#gravity falls scenery
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watchingthewheelsgo · 1 year ago
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blae-kitta · 5 months ago
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Dreamscape chats before everything went wrong
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stanleynopines · 9 months ago
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Fiddauthor is so canon(Alex told me, trust me ☝️)
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madcat-world · 3 months ago
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Rift - Vulpes-Ibculta
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swapadoodle · 6 months ago
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Mystery Shack pre-mysteryfied
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trupahd · 6 months ago
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Dibujo por Halloween atrasado, espero que se la hayan pasado bien y conseguido muchos dulces 😉
Se que estuve un poco ausente, pero fue por asuntos de la universidad, espero tener más tiempo.
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masoqueen-official · 7 months ago
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ART UPDATE 1/4 (10-5-24)
Some work doodles/notes I took for both memory and ridicule. Okay mostly ridicule.
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Oh yeah, almost forgot I actually carried the angel baby to security. ♡ Miss u babey.
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Oohoohoo TimeChasers content? This art ACTUALLY looks good.
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De Lego store opened, will get to more of that later. (I hate Jasmine, both Jasmines.)
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Work? Sleep? Emotional stability? Where???
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Had a heart attack reading the bubbles but you freaks did vote it was okay so here it is lmao, this is a joke oml.
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Apparently one of the old Savoy Tea (RIP) employees recognized me at the airport (while I was working) and we swapped discords because apperently they were visiting their... fiancé? Idk. They were cool.
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thicc-ray-of-sunshine · 7 months ago
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Last chapter of my Stanfiction is in editing rn, it will be up in several hours 🙏
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lithenart · 8 months ago
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Passionate Graphic Designer 🎨💻 | Transforming Ideas into Stunning Visuals | Elevate Your Brand with Engaging Designs | Let's Collaborate and Bring Your Vision to Life! I'm here to transform your ideas into captivating designs.
💡 Let's Discuss Your Project! Have any project in mind? Let's chat! I'm excited about the opportunity to work on new and exciting ventures. Your satisfaction is my priority, and I'm dedicated to exceeding your expectations.
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ahkylous-hyperfixation · 1 year ago
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Wait hold on, the panda duck never really happened!!
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No comment. Just breathe it in…
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dollfacefantasy · 6 months ago
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DREAM INCARNATE ♡
pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader
summary: you're all logan has left of the past. and when he has nightmares about that night at the mansion, you're the only thing that can keep him from falling victim to the memories that haunt him.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, dubcon, p in v, thigh fucking, somnophilia, cockwarming at the end, nightmares, brief descriptions of blood, injury, and death
wc: 2.7k
kinktober slot: day 14 - somnophilia
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The second he steps off the bike he hears your scream, and he already knows he's too late.
The sound echoes across the open expanse of land in front of the school. It's the two syllables of his name, shrieked with pure terror. His feet pound against the stone driveway as he begins sprinting to the main entrance.
Behind the school, an orange glow radiates. It flickers every few seconds, making shadows dance across the lawn in front of him. He knows it's from a fire. He could smell the smoke for miles down the road.
As he reaches the big wooden doorways, that scent morphs into one of blood. The metallic odor is so strong it nearly makes him nauseous. He swallows down his disgust though in favor of getting inside.
He couldn't be too late. He just couldn't be. Everyone's gonna be ok. It's bad, but not as bad as he thinks.
In a way, he was right. It wasn't as bad as he thought. It was so much worse.
His claws are out as soon as he swings the heavy door open, but it's in vain. There's no opponents there waiting for him. Instead, he finds Charles's wheelchair knocked over and empty. He swears his heart drops and his stomach hollows out. In his entire life, he never recalled feeling such horror.
He continues down the entrance hall. The interior of the building is quiet. All the noise, yelling and chanting, comes from outside, probably wherever that fire is. As he walks, he peers into rooms that have been left open. He sees blood smeared across the floor and spattered onto the wall. Bodies peek out from behind ransacked furniture.
When he turns the corner, he finds the first victim. Jean lies there, crumpled up and lifeless. He doesn't have to check on her to know she's dead. Several feet away against the wall Scott sits slumped over, also motionless and morbidly unresponsive. His glasses rest on the floor beside him, the right lens cracked.
He walks faster. The gravity of seeing his teammates like this weighs him down, but he has to get to you. He heard you. There's a chance they haven't finished you off yet.
On the way there, he passes Beast and Rogue and Storm and finally Charles, all in similar states to the first two of his friends he saw. Each one feels worse than any of the bullets he'd taken in his nearly two centuries of life. His mind grows frantic the farther he walks through the aftermath of the massacre. He's desperate to find you when he finally reaches the last room he hadn't checked.
The classroom with large glass windows along the back wall. It had always been your favorite. You loved all the plants in there and how sunlight bathed the room in warmth through those transparent panes.
Now, the desks that had been in neat rows pile on top of each other in haphazard clusters. The board at the end of the room displays some message about killing all mutants. He doesn't catch the specifics because he doesn't care. The only thing he can see is you, limp and mangled below it.
The words above are scrawled in red, and the puddle of scarlet surrounding you leaves no question as to what kind of ink they used.
When he gets to you, you're still twitching. Your eyes are fading, but for the moment, he can still see you inside them.
"I'm here," he chokes out, "I'm here, baby. You called for me. I'm here."
