#i made one that looped and they lost their minds lol

[existancexisxstillxpain]

This one simple trick will make the clients obsessed

[calif0rnia-lovers]

safe place.

an: ngl, I wanted to hug jude & bukayo through the screen when England lost😔

requested: I remember seeing that Jude said his mom helps him when he gets "too low with the lows or too high with the highs." Can you do a fic where his gf is that way?

pairing: jude bellingham x black!reader

series: lyrically inspired tales.

if my heart aches, you breathe with me at my pace.

song: safe place by ruthanne

warnings: this is most definitely not edited lol.

The stadium lights had dimmed, and the roar of the crowd had faded into a distant memory, replaced by a haunting silence. Jude Bellingham sat in the quiet of his hotel room, the weight of the Euro final's loss pressing heavily on his shoulders. Exhaustion seeped into his bones—physically, mentally, and emotionally he was tapped. The missed shot that could have changed everything replayed in his mind, a tormenting loop of what-ifs and if-onlys.

He felt utterly drained, each breath a reminder of the effort he had poured into the match. The worst part about losing was feeling like he was at his lowest, despite all the hard work and dedication he had poured in for his country. The memory of the silver medal being draped over his shoulder, the relentless flashes of cameras, and the disappointed faces of fans loomed over him like a dark cloud. He had tried to keep his head up, stopping to hug each of his teammates, whispering words of encouragement, but it still hurt like hell. He had forced a brave face, stifling the sting in his eyes, reassuring his family and friends that he was alright. Keeping up the front until he reached his room had been a monumental task, and now, alone in the dim light, the facade crumbled.

He stared blankly at the wall, the ache of disappointment settling deep within his chest. Hours seemed to drag by, each minute stretching into an eternity. His phone was on Do Not Disturb. Although he knew the messages were meant with the best intentions, Jude wasn’t ready to read the encouraging texts sent to him. He hadn't spoken to anyone since the bus doors closed, needing space to process the defeat alone. The team’s efforts, the dreams of a nation, all seemed to hang on that one moment when his shot had veered just slightly off course.

A knock at the door broke through his reverie. Jude ignored it at first, unwilling to face anyone. If he didn’t call out, whoever it was would go away. But then it came again. 

A single knock, followed by three softer knocks, a distinct rhythm that was all too familiar. It was a special knock. Your special knock, a signal that meant more than words ever could. It prompted him to rise from the bed and cross the room.

Your interaction at the stadium was still a blur. A rushed kiss against his lips, nose, and forehead, a whispered “I love you so much,” was all he could receive before he was moving through the line of friends and family. In the few short hours that had passed, you had showered and changed.

When he opened the door, Jude found you standing there with your travel backpack pressed against your chest.

Jude paused to take you in, grounding himself by focusing on your familiar features. It was a routine he had built over the last six months of your relationship, a way to find solace in the midst of chaos. His eyes passed over your smooth, deep brown skin, which seemed to glow softly in the dim light. He traced the contours of your face, from your cheekbones to your lips that carried a gentle, reassuring smile. The sight of it relaxed the furrow of his brow.

Your eyes, warm and filled with understanding, were his favorite feature. They held a depth of emotion and wisdom that made him feel seen and understood. Your lashes framed them perfectly, long and curled, adding to the natural beauty that always took his breath away. His gaze traveled up to the soft curls, pineappled at the top of your head, his hand instinctively reaching forward.

As he studied you, taking in every detail—his touch tracing the curve of your jaw before settling against your cheek—he felt a sense of peace wash over him.

"Hi," you greeted softly, your voice a balm to his battered spirit.

Jude managed a weak smile, the corners of his lips lifting. "Hey," he replied, his voice rough.

You stepped inside, Jude’s hand instinctively settling on your hips as the door closed.

The scent of lavender and chamomile wafted from the bag you carried, filling the room with a calming aroma. It was a scent that lingered on the sheets of each hotel room Jude stayed in, his bedroom at home, and even in his shirts and jerseys. He associated it with you, and only you—a fragrance that instantly brought relaxation and comfort. Whenever you couldn't make it to his games, Jude would find the aromatherapy tucked away in his bag, a thoughtful gesture that made him feel close to you even when apart.

“My flight leaves at 9:30 tomorrow,” you began as you unzipped the bag. Gathering what you needed, you started towards the bathroom. “So, I’ll probably leave here at 7. I’m sure traffic is going to be insane.”

Jude listened to your voice, the calm cadence soothing his frayed nerves. You didn’t expect a response; you knew him well enough to understand that after a loss, he needed time to recover. So, you verbally went through your travel plans. The turnaround was quick, but you needed to report to work. While slightly annoying, the plan was simple: report home, get back to work, and into your routine. Jude would soon follow.

As you focused on starting the bath, Jude began to look through the items you bought. His hand paused on something small and familiar, tucked beneath his favorite snacks—a stuffed lion. He picked it up, a wave of bittersweet memories washing over him. The lion had a soft, golden mane and big, friendly eyes. Stitched into the pad of its right paw was a heart. Jude remembered the day he won it for you at the Ice Palace, the way your face had lit up with joy, your smile so wide and genuine it had made his heart swell.

"My lion," you’d giggled, hugging the plush toy tightly before wrapping your arms around his neck, your laughter ringing in his ears. “I can keep him with me when you’re away.”

