasing after Tsumiki's cat or eagerly helping with simple tasks around the house.
One evening, with the leaves dancing in the breeze outside, you and Satoru decided it was time to share some exciting news with Satoshi. The three of you gathered in the cozy living room, nestled together on the couch as the fire crackled softly in the hearth.
“Satoshi,” you began, your voice warm with anticipation. “Your papa and I have something special to tell you.”
Satoshi looked up from his coloring book, his curiosity piqued. “What is it, Mama?”
Satoru took a deep breath, a smile spreading across his face as he exchanged a meaningful glance with you. “You’re going to be an elder brother, my dearest dawn!” he announced, his voice tinged with joy.
Satoshi blinked, processing the words for a moment before his face lit up in realization. “Wait... really?” he exclaimed, his eyes widening with excitement.
You nodded, your heart swelling with happiness as you watched your son’s reaction. “Yes, really, little one.” you confirmed, reaching out to ruffle his hair affectionately. “You’re going to have a little brother or sister.”
Satoru thinks that your son will always be the morning sun.His name is just perfect. He was truly the dawn that made your lives ever so beautiful. It’s the way his smile will make him undone, it will always make him feel like the world is bigger than it actually was. When Satoshi was born, all he could think about was that he filled what was empty in Gojo Satoru’s life. And that will never change. Not even if there is a new little one coming along.
Satoru worried about telling Satoshi, because in these past four, five years — he was the only son. He had gotten doted upon as a little lordling, the only dawn in his parent’s lives. But Satoru feels glad that your son was happy. That Satoshi already loves his little sibling as much as Satoru loves this little baby in your belly already.
Satoshi’s eyes darted between you and Satoru, a thousand questions bubbling up within him. “When will the baby come?” he asked eagerly. “Will the baby be able to play with me?”
“In a few months, little dawn.” Satoru replied, his voice filled with tenderness. “But you’ll have to wait until the baby’s a bit older and stronger to play with them, hm?”
“It’s okay!” Satoshi beams tenderly. “I can wait. I’ll take care of the baby and make sure that they’ll grow up strong!”
 “You’ll be the best big brother, Satoshi. We know it.” You smiled at your son, kissing the edge of his brow. “You’re already so kind to them.”
Satoshi beamed with pride, a sense of responsibility settling over him as he realized the importance of his new role. You think that you were truly blessed — to have such an endearing little boy who wants to do nothing but good. Who wants to love as much as he can. Who wants to be as kind as he could. You could see all the good, the wonder, the beauty of your husband in your little boy. And you hope that he will grow up to be just like his father. 
“I can’t wait!” he declared, his excitement contagious. “I can’t wait to be a big brother!”
You and Satoru exchanged a glance, delighted by Satoshi's enthusiasm. The room seemed to glow with warmth and anticipation, the air buzzing with the promise of new beginnings. As Satoshi's excitement bubbled over, he jumped up from the couch and threw his arms around both of you in a tight hug, his little face radiant with joy. 
“I’ll be the best big brother out there, mama, papa! I swear!”
"You will, my little dawn," you said, squeezing him gently. "And you're going to be amazing at it."
Satoru chuckled warmly, ruffling Satoshi's hair affectionately. "What mama said is correct! You're going to be the best big brother this baby could ask for."
Satoshi grinned from ear to ear, his imagination already racing with thoughts of teaching his new sibling all the things he loved. "I'll teach them how to play jujutsu and how to be brave like Papa! I’m going to be as good as Megumi–oniichan!”
The mention of Megumi was a bit gut-wrenching. Satoru’s eyes dimmed a little, a flicker of sadness passing through them, but he continued to smile, his expression gentle yet tinged with longing. You noticed the shift in his demeanor and pursed your lips, feeling a pang of empathy for the ache he carried.
You could only hope that you and Satoru would be good enough. Good enough to create a home where Megumi would feel welcomed back, where he could find solace and warmth after all he had been through. You hoped that soon enough, Megumi would be by your side again, sharing in the joys and challenges of raising this new baby alongside you both.
Satoru glanced at you, sensing your thoughts, and reached out to gently squeeze your hand, offering silent reassurance and solidarity. He shared your hopes, your dreams of a future where their family would be whole once more. You take his hand and kiss the edge of his hand.
"I want Megumi to be a part of this too," Satoru murmured softly, his voice filled with determination. "I want him to see how much love we have to give, to watch this baby grow as he watched Satoshi grow."
You nodded, feeling a surge of determination and love for the family you were building together. "We'll make it happen," you replied firmly, your voice tinged with quiet resolve. "We'll create a home where Megumi knows he's always welcomed, always loved."
That night was filled with the tender innocence of childhood dreams and the quiet anticipation of parenthood. After tucking Satoshi into bed, his eyes bright with excitement for the sibling yet to come, you and Satoru stood together in the doorway of his room, soaking in the purity of his joy-filled imagination.
Satoshi had whispered animatedly about the adventures he envisioned sharing with the new baby—games in the backyard, secret hideouts in the attic, and bedtime stories where he would be the storyteller, just like Papa. His enthusiasm was infectious, filling the air with a palpable sense of hope and new beginnings.
You and Satoru listened with hearts full of love, cherishing these fleeting moments that held the promise of a growing family. As Satoshi's voice eventually faded into soft snores, you closed his door gently, the sound resonating with the quiet serenity of the night.
Satoru turned to you, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the hallway light. With a tender smile, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest. The warmth of his embrace was reassuring, a silent affirmation of the love and unity you shared.
"I can't wait to see where happiness begins." he murmured, his voice a gentle murmur against your hair. His words held a mix of excitement and wonder, as if he was already imagining the new dynamics their family would soon embrace.
"Me too." you whispered back, leaning into his embrace. The softness of his touch, the steady beat of his heart against yours, filled you with a profound sense of gratitude and anticipation for the future.
In that moment, standing in the quiet hallway bathed in moonlight, you knew that together, you and Satoru look at each other. There was no need for anymore words. You just needed each other. You just needed this moment.
You smiled at him, and he smiles back. Just a little bit more, everything will be over. You will finally live in peace. You’ll be happy. You’ll grow old together. You believe it so. And you wish that it would be enough.
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