You blink slowly. Without seeing the surrounding scenery, it would look like you were just sleepy, waking up from a lazy afternoon nap. But unlike those occasions, your gaze doesn't hold any love. All he can feel radiating off of you is fear.
"Logan?" you whimper before coughing. Your chest rattles with the urge to clear the blood making it hard for you to breathe. He tries to soothe you through it as best he can, but there's not much he can do.
You regain yourself and continue on with what you had been trying to say.
"Where were you? Why didn't you help us?" you ask, tears gathering in your eyes.
"I- I was- I'm sorry," he says instead of answering the questions. He doesn't want to waste time with any of his pathetic explanations. "I'm here now. We're gonna get you out of here, and it's going to be ok."
Tears leak from your eyes, one rolling out from the inner corner. He can see the streams of water trailing down your face from the glow outside the windows.
"Why didn't you help us?" you cry again, "Why did you leave us to die? Why did you leave me?"
Then his eyes open.
Unlike his usual nightmares, he doesn't yell or shoot straight up when he regains consciousness. His claws don't pop out ready to tear apart the imagined threat. This time, he only jerks a little with a strained gasp. After that, he feels frozen, as if his joints locked in place.
His chest puffs with shallow breaths. It takes his mind a few minutes to catch up. While staring at the dark ceiling above, the image of you dying begins to fade away. That hadn't happened. That wasn't how that part of the night had played out.
The rest of his dream, however, had been more based in reality. Those images of the others strewn across the mansion are harder to clear. He rubs his rough palm over his face, trying to push them away. But he can already feel the ache of self-loathing and guilt gnawing at his insides.
He tries to remember the things you told him on the few rare occasions you had to console him. There's nothing to do about it now. It's in the past. All you can do is try to be better for the future.
Your voice plays these reminders through his head. They help bring him back down a little. He feels the plush comfort of your mattress beneath him and your blankets draped over him. The room is silent except for the muted hum of the air conditioner. There's no screaming or chanting or fire crackling. The smell of death is gone. All there is now is the scent of you.
As he goes through this list, he feels some movement beside him. His head turns, and his eyes land on you. You had shifted around a little in your sleep, rolling onto your other side so that you're facing away from him. He hears you let out a little unconscious sigh.
Even though he couldn't see your face, the vision of you lying there peacefully, completely unaware of his turmoil, brings the slightest bit of softness to his eyes.
He reaches over and rubs the small of your back. You look so delicate right now. He rolls onto his side in the same way you're facing, scooting closer.
The sight of your clean pajamas puts him at ease faster than anything else. There's no blood, no torn seams or other signs of pain. The thin baby blue fabric clings to your figure. He tucks his fingers beneath it, sliding his hand up the warm, smooth expanse of your back. They drag up and down along the path of your spine. He feels you melt a little, growing more relaxed as he strokes you. The idea brings him more comfort, that you were just as soothed by his presence as he was yours.
He doesn't understand how you still feel that way about him after everything. Most days he still questioned why you didn't hate him after what happened to the others. He wouldn't blame you for casting him aside like everyone else did.
But he's trying to do as you often tell him and not dwell on the past. So instead, he focuses on the fact that he needs more of you.
He removes his hand from under your shirt and uses both arms to pull your body to him. His muscular arms encircle your smaller frame and situate you right against his chest like a little teddy bear. Nuzzling into the back of your neck, he can smell your lotion. The light and airy aroma loosens the lingering tension in his shoulders.
He lays some kisses against the skin too. You're so precious in this condition, limp and pliable, easy for him to hold and love on. He needs you like this when he feels this way. As much as your words bring him peace of mind, sometimes he just wants to feel you. To feel that you're still here and that you're safe.
Plus, the physical aspect of holding you also calms him down more than he'd probably ever admit out loud. It's just so hard to be upset when he has the round curve of your ass pressed up against him. Nothing wards off the bad memories like you in his grasp. 
He smooths his palms across your belly, gliding them upwards beneath your shirt to cup your breasts. His large hands squeeze them gently. Though the touch is inherently sexual, it's also comforting. He kneads them for a moment before bringing one back down to your pelvis and tucking it under your panties.
You squirm a little from the sudden feeling of being confined and explored. He hears you mumble something incoherent and spots your eyes fluttering a bit.
"Shhh, it's ok, baby. It's just me," he whispers while laying lazy kisses up the column of your throat to below your ear, "You're ok. I've got you."
That's enough to get you to close your eyes again and settle in his arms, but you still babble something he can barely make out.
"Mhm, I know," he murmurs, "You just go back to sleep for me, honey. You're being such a good girl. Giving me just what I need."
He watches you deflate back into your dreams. By now, he's started to fill out beneath the pair of loose sweatpants he had on. He grinds his bulge against your ass with measured rolls of his hips. A soft sigh fans over your shoulder.
At the same time, his fingers in the front swirl around your clit. He teases the little bundle of nerves, drawing tiny patterns of pleasure over it. Your hips push back against him in response. The increased pressure against his cock only drives his need for you more.
His digits drag down your slit and back up to your little nub. He works on you until you're nice and slick between your thighs, ready to take him.
He shifts around a little, adjusting the waistband on his pants to pull his length out. The thick appendage throbs with need for you. He strokes it a few times, feeling the heat beneath his fingers. His other set of digits hooks around the seat of your shorts and panties and pulls them to the side. Pushing his hips forward, he slides his shaft between your thighs.