You paused in the bathroom doorway, watching him hold the stuffed lion. "That always makes me feel better when we're apart," you said softly, a smile finding your lips as the shared memory hung between the two of you.

You began to take out and explain the things you had brought to cheer him up—a selection of his favorite snacks, your iPad full of movies, and some comforting toiletries. "I brought these because I thought they might help you relax. And I know how much you love Shawshank Redemption. So...being the gracious, loving girlfriend I am, I will sit through it for the hundredth time. But, only if you promise to share your sour st-"

You were mid-sentence when he moved towards you, wrapping his arms around your middle from behind. For a moment, you stayed that way, the warmth of his embrace speaking louder than words. Jude buried his face in your shoulder, his breath hitching as he tried to hold back the tears that threatened to escape.

You could feel the tremors in his body, his grip tightening as if you were his anchor in the storm of his emotions.

"It's okay," you whispered, turning to face him, the warmth of your palms against his cheeks lifting his eyes to yours. "You gave it everything you had, and that's all anyone can ask for. I'm so proud of you, Jude. You’ve come so far, and this is just a moment in your journey. It's okay to feel hurt and disappointed, but remember that you are stronger than this. Everything happens exactly when it's meant to."

Finally, the dam broke, and Jude rested against you, the tears he’d managed to keep at bay all night came pouring out. He remained pressed against you until the stress of the past few months drained his eyes dry. He allowed you to lead him to the bathroom, welcoming the warm, fragrant steam filled the room, creating a cocoon of comfort. 

He allowed you to help him undress, your movements tender and deliberate, as if you were peeling away not just his clothes but also the layers of his hurt.

"Let's get you in," you murmured softly, as his lips brushed against yours, guiding him into the tub. Jude eased himself into the warm water, letting out a deep sigh as the heat began to soothe his aching muscles and weary mind.

You stepped back to gather the other things you had brought, but Jude's hand gently traced soothing circles into your thigh as you stood by the tub. The simple touch spoke volumes, a silent plea for your presence, for you to stay close.

Jude leaned his head back, closing his eyes as he let the warmth of the bath wash over him. The exhaustion and frustration that had gripped him began to loosen, replaced by a growing sense of peace. He listened as you moved around the room, lighting a few candles and setting out the items you had brought—a fluffy towel, his favorite shampoo, and a soft robe for when he got out. 

You joined Jude in the tub, settling behind him. He welcomed the loofah against his skin, the gentle, rhythmic motion of your hands soothing his frayed nerves. You massaged his shoulders, careful with the one that had been previously injured, as he rested back against you. His hand found its place on his leg, grounding him as he watched the movie playing on the tablet propped nearby.

Your touch worked magic, and you could feel his body gradually relaxing. The tension that had coiled within him slowly unwound, and he seemed to be coming back to himself. The voice in his head, the one that echoed with doubt and personal criticism, grew quieter with each passing moment. Each gentle kiss you pressed against his skin, each laugh you shared from the film, chipped away at the walls of his frustration.

By the time most of the bubbles had dissipated, Jude was completely relaxed. His gratefulness showed in the way he gently squeezed your thigh and the soft kisses he brushed against your knuckles. The warmth of the water, combined with your presence, created a cocoon of comfort and safety. 

He tilted his head back slightly, letting it rest against your shoulder, eyes half-closed in contentment. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, fingers tracing small circles on his chest. "You don’t have to," you replied softly. "I’m here, always."

Jude sighed, a deep, contented breath that seemed to release the last of his lingering tension. He turned his head slightly to kiss your forehead, a silent thank you for being his anchor in the storm. The doubts that had plagued him earlier were now a distant memory.

The kiss he left against your lips was soft, almost sloppy. The physical and mental strain he's been under from Real Madrid and the Euros suddenly registering. His body begging for sleep.

"Let's get you outta here," you giggled. "I don't think I can carry you to bed if you fall asleep."

You press against the corner of his mouth, the action stopping the closing of his heavy eyelids. "Come on, Jude."

"Mmm...hold up..." Jude mumbled, eyes drifting shut as your lips brushed against his. Brow arching, his smirk prompting your eyes to roll. "...I'm not even tired."

"Uh-huh," stifling your giggle, you watch as Jude nods. His heavy eyes blinking before dropping down to your smile.

"'m not," he mumbled, his kiss missing your lips and settling on your chin.

A series of soft and light kiss lingered against your jaw, drifting to your shoulder. As much as he tried to fight off the comfortable sleeping tugging at him, Jude couldn't resist. By the time he reached your lips, a tired and goofy smile stretched across Jude's lips.

"Alright," he relented. "Let's go, but we gonna finish this in the morning."

"I'm sure we will," you smiled.

You place a final kiss against his lips. The brushing of your nose against his pulling out the smile that left you the victim of constant butterflies and euphoria. Before Jude knew it, the words slipped out.

"I love you," he murmured, the words hanging in the air between you like a delicate promise. "Thanks for this."

The words halted your movement of slipping from beneath him, your eyes widening slightly in surprise. It was the first time he had said it aloud. You had never pressured him for those words, knowing that he showed his love in countless other ways. Just as you did for him.

"I love you too, Jude," you replied as his lips found your forehead.

Letting his lips pass over your nose, Jude pushed himself.

[queen-of-fanfics]

I Told You To Stay

Pairing: Peter Pan x Reader

Prompt: Peter told you to stay.