Your folds engulf him perfectly. He groans softly before beginning to rock his pelvis. He moves in small strokes. The motion isn't rough or primal, just slow and needy. Each drag against your velvety skin coats his cock in your arousal.
His arms get tighter around you. He makes sure he's not holding too tight, not wanting to accidentally snap a rib during this process. You just feel so fucking good. He has to have you so close it feels as though he's trying to absorb you. 
He buries his face in your neck, little puffs of air blowing on your skin with each grunt he makes. More wetness gathers where the two of you meet as he keeps thrusting. He feels the fat tip of his cock nudge your clit. He can feel the way your legs squirm at that sensation too.
In your sleep, your hands drift up to hold one of his forearms. You whine softly, but it's crackly and broken. It's not a choice, just a subconscious reaction to the pleasure sizzling between your hips.
He works a little faster now, back and forth, back and forth. Without thinking about it, he lightly bites your shoulder. He doesn't use enough pressure to hurt, but he also is pretty sure there will be marks when he finally lets go.
The dull ache on your shoulder combined with the teasing flicker on your cunt still doesn't wake you. Your eyes don't open until he angles himself back and pops the first couple inches of his shaft into your entrance.
That's when your gossamer lashes lift from your cheeks in the direction of your brow. It takes you a few blinks to comprehend the sensation. You feel the heat of him all around you right away. The mild stretching down below makes your head spin.
He sees you waking and swoops in again, mouth releasing your flesh and migrating to the shell of your ear.
"That feel good, princess?" he mutters as he bottoms out.
After a few lazy blinks, you're able to nod. Your fingers dig into his forearm a little harder.
"Good. Just relax and enjoy it for me, ok?" he mumbles.
He starts to thrust, pumping himself into you at a slow, steady pace. His movements remain controlled. Now wasn't the time to fuck like survival depended on it. That's not what this is about. He has all he needs like this, and he can tell you do too.
You nod to that second question before shutting your eyes again. He feels your head going limp against your pillow and rewards your compliance with some soothing kisses to the area he had bitten before.
"Sweet, sweet girl," he grunts. It's more to himself than you. He's not even sure you'll hear it.
Your body is relaxed again with a handful more thrusts. He doesn't think you're fully asleep, probably drifting on some middle ground between lucidity and sleep.
His cock throbs within you. You're so tight and warm, wetter than you were on the outside. He knows he probably won't last much longer, but that's ok. There didn't need to be a big finish right now.
He pants against your skin, his face tensing with the need to release. His fingers dig into the skin of your chest. The heat in his stomach keeps rising higher and higher as the pressure does the same.
It gets to a point that it finally snaps and his hips jerk, clapping against your ass. He spills deep inside you. The warmth floods your belly. He feels your legs go taut and the way your walls spur him on by contracting around his cock.
He fucks it into you slowly. His body also feels tense for the moment, taking care to remain gentle with you. His hips move in slow rolls to work his cum deeper into you, but they eventually slow down to the occasional twitch. And then finally nothing.
"Gonna be all messy now..." you grumble.
He chuckles against your skin, the sound raspy and low. "I'll clean you up in the morning," he whispers and kisses below your ear, this time the peck chaste. Nothing but pure love in the gesture.
You hum with acknowledgement before yawning. There's a brief pause after that. He stays inside of you, needing to feel that snug embrace for a bit longer. No sound comes from either of you. He's pretty sure you're trying to sleep again, but then you speak.
"Did you have a nightmare?" you whisper.
He hesitates. You already knew the answer. There was no other reason to ask if not to confirm. That doesn't change the fact that he doesn't like showing weakness.
But he's honest with you anyway.
"Mhm," he hums.
You nod, contemplating your next words. "Do you feel better now?" you decide to ask.
"Yeah, baby. You fixed me right up," he responds just as quietly. 
And it's the truth. For the moment, he's better. Tomorrow he'll probably have another one of these things, but for tonight you've cured him. He keeps holding you close and finally shuts his eyes again.
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gay-dorito-dust · 9 months ago
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Will you do a scenario of how we’d meet Bill for the first time and what he would be like if you were sort of “friends”? 🙏
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You were minding your business while walking through the woods of Gravity Falls, just needing a change of scenery and finding the woods to be the perfect place to do so with it’s mushrooms, flowers and the wildlife that crossed your path.
Everything was seemingly fine and not out of the ordinary until you started to feel like you were being watched from somewhere, you looked to see if you could spot anyone, but all you could see were birch trees that had markings on the bark that suspiciously looked like eyes. You were just about thinking of leaving until you heard a voice from somewhere.
‘Hey kiddo!’
You looked to the left, nothing
‘Other way kid.’
the to the right, nothing
‘Colder.’
Up? Nope, nothing.
‘You’re practically an human popsicle at this point.’
How about looking down? Still nothing. Now you were getting confused, scared and annoyed.
You heard the voice sigh and say ‘you’re starting to make me feel sad, here I’ll make this a little easier for you.’ Then before you could say anything, a small yellow triangle with one eye wearing a top hat and bow tie appeared before you.
‘It’s great to finally meet you y/n.’ It said and immediately you were freaked out.
‘Who are you and how did you know my name?’ You asked, uneasy.
‘The names Bill Cipher and I know lots of things, lots of things.’ Bill replied, shrugging. ‘Wanna see what I can do?’ He adds after a brief pause but before you could answer him, he held his hand out to a nearby deer as its teeth were taken out of its mouth and into his small hand in a neat pile. ‘Deer teeth for you kid hehe.’ He then chuckled as he dumped the pile of deer teeth into your hands.
You on the other hand didn’t find this funny and fought the urge to vomit as you offered Bill the deer teeth back. ‘Mind giving the deer its teeth back? I’m sure it has more use for them than either of us.’ You ask as Bill did as you asked and gave the deer its teeth back as it galloped off elsewhere, leaving you alone with the weird triangle in the woods. Everything that had happened within the past five minutes had been overwhelming for you, too overwhelming that you had to sit yourself down on the trunk of a fallen tree and put your head in your hands, muttering to yourself.
‘This isn’t real, this is all some weird fever dream or I’m tripping balls. There’s no other explanation.’
Bill only chuckled as he floated next to you and patted you on the shoulder. ‘There, there human I can reassure you that what you just saw was very much real.’
You looked at him from your hands, unamused. ‘You fucking suck at comforting people you know that?’
‘I think we’ll get along great!’ Bill chirped gleefully.
‘We absolutely will not.’ You replied but you had an inkling that your opinion on the matter didn’t matter.
Now onto how bill would be if you were sort of ‘friends.’
He’s got a weird way about showing his feelings in any capacity.
The little shit put rats, dead rats outside your door, spelling out your name on random ass occasions that made it look like to others that a) you were haunted or b) had a weird stalker who liked to form your name out of dead rats.
He doesn’t want you having friends outside of him because and I quote ‘I’m the only friend you need, why bother with anyone else. So don’t even try cuz I’ll be watching you.’
Will leave sticky post it notes anywhere and everywhere saying to get more silly straws or else he’ll find a way to possess you and make you do embarrassing shit. Ie: walk through town in your underwear, make you speak backwards, kick a child-
Bill was a brat and his pranks were often traumatic but apparently they were ‘light’ in comparison to the stuff he did to his other meat puppets. You didn’t ask any further questions about what he meant by that in fear that he’d show you one as an example.
You are probably the only person who bill has told about his secret technique with mascara and eyeliner, even seeing him do it once when he insisted that you had a ‘sleepover’ at your place. He even points the mascara brush at you warningly as he threatened that you were to never tell people about this or else.
His version of jealousy when he sees you spending time with others is to trash your house and try to act cute when you catch him in the act. You don’t fall for this and give Bill the silent treatment for the rest of the day as he practically lost his shit over your lack of attention.
Probably air horned you awake once.
Bill Wouldn’t tell you this but he make your enemies do stupid shit that resulted in their deaths, for fun he claims but he didn’t want his favourite meat sack to start leaking water from their eyes every time something went wrong in their life. So he just cuts them out in the most brutal way possible.
Bill was stuck to you like glue and there’s was no way to hide from him as he would ultimately appears where you are, even if you’re in the fucking shower, he don’t care.
Bill: *appears in shower* my favourite meat sack have you- stop screaming it’s only me, have you seen a king cobra anywhere, I must’ve dropped it somewhere here-
He probably once threatened you with the whole ‘steal your eyes’ thing like he did with Ford but you had witness enough of Bill’s behaviour to know that he was joking about that, to which he was proud and would magically make a cake filled with worms, bugs and other unpleasant things appear in celebration.
You may or may not have been sick that day.
Your and Bills friendship was weird, probably not the healthiest in all honestly and you should seek help and or maybe therapy for the shit he’s out you through.
You were his property, you were his pet, HIS MEAT SACK and you wouldn’t be allowed to go anywhere without him knowing and or being nearby in hopes of catching your eye.
Just a yellow triangle with one eye and a top hat and bow tie floating ominously in the background was enough to unnerve anyone.
You had no freedom as far as you were concerned in this ‘friendship’ but bill likes to claim that he has given you the most freedom out of anyone who has ever existed.
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aoioozora · 2 months ago
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Coorie Doon
>> John 'Soap' MacTavish, fluff, not properly proofread!!
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You couldn't sleep no matter what you did. The earlier mission was long and difficult, and you, poor new recruit, felt more alert than tired. Your body ached and protested for rest, but your brain seemed to have other ideas. Counting sheep didn't work, neither did breathing exercises nor imagining peaceful sceneries. You tossed and turned restlessly all night, but Sgt. Soap, however, was conked out like the dead next to you.
You shifted slightly, struggling to get comfortable on the hard floor. It made your shoulder blade dig into your back. It hurt. You heard Soap's soft grunt as he turned; you felt his shoulder brush against yours and you assumed he was now laying on his back. A soft sigh followed. The chirp of distant crickets filled the silence until he spoke softly, his Scottish accented voice thick and deep with sleep, "Yer still awake?"
You looked at him, even though both of you were still in near pitch darkness and he was barely visible. "How'd you know?" you asked.
"Been feelin' ya movin' around." he answered. "Can't sleep?"
"Yeah."
"Whit's the matter?" he said through a yawn.
"I don't know. I just can't fall asleep."
"Hm..." he paused, as if pondering, and then offered, "I'll sing ye a song."