A/N: Ayoooo lol I'm alive. Anywho Y'ALL I GRADUATED COLLEGE and the first thing I accomplished after was writing this fanfic. How have y'all been? Now I have some free time and a desk job so I have time to write more. I literally got the idea for this scenario from a dream I had. So... This one gets a little heated but nothing explicit.

I Told You To Stay Part 2

"Where do you think you're going?" Peter teases you as he grabs your arm to spin you around.

You were the second Lost Girl to have ever made it to the island. The first will always be Wendy. Wendy continues to be the mother figure around the island while you were free to run off hunting and exploring with the Lost Boys. You could never shake the feeling that either Wendy hated you or envied you. She would be stuck cooking and caring for the boy while you were almost like a sister. You two never got along too well, the feeling of competition was always there.

The second that you came to the island and met everyone, it was no surprise that Peter was the one that caught your eye. 

However, you were always hesitant to let any hope blossom in you since you thought that Peter and Wendy were together. And if they weren’t, she would have first dibs on him anyway. But that fact never stopped your crush and admiration of him from growing. Day in and day out, you were running through the forests with him and protecting the Lost Boys together. 

Tonight was a quiet and warm night and everyone had had their dinners and was heading to bed. Wendy had made dinner and stayed back at the camp to clean up. You were heading towards your cabin before Peter grabbed your arm.

“You aren’t going to bed already, are you?” Peter asked with his usual smirk.

“Why, huh? You got something in mind worth my while?”

“Only one way to find out, I suppose.” He hides his smile from you as he leads you into the forest. That leads to where you are now. Running through the trees and climbing up the cliff as Peter is bounding off in front of you.

Coming to a stop behind Peter, you drop your hands to your knees and your head drops to start gasping for air. “Are we there yet? I feel like my lungs are going to explode!”

All of a sudden you’re squealing in delight because Peter ran over to you and scooped you into the air, carrying you bridal style. He takes off flying and your arms shoot out and wrapped around his neck. 

“What are you doing?!” 

“Taking you up to see the stars!” He yelled over the whistling wind as you continued laughing until tears formed in your eyes. 

Daring to peek over his shoulders, you gasp at the beautiful aerial view of the island before he dives and does a giant loop in the air. Hugging him close, you shove your face into his neck and breathe in his scent. Though the night was cool, you felt warm against him. Wanting this moment to last forever but you know it can’t, you decide that you will hold this memory so you can always relive this happiness that you feel. 

Feeling dizzy either from the adrenaline or from him, you rest your head against him and press a soft kiss on his neck. 

Suddenly, Peter tosses you lightly into the air and you are airborne before he catches you but now your position has changed. Now you are sitting, straddling his hips, as his hands come to your behind to carry your weight. Your arms wrap around his neck again but now you are face-to-face with him. 

As a blush covers your face, you whisper, “Well hi there.” 

He gives you a small smile as he looks at your thorough hooded eyes, “Much better don’t you think? Now I can see you.” 

You sit there, chest to chest with breaths mingling, completely suspended in the air over a cliff. “What are we doing, Y/N?” His whisper caresses your skin and he leans in just a little bit closer.

“What do you mean?” You can’t help but do the same, almost like a string pulling you to him.

“You know exactly what I mean. Have you casted a spell on me? Making me dream of you every night and thinking of you every minute the sun is up? Have you made yourself my personal magnet to me so I can never not be near you? Are you bewitching me?” He continues to whisper as one of his hands drags up your body and grips the back of your neck, pulling you in closer until your noses are barely touching. 

Your breaths are coming out shaking but your fingers find their way to his hand and you tighten your hold, desperately keeping him close. 

“What if it’s you that is playing with my head?”

Your lips are brushing against each other but not quite touching. Your brain fogs with desire but it’s all pulled away from you as Peter abruptly pulls away and starts flying back to land.

“Wha-” You’re dizzy from the sudden change but you aren’t able to be stable on your feet before Peter is hurriedly pulling you through the trees. Silently giggling and running through the forest, your heart is beating out of your chest. 

Coming to a clearing, you see a small and simple log cabin sitting by itself. There are a few steps leading up to a porch that surrounds the little cabin. 

“Where are we, Peter?”

“This is my place.” He finally slows down to a stop.

He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you as he shoves his face into the crook of your neck. The movement pulls a giggle out of your throat but you don’t take your eyes off the cute cottage.

“I thought you had a tent back at the campsite with everyone else, hm? Are you keeping secrets from us now?” You tease.

“I always have secrets, don’t you know. But this is my own quiet place. I come here when I need to think. Or when I’m scheming.” He tickles your sides and gives your neck a quick kiss before he straightens. “Come on, let’s go inside.” He takes your hand and walks you into the cabin. 

The inside of the cabin matches its look on the outside. Comfortable. Simple. Nothing extravagant. The main room is open. One side seems to act as a dining room with a large table with a few chairs beside it. The other side of the room has a matching large table but this table is covered in maps, scrolls, trinkets, and many other items you did not recognize. You see a door towards the back of the cabin which you could tell leads to a bedroom.  

“Here, let me get you some water before you pass out on me.” 

But before Peter could take a step or before you could even respond, a voice calls out from the back room.

“Peter darling? Did you just get home?”

The blood drains from your face and your eyes grow to saucers as you see Wendy walk out of the back room. Your ears started ringing and it feels as though everything is happening so fast yet so slowly. 