Being so desperate, any method to induce sleep seemed worthy of a shot. "Alright."
"Roll over on yer stomach," he instructed as he rolled onto his side to face you.
"Why?"
"C'mon," he urged, "Trust me here."
You rolled over and laid on your stomach. His large hand gently rested on your upper back, particularly on your shoulder blade. He began to softly pat you in a soft, rhythmic manner. And then he started crooning the chorus his rumbling voice,
Coorie doon, coorie doon, coorie doon, my darling
Coorie doon the day
It was amazing how instantly your body sagged, even if it was on hard ground. Soap felt the slight drop of your tense shoulder, and you could almost hear him smiling as he sang.
Coorie doon, coorie doon, coorie doon, my darling
Coorie doon the day
He repeated the chorus, his voice growing softer. His patting continued in the same steady, soothing rhythm. Under his hand, he felt your shoulders rising once and then dropping slowly as you let out a sigh.
Lie down, my dear, and in your ear
To help you close your eye
I'll sing a song, a slumber song
A miner's lullaby
The chorus followed, sweet and gentle like a softly rippling stream of water. Your eyes started to grow heavy. In the darkness, you could vaguely see the form of his tactical vest, but as your vision dimmed further, it grew more vague.
Your daddy's doon the mine, my darling
Doon in the curbly main
Your daddy's howkin' coal, my darling
For his ain wee wean
Fatigue and gravity worked together to weigh your body down, almost molding with the ground beneath you. It was cold, but it didn't seem to matter anymore; the Sergeant's hand provided sufficient warmth. Soap sung the chorus again, and his voice sounding softer and more distant.
He noticed your evident lack of movement and recognized that you were falling asleep. His voice continued to grow softer. The final pat gently laid on your back turned into soft caresses. He yawned as he sang, feeling sleepy from his own singing, if that was even possible. He too slumped back onto the ground slightly, coorieing down close next to you to share his warmth.
His voice trailed off to silence, leaving the crickets outside to continue their song. His caressing slowed down and eased away until he ensured you were fast asleep. His shoulder and arm laxed slightly, pulling his hand down along with it, but it remained touching your back, assuring you even in your slumber that he was still nearby.
Your daddy coories doon, my darling
Doon in a three foot seam
So you can coorie doon my darling
Coorie doon and dream
"Coorie doon and dream..." he finally crooned, closing his own eyes.
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haikyuubby · 3 months ago
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a burning hill ; k. bakugo
“i’m tired of wanting more, i think i’m finally worn.”
❆ - angst, gender neutral reader, italics = flashback.
✩ 𝐌𝐇𝐀 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃! ✩
↳ note: this will take place during s7, ep11.
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It was warm.
I felt a warm gush of blood puddle on the side of my body.
The crunching sound I heard from my ribs filled my ears, causing my face to contort with both pain and cringe.
Shigaraki landed a pretty good hit on me, throwing my body onto the ground.
We had to have been fighting for almost an hour now, everyone was relentlessly tired.
Mirko, Best Jeanist, Mr. Aizawa, Monoma, and Bakugo.
We were all doing our best to try and stall Shigaraki until Midoriya could come and help us.
The scenery around us was gorey, blood covering the natural colors of the Coffin in the Sky’s makeshift ground, small pieces of skin and ripped hero costumes also decorating the scene.
The place just reeked of pure blood and sweat; the situation was awful.
Shigaraki’s body wouldn’t stop producing these arm like things, causing the room that we once had to fight and move around to shrink.
Bakugo was laying down beside Best Jeanist, looking damn near like a corpse.
I was immobilized, any movement I chose to make hurt my body and made blood come out of the various open wounds i had.
I see Bakugo slowly get up and make his way towards Shigaraki.
At this point, I am mentally begging him to just stop, to just back down for once in his life.
I attempt to yell at Bakugo to stop, but my pleads comes out as mere whispers.
“Gotta…defeat him…” I hear Bakugo mumble.
He stops for a second and looks at me, lips turning upward ever so slightly— but not turning into a full smile.
Bakugo continues to walk towards Shigaraki, preparing to fight.
No…
In a flash, multiple explosions appear before me, watching Bakugo work himself to death.
I knew that his death was inevitable at this point, but there was no stopping him at this point.
I try to move my body closer towards the scene, inching closer to Bakugo and Shigaraki.
Everything hurts badly.
I might die if I push my body even a little bit more, but I don’t care.
As I’m inching closer to them, I watch Shigaraki punch a hole right through Bakugo’s body.
My entire body runs cold.
I look up, seeing Mr. Aizawa and Monoma’s eyes tear up.
Bakugo’s limp body was launched onto the ground, no sign of a rising chest or moving limbs.
Bakugo was dead.
I can’t yell, I can barely move, Mirko and Best Jeanist are worn down, and there has been no sign of Izuku Midoriya nearby.
This was awful.
My body falls back onto the ground, suddenly weighing me down.
The shock that ran through my body caused me to panic.
The gravity of the situation fully weighed in on me, which caused me to remember what Bakugo said to me just a few days ago.
ੈ♡‧₊˚
As I’m walking, I feel someone’s presence come up from behind me.
“Hey, Y/n. Can I come in?” Bakugo asks.
Currently, we were moving into our temporary dorm unit, preparing for the incoming war.
I nod my head yes, getting up to face him.
“Hey Bakugo, what’s up?” I ask while setting my box of things down.
Bakugo then grabs both of my shoulders, turning my body to directly face his.
“Bakugo? What’s going on?” I ask, surprised by his sudden display of physical touch.
“Look, I know that this isn’t the time right now to be talking about this kind of stuff, but I promise that after all this is over, I’ll take you out on a proper date.” Bakugo says.
My mouth parts slightly, eyebrows raising with his statement.
“W-Wait, where is this coming from?” I ask.
“We’ve liked each other for a while, it’s only right that I take you out after this whole “war thing” is over, right?” He responds.
Bakugo’s grip on my shoulders tightens slightly, worry coating his face.
He knows that I wouldn’t reject him, right?
“I’d really like that, Bakugo.”
ੈ♡‧₊˚
That moment flashed in my mind as I watched Bakugo’s body fully die out.
I see Edgeshot travel as fast as he can towards Bakugo and Best Jeanist.
Remembering Edgeshot’s quirk, I silently pray that he can do something to help Bakugo.
For a second, I forgot that I was at risk of dying, too.
Shigaraki uses one of his arms to break up the ground, causing me to tumble away from the scene.
I have no control over my body right now, and I feel my vision growing foggy.
I felt blood seeping from my wounds, I knew that I have neared the end.
If there’s a god out there, please keep Bakugo safe.
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lilrainbowcloud · 1 year ago
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Pairing: Luke Castellan x Child of Apollo! Reader
Genre: Fluff and angst
Word count: 2.6k || masterlist
Warning: mention of blood
a/n: the pictures used does not potray the reader. the final part, annabeth was never there.
The two times you trusted him, and the one time he betrayed you.
i. Taking his hand to pull you through the protective barrier.
“Wake up, we’re almost there,”
Taking a deep breath as you regained your consciousness from a dreamless sleep, you straighten your back, arms stretching above your head as you readjust your focus to the satyr in front of you.
“What?”
“Camp Half Blood! We’re almost there!” exclaimed your friend, Caelum, excitedly pointing to the window with a wide smile adorning his face. Happy to be able to bring back a demigod safely to camp for a satyr his age. An achievement of his service.
Turning to the window yourself, the view of the forest and blue sky bordered by the sea filled your vision. The more the train moved forward, the longer the scenery in front of you unfold like a painter with a brush painting the environment for you as you go.
A soft gasp escaped your lips.
“How do you know where to go?” curious, you asked your guide as you dodge the protruding branches from scratching your skin, however when you looked in front of you, it was no problem for Caelum to navigate the forest as though he was water flowing through a river. His movement fluid, legs nimble. You watched as his little goat ears twitch as he moved.
“Trust me! I know this forest like the back of my hand!”
Feeling your movement was obstructed on your left foot, gravity pulled you down as you got caught on a root. You yelped as both of your hands braced you from the impact of the fall.
“Cael-“
“Shh!”
“Can you at least he-”
“SHH!”
Confusion and disbelief twisted your face as you looked up at him. How could he told you to shut up when you just fell? And not help you up. Wasn’t he supposed to be your protector? That was what he told you back at your mum’s house when they relayed to you the truth about your life. From wanting closure and understanding of your acentric self, you had accepted the reality of your being wholeheartedly. The least you knew you weren’t the one. It was comforting in a twisted way.
A second of you assessing his demeanor, ears flat on his head, eyes wide searching, you knew better than to make another sound. Instead, slowly you untangle your foot from the root and turned your body to look behind you.
The forest had gone deftly silent. No bird chirping, no leaves rustling. Something was definitely wrong.
A loud flap of wings could be heard, then there was a shadow moved on the ground, passing above you. What animal had that large of a wingspan? Nothing came to your mind but it filled your nerves with icy bites of fear. The hair on the back of your neck stood.
“Y/N, get up right now,” two arms hooking under your armpits, you didn’t hear Caelum ran to you as he hauled you up to your feet. Eyes looking through the trees above you, you nodded hastily and took his hand in yours as he quickly pulled you into a sprint.
“The camp is near! Once we get pass the barrier it can’t get to you!”
Failing to form any words, you only managed to squeeze his hand in confirmation that you understood him. Whatever barrier he meant and whatever was chasing you, you didn’t care. Only your life and safety mattered.
The loud screeching of the fury could be heard to anyone who was near the camp border. That anyone was none other than Luke himself. Momentarily distracted by the form of the winged monster emerging from the forest trees, the wooden sword of his sparring partner hit him on the shoulder causing his opponent to quickly apologize with concern. But it fell on deft ear as Luke held his hand up as an “Its fine” gesture, too focused on the flying monster diving back down into the thick foliage.
Gripping the wooden sword in his hand tighter as tough it was a real sharpened one, he and the other campers nearby halted their activities to stand ready too near the border. Weapons drawn in steady hands, they held their ground for a possible attack of an intruder or welcoming a demigod.
“There!” The sound of a voice shouting could be heard following the rustling of bushes as a satyr and a girl, frightened looking with their hands linked emerged into the few meters of clearing separating the camp and forest.
The winged figure rose again to the sky, Luke noticed its nose about to dive down on them again. Gasps and shouts of horror rose with the crowd.