Peter marches over to Wendy and angrily argues with her though you couldn’t hear anything over the muffling in your ears. “What are you doing here? Who said you could be here?”

“What are you talking about, baby? Don’t be like that.” 

Wendy tries to run her hands up Peter’s front side but her hands do not get far before he grabs her hands and throws them off of him. 

Your eyes shoot back and forth between Peter and Wendy and you could hear yourself mumbling, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t-” You hadn’t realized that you were backing up until you felt the front door hit your back. 

Before you knew it, Peter was in front of you. All you could do was stare up at him with your heart ready to leap out of your chest. You were confused and hurt and scared and you wanted to be mad. But looking up at him. With his face soft and full of worry. All you could do was trust. Trust in what, you weren’t sure. But a wave of calmness fell over you as you looked at him and his hands came up to softly grip your shoulders. 

Peter was gently moving you through the cabin and you could hear Wendy protesting but you couldn’t clear your head enough to hear what she was saying. Peter leads you to the back room which is his bedroom. He sits you on his bed and whispers to you, “Stay here.” 

“Peter, I can go. I should’ve known you two were together. I shouldn’t be here, I can go.” But before you could make a move for the door, Peter grips your face gently but firmly, “I said ‘stay here’. I will figure this out. I’m not with her. She isn’t welcome here. You. Stay. Here.” 

Peter slammed the door behind him as he left and all you could do was sit on the bed as you were told. Looking around the room, there wasn’t much there to keep you entertained. There was a nightstand by the bed with a few nicknacks on it. A desk with papers covered in writing you couldn’t read. No pictures. No posters. Nothing. Twiddling your thumbs, you tried to not overthink. You sat as patiently as you could but as the minutes ticked by and their angry whispering didn't stop, your anxiety started to kick up.

What if he is lying? Why would she just randomly be here? She’s comfortable enough coming in and out of his place like that. He could just be telling me what I want to hear. Of course, they’re together. Even a blind person could see that they were together. When did I become so dumb?! I need to get out of here. 

Your breathing starts to become more rapid as your mind starts spiraling. Looking around the room, there was only one door, and that led back to the main room where Peter and Wendy are. The only other thing in the room was a window that sat above the desk. That was your ticket out. You thank the stars that you weren’t on an upstairs floor or anything or else this escape plan was going to be harder than you thought.

Swinging the window wide enough for your body to fit through, you quietly climbed up onto the table, careful not to disturb anything, and started to push out. You managed to make your way out but you accidentally made a loud thump as your body hit the back deck. Before you could stop and think about what to do, you jumped to your feet and took off running into the forest. 

You ran until your lungs burned and ran some more. All around you were trees, trees, and more trees. Everything looked the same yet you didn’t recognize where you were. “Shit I should have been paying attention on the way here. Where the fuck am I?”

Coming to a stop, you drop your hands to your knees to try and catch your breath. After a few deep breaths, you stand up tall and prepare to take off again, at a more reasonable pace this time that you’re far enough away.

But before you could head off, something flies into you and you go slamming back into a tree. A warm, hard body pushes up against you and holds you flush against the tree with no room to escape. It’s still too dark in the night and the trees are blocking the moonlight so you can’t see what has you pinned. You start wiggling around and try to use your hands to push yourself free but a hand wraps around your wrists and pins them above your head. Something comes close to your ear and you could feel the anger radiating from this figure.

“I thought I told you to stay.”

I Told You To Stay Pt. 2

[tehrevving]

Did you have a scenario of Vincent getting condoms? The idea of this tall brooding man purchasing is funny.

You know what Anon, I hadn’t actually thought of a scenario when I wrote that chapter, but it sounds like fun, let’s do it! (Tumblr exclusive for now. I’ll get this on Ao3 eventually lol)

18+, with spoilers for Chaos Theory Chapter 17.

It is far too close to the planned departure time when Cid finally relents and stops arguing. The man’s insistence on always needing to have the last word made the entire navigation discussion an utter nightmare. Eventually Vincent had just walked out, heading down the airstairs without saying a word. He has things to do, well one important thing that he needs to do before departure, though he is extremely reluctant to actually go through with it. 

He’s still somewhat blindsided about what had happened last night. He hadn’t planned on taking his clothes off and showing you everything that he’d been hiding. He hadn’t expected your reaction, kissing across his scars instead of reacting with repulsion or disgust. He can’t stop thinking about how good your hands and lips had felt on his body. You had brought his monsters to the surface, instinct simmering just underneath his skin. He had been able to handle it, everything had been fine, until you had soaked his chest and turned him into an animal. 

He had almost lost control and it’s not good enough. He had been so close to giving in. Somehow, he’d ended up with the head of his cock rubbing bare against your folds. You had been so wet for him, slick, hot and desperate. You had been begging verbally for him to fuck you, and your body had been recklessly trying to pull him inside. He can’t suppress the shudder that shoots down his spine, suddenly feeling a cold chill in the hot, coastal heat as he remembers everything. He doesn’t know how he is supposed to resist you, how he’s supposed to stop thinking about you. He doesn’t understand how you make him lose control, or why he doesn’t seem to mind when you cause it. 

He needs to be prepared, he needs to have options. You have previously mentioned having a materia, but just a mention is not enough. He is not going to make assumptions or take unnecessary risks. He is sure that you have also made preparations, but he can’t rely on that either. 