Instinct took over his body. Turning to his right to a camper from the Apollo cabin, he snatched the bow and arrow off of his hands before running pass the protection of the barrier and into the clearing where he was joined with the pair in the middle.
“Go! Go!” encouraging them to move forward for the last few meters from the border, Luke aimed the bow upwards, landing a clumsy shot with unfocused aim to the fury. Not his best suited weapon but it was enough to direct the fury away from them as the three of them sprinted back to safety.
Sensing the fury closing in on them behind his back by the sound of its screeching loud in his ear, with less than two meters away from the border, Luke pushed his legs to run ahead of them and with a last surge of adrenaline, he pulled the girl’s arm, bodies colliding as he cushioned her fall with his figure.
A loud thud, followed by a screech echoed through the atmosphere. A second later the sound of wing flaps disappearing filled you with a sense of relief as you knew that whatever that creature was chasing you had retreated to the hell hole it came from.
Fear replaced with reality, your flight senses dissipating slowly made you aware of your surrounding again. Made you aware of the hard grip you had on the body of the person who had pulled you through the barrier.
With a jolt of surprise as if you had been shocked by an electric static, you released your grip from him, quickly standing up with an utter of Thank you for saving your life.
Turning back towards the forest, the sight of the monster was no longer there. You were only left with the many pair of eyes looking at you with interest as they welcome a new half-blood into the camp. Another pawn of the gods in their game of life. But you don’t know that yet.
“Welcome to Camp Half Blood.”
Facing the voice of your savior, it was the first time you get to appropriately assess him. His appearance of dark curly hair slightly matted on his forehead, tall stature, and kind smile as he extended his hand to you in greeting. As if what had happened moments ago was that nothing out of the ordinary.
“I’m Luke.”
ii. He taught you to sword fight.
Two summers had passed since your first day arriving at camp.
One bead of the day Apollo claimed you as his daughter a few weeks of your first stay after you had helped saved and healed a child of Demeter from a cut, he received from a river stone during capture the flag. The bright yellow glow of the sun symbol bathed the riverbank of the camp as cheers from your now half siblings roared through the air.
Another bead from your second summer at camp. The summer you had shared your confessions with Luke under the blanket of stars, illuminated by the bonfire as you both sat together with the melodious voice of your half siblings leading the song. It was a shared sentiment with each other as you both vowed to protect and be there by each other’s side through anything. A sanctuary in the form of trust bonding you to him, blinding the absurdity of your fates in the world even only for a while.
“Get up, Y/N,”
Huffing out an annoyed breath, you took his outstretched hand as he pulled you back on your feet. Being the child of Apollo, you had a natural talent with the bow and arrow. The curve of the finger pads, and the slender shape of the arrow knocked on the bow string molded so perfectly into you. It was a natural talent in your blood thanks to your father. But with a sword, it does not resonate with you. Therefore, this was the third summer that Luke, being the best swordsman in the camp offered to teach you.
So, here you are with a wooden sword, surrounded by the dense trees as the audience as the son of Hermes handed your ass to you.
“You know what, I think I’m improving enough for today don’t you think?” truthfully, you were just finding an excuse to stop the training session earlier than usual as you dusted the dead leaves off of your clothes.
“You did improve, and I’m proud of you.” Getting back to his starting stance, he aimed the point of the fake sword at you again, with a playful glint in his eyes.
In a swift movement of a trained warrior, he moved behind you with the tip of the wooden sword softly touching the back of your neck, “What if someone tries to back stab you?”
Even if he’s not in front of you, your mind’s eye can form the face he was making. Proud to have tricked his opponent in a moment of distraction. You slowly turned around, he tipped the sword to your chest.
“If someone stabs you from the back, then they’re a coward.”
Raising your own sword to push his away from your chest, you took a few steps back and continued your battle stance once more.
iii. Defending Percy from Luke.
Colourful sparkles of the fireworks filled the sky. Each boom heard comes with it a bloom of neon flower lighting up the camp’s sky as the camp went into celebration of the return of Percy from his quest. Cheers of the campers made your heart full as you made your way through the woods trying to find Luke to join you near the bonfire for the singalong.
Though the sky was lit, the ground was shrouded by the darkness of the night. The weigh of your quiver on your hip, and the golden bow, a gift from your father on your back gave you comfort as you trudge towards the place where you and Luke meet up for lessons.
After the sun sets, he vanished from your bearings which was odd since he had promised you to help with the preparation of the celebration later in the evening. Knowing him, it was one out of three places he could’ve gone to.
“Luke!” calling out to him, your voice was swallowed by the void, absorbed by nature. You didn’t get any reply back.
Venturing further, his name caught on the tip of your tongue as you heard the metal clash of swords. Stopping in your track for a moment, you heard voices mixing with the clinging.
Luke and Percy.
Worry surged you forward towards the ruckus.
Horror filled your chest as you witness Percy slashing riptide to Luke. A sound of hurt came from Luke meant Percy had hit him.
Anger took over as you danced a move you’ve practiced and even more perfected overtime, your arrow now knocked on the bow, feet sliding at the end of your halt in front of Luke, shielding him from Percy.
“Y/N?” Both of them gasping out of breath from their duel. One in disbelief and the other, confused.
“Percy, what are you doing?”
Never in your lifetime would you had imagined a day you would turn your weapon against someone who you considered as your friend despite the little amount of time you had spent together. But here you are, eyes squinting to see him better in the dark. Fingers ready to release the arrow.
“Are you with him too?” His grip on riptide loosened at his side, looking up at you with a betrayed face.
“What are you talk-”
“Are you working with Kronos too?!” Percy’s accusing tone caught you off guard, causing you to lower your bow. Tilting your head as you let out a confused huh?
“Percy, you’re not making sense here,” Luke’s name died on your lips as you felt the cold tip of backbiter against your exposed neck. Eyes wide, you captured Percy’s eyes with his reflecting the same emotion as you, alarmed.
Déjà vu.
In the same forest, in the same spot, with the same person but with a different weapon.
Coward.
What was he thinking? What was happening first and foremost. Why were they fighting? It did not look like a practice session.
“Luke, tell me what is happening. Right. Now.”
As much as you were frightened, the overwhelming feeling of betrayal weighed heavier.
You were frozen.
“He’s working with Kronos to bring him back. To start a war. He stole Zeus’ master bolt.”
In the last sentence Percy relayed to you, you could feel the shift of the sword. So, it’s true?
Percy would not lie to you. But so would Luke. Right?
“Is that true?” Broken were your voice as you muttered the question to the person you called your lover.
The grip of your bow and the arrow returned. The muscles of your body tensed, ready to resume position.
“Y/N, listen to me, go back-”
The sword tip shifted again.
Taking advantage of this, in one swift movement you positioned yourself in front of Percy, the knocked arrow now pointing towards Luke instead.
What are we now?
The fireworks continued. For the first time tonight, you could see his face, illuminated by the purple and blue hues from the sky.
Hurt was what you saw in his dark eyes. But so was yours.
“You’re trusting him more than me now?” He raised his sword, swinging it to point from you to Percy. Eyes hardened.
“Why would he lie to me?” Why would you lie to me?
A scowl graced his face as you claimed that. The scissors that cut the string from him to you passed through.
Sensing the rising tension, Percy shouted your name as he shoved you to the side.
Luke raised his sword to swing down.
As you hit the ground, your arrow flew from your fingers, grazing Luke’s shoulder.
A hiss of pain and everything paused.
With Percy by your side, you on your back on the ground, supported by your elbows, watched as Luke held his shoulder with force. Red bloomed where your arrow had hurt him, breaking his skin.
You hurt him. But he had hurt you too.
Was this fair?
“I’m sorry,” came out weak to your ear. You didn’t event know if it had reached Luke or not. But he looked at you with much hatred.
Did he betrayed you, or you betrayed him?
“I’m sorry,” lifting yourself up from the ground, “Luke, please,” Percy helped you to stand.
Shaking his head, completely at lost for word, Luke walked back a few steps away from you as though you were the villain.
Of course, you had hurt him after promising to protect each other. But he also raised his weapon at you with the intention to hurt. Or was it to daunt you? To get you to back off?
Without another word to you, Luke turned his back to the both of you and launched himself into the rip of air among the ruined stones.
Your feet didn’t move fast enough. Your instinct wasn’t fast enough to reach him.
He vanished with your voice shouting his name.
Emptiness was what you felt as your knees hit the ground.
Numbness took over when Percy called out your name repeatedly.
Was this really happening?
Will you ever see him again?
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goatgoesmbe · 2 months ago
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Worse scenario of this (yes, it's possible) if Simon never met reader
Ghost x Soap
tw : Soap is dead, depression, suicidal ideation, hallucination, MCD, dead dove: do not eat, bad ending 🧍
Simon was so lost after Johnny's death. He became a husk of a man that could only focus on his duty, live another day just to follow orders.
So when he got injured so bad that he got medically discharged-- he would spirall into depression, hard.
Obviously, he would visit that cliff where Johnny's ash was scattered. He had never visited that place after that tim, not wanting to remember how he had lost someone so important to him. Someone who took his heart and left the earth, leaving Simon to live with a gaping hole in his chest.
But.. he needed to be reminded of it right now. Because before Johnny left, he gave Simon happiness. Something he needed to cling onto right now.
And so here he was, standing there without his signature mask. Eyes dark and hollow as he stared at the scenery below.
Thoughts filled his head to the brim, like air that kept pumping into a fully inflated balloon. A second away from popping, just like he was.
He would be so lost in his head, surrounded by faint whispers in his ear. Amalgamation of voices, his young self sniffling as he took his dad's beating, his mum's cries, gunshots, Johnny's disgusting pig-like snort at a stupid joke, and another gunshot that haunted him the most, along with the flash of image behind his eyelids. Of the one he loved falling to the ground before blood started pooling around said beloved's head.
Question after question appeared. What he would do now? how he would go on after this? and why should he keep going?
The last question lingered. Then it repeated, over and over until it was all he could think about.
Why should he keep going?
Yeah.
Eventually, his mind started to quarrel. The argument against it was so strong that it fabricated a justification in a form of a familiar figure in front of him.
"Ye look like shite" His annoying voice teased.
"Johnny-" Simon breathed after a few seconds of silence.
"Enough o' tha', aye? Come here" Johnny cut him off with that grin he loved so much. Arms spread apart, inviting him for a hug.
Entranced, Simon took a step forward.
And another.
Another.
He was so fixated on having Johnny back in his arms that he didn't notice the earth beneath had disappeared.
And it was too late to realize it until gravity pulled him down.
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