So, reluctantly, Vincent enters the first pharmacy that he comes across, to buy condoms. 

The woman behind the counter stares as he walks in, her head craned back to look up at him. Her eyes widen as they follow his attire and take in his general strangeness. He tries to relax his shoulders, he doesn’t want her to think he might be dangerous. 

“E-excuse me Sir,” she stammers, managing to find her voice half way through a practised spiel. “Can I help you with anything?”

“No,” Vincent replies dismissively, walking straight past her. He hates that he was rude, but he will not see her again. He does not have time or the patience to make small talk. 

The aisles are labelled with the ridiculous, standard font for this era. He can read it of course, but the typeface is looped, slanted and difficult for him to understand at a glance. Frustration fills him, but he quickly finds what he is looking for, the aisle labelled ‘family planning.’ He tries to not let his disgust for the term show on his face. 

There is far more choice than he was expecting. His eyes scan over an overwhelmingly large assortment of boxes, the brands unfamiliar to him. He sighs, he had hoped this would be straight forward. He remembers the brand that he used to buy, from a past life far too long ago, but of course that no longer exists. 

He scans the aisle, surprised at the assortment. Flavoured. He wonders if you would prefer for him to taste like—his lip curls with distaste—banana or strawberry. Definitely not.

His eyes find a box in the next row, the words ‘extra lubricated’ written in large font on the packaging. He gives a small smirk underneath his cowl. That certainly will not be required. If anything, he may encounter the opposite problem, but he’s not concerned, he will just use his tongue to remove any excess if you end up too slippery. He forces himself to look back at the aisle and focus. He does not have time to be distracted by thoughts of your taste.

There are multiple boxes advertising patterns, boasting that they are, ‘ribbed for her pleasure.’ He is not familiar with those. Would that even be pleasurable for a woman? He’s not sure, but then you had enjoyed his glove last night, so maybe there is some merit. He considers purchasing some, but then decides it would be strange. He is perfectly capable of pleasing you without any external aid, and does not want to imply otherwise. 

He keeps looking, eyes glazing past words like, ‘tingling,’ ‘long lasting’, and ‘minty.’ Modern people truly are degenerates. Finally, right at the bottom, where he has to bend at the knees to be able to inspect them, he finds normal ones. He selects a smaller sized box advertising a reasonable amount of lubrication and a larger than average length. That will do. This has all already wasted too much time. 

The woman at the counter gives him an extremely funny look as she rings up his purchase. He supposes he can forgive her. He probably does look ridiculous, an inhuman monster purchasing condoms. Her eyes narrow when he pays with coins instead of the plastic cards that everyone now seems to use. She struggles to count the change for him, the world truly has gotten worse in his absence. 

He walks back towards the Bronco, squinting in the sunlight, new purchase weighing heavy in his pocket. The sunlight is harsh, burning at the pale skin of his face. He disappears as much as he can into his cowl. It is still uncomfortable being outside, even though he has managed to grow more used to it over the past few months. 

He spots Barret as he turns the corner to head to the dock. The man beckons Vincent over and he sighs, tempted to just keep walking past the man staring daggers at him from behind dark sunglasses. 

“If you hurt her,” Barret grunts, gesturing towards the plane with his head. “I’ll shoot you.”

The man is clearly serious. “Noted,” Vincent replies. He appreciates Barret’s protectiveness but it is not required. If anyone ever hurts her, even accidentally, well, Vincent was a Turk, he knows how to make people disappear. 

Thankfully, Barret dismisses him with a wave of his gun arm. Vincent walks past him, thankful the conversation had not been excessively painful. 

Vincent walks down to the dock and immediately sees you, standing underneath one of the plane’s broken wings speaking to Aerith. You are even prettier today than you had been yesterday, eyes bright and clear. Vincent can see the pleasure he gave you last night in the relaxed set to your shoulders, and the slight twitch of your thighs as your legs move, it fills him with a selfish pride. 

Your face lights up when you catch sight of him and you wave. He pauses as you walk over to him. You stop in front of him, looking up at him with those sweet eyes and a soft smile. He wants to pull you into his arms, but he stops himself, though he can feel some of the tension leave his shoulders now that he’s close to you.

“Can you help Aerith and I reach something?” you ask, voice sweet before you trail off. “We’re both too short,” you pout. 

He nods, hiding a smile behind his cowl, though he thinks you can see through his hidden expression. He could never deny you anything.

“Thanks,” you smile, turning around with a wave of your hand, a gesture for him to follow. He falls into step behind you, immediately distracted by the sway of your hips and the curve of your ass. He is going to have you tonight, even if he has to stage a commotion to get you alone.

[localkiss]

Princess Sprinkles!

Vendetta Chris Redfield x fem reader!

cw: dd/lg, creampie, squirting (guys idk how squirting feels like....), multiple orgasms (reader), fingering, pet names, praise kink, oral fixation (reader obv), light mentions of breeding, soft dom!Chris!!, afab terms used, size kink ish.., Chris being silly, Chris being a lil mean one time, and some fluff :3 !! — Lmk if I missed anything.

wc: 2005 !! (🤭 birth year go crazyy LOL!)

notes: if you don't like ddlg just um. Idk don't read 💀!! I fr try not to make the reader teeny tiny but like dude Chris is huge asf.. size kink go brrr 🧎🏻‍♀️! I'll be making reader a lil squishy from now on bc I'm not skinny either ☝🏻.Also I used to watch the Bratz babyz movie on repeat sm that the disc got ruined 😭😭 soo.. yes that part is directly from yours truly! Not proof read 😵‍💫

tags: @argreion, @rigorwhoring bc ily guys 😇!!

"Daddy!" You squeal as soon as Chris picks you up and spins you around. Making your fluffy mini pleated skirt twirl upwards.

Chris hoists your pretty body over his shoulders and pats you on the butt, practically skipping towards your shared bedroom. It looks like someone dumped all the squishmallows possible into the master bedroom. He can't help but think of you every time he sees a stuffed animal. Shits rooted in his brain. Stuffies = his angel!

Yeah, he might have to fight with them to make room for himself, but he wouldn't trade it for any other way. He doesn't actually fight them, knowing you'd throw a hissy fit and say "Hate daddy! Forever 'n ever!" Chris's heart shatters like glass whenever you say that.

He's grown softer because of you and those little threats of yours make his heart drop down to the core of the Earth. Would he admit it to team Alpha? No. Never in a million years. But they've got eyes and ears, they're not Patrick Star. Dumb and living under a rock.

Lately he's been covered in hickeys and cute little doodles that're supposed to be like tattoos by yours truly. Goes to work and gets teased by his squad, telling him how you've got him wrapped around your pretty little finger. How much you've changed him, for the better. He always shrugs them off, putting them back to work.

You for sure made Chris cut back on smoking a fuck ton. Constantly crying about how the stench will ruin your stuffies and the coat the walls of the house with a film. You're right, that's for sure. And the fact that second hand smoke is even worse is what clicks it into his head for him. His baby. His sweetheart, could end up dying because of his stupid ass habits.

Chris has lost too many of his men because of his habits. Too many good men. You are his savior. He pounds away the guilt into your needy little cunt. Constantly craving him. Needing him. Loving him. Honest to God, he needs that more than anything in this lifetime.

"Sweetheart," he sighs and sets you down onto the bed. "I missed you. Whatcha been up to?"

"Slept 'n colored and um... Ate some snackies, watch movie, 'n had lotsa juice!" You mumble, eyes glancing around the entire room. Using your hands to talk, as your words get slurred when you're in this state of mind.

Chris presses a faint kiss to your temple and noses down to the underside of your ear. Carefully holding the back of your head with his hand. He gives you more kisses and blows raspberries into your ear, making you squeal and swat at him.

"That's good baby. Glad you had a productive day." Chris smiles at you lovingly.

Your heart then swoons, making you feel all mushy inside. Praise gets him everything from you. Just like you crying out for daddy gets you everything from him!

He lazily starts to unbuckle his belt, pulling it through the loops. Setting it down on the bedside table with a thud. He starts to undo his fly, pushing his pants all the way down, kicking out of them.

Only dressed in his boxers and shirt, he engulfs you with a hug. Nuzzling into your neck, feeling your hands grab ahold of his shirt.

"Daddy?"

"Just recharging honey, hold on." His voice is deep and gruffy, sending chills up your spine.

You lay there, body buzzing with warmth as his figure presses you into the mattress. His hips shift and move against yours, causing you to gasp.

Thighs squeezing against his fit waist and he sighs into your neck. "Daddy's not charge. He excited..." Your fingers tug on his shirt and he sits up.

"Off?" Pointing to his shirt and you clumsily remove your own shirt and skirt. Now both of you are only in your underwear. Well, you still have your white thigh highs on, but still.

He presses your thighs up to your chest and settles in the middle as best as he can. Feeling his skin on your skin feels like heaven. Makes your panties wet, which he's noticed but doesn't want to say anything about it. Knowing you get all shy and embarrassed when he points things out like that. He likes it. Thinks it's cute that you want skin ship.

"So pretty baby," he pushes his hips forward. His cock catching onto your clit with each slow roll. "Pretty pussy, pretty tits. Pretty girl. My pretty girl."

Chris leans back and gets rid of his boxers. Pulling your panties up to slip his cock between your folds. Laying back down on top of you. Humping you instead of fucking you.

You can't complain, his tip his pressing against your clit nicely. Your hips rolling up to meet his and his dick slips inside.

He bottoms out immediately with a growl. "Baby. Did I say you could put it in?" Chastising you with a rough thrust, acting like it's your fault his dick slipped inside of your tiny hole.

"Daddy, didn't mean to. Not m'fault," you whine out, kicking your legs.

"S'okay. Daddy will make it all better." Chris presses a kiss to your forehead and acts like he's going to pull it out. Only to harshly thrust it back into you. "Fuck, princess. She's not wanting to let me go. You hear her crying for me?"

Moaning, you dig your nails into his back, "Daddy, daddy, never leave," you start babbling already.

He groans and rabbits his hips, making the bed rock against the wall.

"Wait, daddy, stuffies no want look, turn," you try to speak as he continues to fuck you like he hates you.

"Shit, okay baby. Hold on," he grunts and turns them around as best as he can. "Better now?"

You nod and go in for a kiss and he meets you halfway. Drooling into your mouth and your tongues swirl together before you suck on his. Moaning as he drives himself deeper inside of you. Squelching sounds and skin on skin echoing in the bedroom. Surely you guys won't get a noise complaint this time!

He spits into your mouth and smears it all over your lips with his thumb, pushing it into your mouth. Who needs a pacifier when you've got daddy's thumb?

Watching your eyes flutter shut and your lips wrapping around his thumb, it sets him off. His other hand driving down between you both and rubbing harshly at your puffy nub.

Biting down, you furrow your eyebrows. Breathing quickly and moaning softly. "Close," you hum around his digit. Sucking on it as you get closer and closer.

Chris's dick hits a special spot inside of you and your body shakes underneath him. Pussy trying to push out his cock as a clear liquid shoots out of you.

"Goddamn, baby, squirting on me, mmhh—fuck..." His hips falter and he dumps his cum inside of you. Resting his body on you, burying you into the bed. Making sure his cum never leaves you.

Chris pulls his thumb out of your mouth and kisses you feverishly. "Putting a baby in you, s'that alright princess?" Your pussy agrees by clenching around his thickness.

But he's acting like you've got a choice, since he's already done the deed. He pulls you up into his arms and you guys slowly make your way to the bath. Still connected and full.

Keeping you in his arms, he reaches down to turn on the water and put in the plug. You giggle and some of his cum starts to spurt out and drip down his balls. He settles in the tub with you on his lap, grabbing the soap to fill it with bubbles.

Chris slowly lifts you off of his length and sets you between his legs. Back pressed against his hairy chest. While his cum dribbles out of you.

His fingers make their way down to your sensitive cunt and slowly dips them inside. "Shh, I know baby," pressing soft kisses to your cheek as you whine and claw weakly at his forearms. The other one is keeping you pressed against him.

"Daddy's helping you baby," he starts to curl his fingers and your legs shake. Clearly overstimulated from earlier. But Chris starts to be a bit greedy, smacking his palm against your pretty little pearl.

Throwing your head back against his shoulder, he coaxes you into another orgasm. With the disguise of helping you get his cum out. If anything, he's trying to fuck it back into. Serious about putting a mini him or you inside of your tummy.

"Baby, almost there. Y'got it princess.. mmh.. cum one more time for daddy? Promise I'll clean you up and get us some donuts with sprinkles on 'em, just the way you like." Man, he's even bribing you! Daddy knows what you really want right now. So you whimper in response.

"Daddy, mmhhff... Daddy oh god! Please, please, please!" Your heels dig into the tub as the water fills it. His lips sucking and biting into your neck is what makes you cream around his digits.

Body convulsing and breath raggedy and higher as you come down from your second high of the night. Chris grabs your face and kisses you all over, mumbling praises into your skin. "Good girl, daddy's so proud of you."

Then, he takes his time washing you off, letting you play with the rubber duckies and splashing water onto him. Putting bubbles on his beard and making one for yourself.

"I daddy! See?" You pout and furrow your eyebrows, taking a drag of an imaginary cigarette. Chris rolls his brown eyes and takes the imaginary cigarette and puts it out.

"Babies can't do that stuff, remember? Only daddies can do that, silly baby girl." He wipes the bubbles off of your face and his, nibbling on your earlobe. Making chewing noises, "Om nom nom, my baby tastes so yummy!"

You squeal and press your face into your shoulder. "Daddy! Got wash so we can eat nummy donut! Donut sprinkle!"

He hums and gets to work. Gently washing your back and hair as you wash your front side and down to your toes. Chris hauls you up and he turns on the shower to wash your hair and his. God knows he needs this shower after training his new squad mates today.

Chris washes his own figure as you cup the water in your tiny hands and splash it up in the air. Watching you pretend you have powers as the water runs down your arms and to the tips of your fingers.

"Alright princess. Let's go get some sprinkled donuts," he pats your heart shaped ass with a chuckle. Wrapping you in a fuzzy towel, he gets to work drying you off. It reminds you of that Bratz babyz movie. Sure reminds him of it too. From how often you guys watched it, the CD stopped working and you threw a fit.

So of course, he bought a couple more, just in case. It's not like he doesn't have the money for it. So why not keep his baby sated with something so simple as a 2000s movie? He even bought you some Bratz dolls and monster high ones. Likes how you squeal and jump around in excitement every time he buys you something so simple as a doll. Makes him happy.

"Princess sprinkles and daddy sprinkles! Getting donut sprinkles! Sprinkles, sprinkles, sprinkles!" You laugh as he puts on your blue matching cinnamoroll pajamas that he spent fifty dollars on. Worth it in his opinion. Looks so cute on you, he can't help but press kisses all over your cheeks.

"Alright, alright, princess sprinkles. Let's go get in the car. Daddy'll buy you all the chocolate sprinkled donuts there is at the bakery." Chris's heart thumps in his chest. Yeah, there's a sprinkled shaped hole with a sprinkle version of you in his heart.

[saltofmercury]

* waving* heelllloooo, just want to say thank you for the “ break in” series! I love König and Civilian!readers, there’s not enough non military reader stories out there so i am always hunger for more.can I put in a request? I don’t know why this idea pops into my head and not sure if Soap has a younger sister, imagine his sister had a crush on König from meeting him during military family day ( im sure theres no such event lol) or some off duty team outing. Something like..

Sister: who’s that really big guy there johnny?

Soap, knowing his sis too well : oh no you don’t.. dont go there darling

Sis: but he is so cute like a huge costco teddy bear..very huggable

All the while König overheard the who convo, flattered +embarrassed + in disbelief

Thank you! If it’s too much just ignore me its ok 😂

Pairing: König x f!reader ft. Johnny + Ghost

Summary: You tag along to Johnny's party.

A/N: Thank you @sofasoap

"The Favorite MacTavish"

“You’re still on the fastest route.”

The navigation on loop. You focused on what you could tone out Johnny with.

Looking out the window, a blur of cars turned into a blur of bricks, that in turn ended up to just dirt and then open land. Dust. You’ve been sitting as a passenger princess the entire ride there. Johnny but insisting on lecturing you about what was expected of you.

It felt more like briefing you if you were being honest.

“I’m dead serious ya hear?” Johnny had turned and pointed a finger to you.

“You got to tone it down with Ghost.” “You were off ya trolley last time, I told ya to leave the poor man alone.”

You smiled. “It wasn’t anything too bad.” 

Your mind flashed back to the last get together Johnny and his friends had. You had met the legendary “Ghost” that Johnny had worked with. A man with a skull face covering, taller and larger than any other of his teammates. A deep set British accent. (You and Johnny still argue if it’s Southern or Manchester.)

Ghost kind of bothered you that he was at a party. The man had radiated big fuck off vibes from you. It made no sense for him to be here. 

All you saw was… someone crying for attention.. Or even a little competition.

You approached Ghost with a deal, if he were to out drink you, you would shut Johnny up the entire night, and if you were to outdrink him, he would join the group for 20 minutes. 

The little game turned dangerous and it wasn’t until you had almost bested him in the tenth beer of the night that he almost tapped out. Almost beat by a MacTavish. It didn’t help that you were flirting with him a bit when he started to become sloppy, which you think became in your best interest.

One of the other teammates had lost it.

“Ghost is going to lose!”

Ghost looked loopy. Not even his skull painted covering could hide that. He ended up going to the cooler, bringing out 3 beers, chugging them one by one, and then remained in his stoic composure. It was truly a sight.

All of Johnny’s teammates never let that one go.

“Can’t believe Johnny’s little sister thought she could out drink Ghost.”

“I can’t believe she had him stuttering. Never heard the LT at a loss for words.”

“I think I like his sister more than Johnny.”

Johnny never lived it down, and never heard the end of it from Ghost.

“I actually don't know why I bothered bringing ya.” He continued.

You missed your older brother. It was hard seeing him a few times a year. With any opportunity to see him, including riding along to party with his teammates, you took. It helped that he had a soft spot for you.

“I won't make any promises, but I’ll leave Ghost alone.”

*

It wasn’t until an hour later that you had arrived. You remembered what Johnny had said. “No teasin’ Ghost.” “No trying to out drink anyone.” “Behave!”

You both walk up into a small beige house. There’s a plain white metal gate in front of it, but no live plants, just dirt. Endless dirt, dust, and rocks surrounding it, and a few other SUVs, Jeeps, and sedans.

You walk inside, right behind Johnny, mumbling in your head—

“No drinking, no ghosting.”

How annoying.

Once inside, you’re greeting everyone behind Johnny.

Gaz looks at you. “Well if it isn’t Ghost’s favorite little sister!”

You smile. “No ghosting tonight.”

Immediately looking toward Johnny, who was nodding in approval.

*

Much later when you're inside that you see him, along with a brand new set of faces that you aren’t familiar with.

There’s a lady with a small ponytail, some guy on a tablet and sunglasses on, and a guy who's got a black face mask on. This particular individual is more distant, pushed further away from everyone else. Looks big, bigger than Ghost. 

He’s not alone, he’s got some other guy next to him talking about some game he was playing on his phone.

“Steamin’ Jesus” you think to yourself. How did this massive guy end up here?

You grab a hold of Johnny,

“Johnny, who’s that over there?”

Johnny had barely taken a sip of his 3rd beer before his eyes went wide. 

“Aw Jesus Christ, no you don’t. Don’t you dare go there.” he says, grabbing a hold of your wrist. 

“Oh for fucks sake, I’m just asking who the guy is!” 

“Haud yer weesht! It's the same ol’ script with every single one of my teammates I swear to god.”

“Is he new?”

“He’s not with us.” He stops for dramatic effect. 

Whispers- “That group over there is a different team.”

Oh. 

The big guy is holding an electrolyte drink as opposed to any alcohol. He takes up the entire chair and he’s polite, nodding his head to his teammate, but quickly glancing back and forth towards you and Johnny.

“And I swear to god, you better not think of stepping over there, I’ll get Ghost to restrain you.”

You raised your eyebrows at him.

“You said no Ghostin…”

Johnny pulled you a little closer to him, then quietly (his case of quiet) says

 “Do you know what those guys do?”

“Military?”

“Christ on a bike… those there are contracted killers.”

You snort.

“Yeah fuckin' right Johnny and what do you call yourself? Saints?”

“I swear you’re so daft. Don’t go near them, stay with what you know.”

“I just want to introduce myself to them, it would be rude no?”

The guy in the mask looked harmless. He wasn’t drinking, he was among friends, he was simply waiting for someone to approach him.

*

The entire night you keep thinking of ways to get over it. You’ve got plenty of liquid courage in you now though.

“Just because he’s bigger than the rest of you, you’re intimidated.” The liquid courage was bubbling up inside you. 

“Fucking hell, would you drop it?” Johnny says

“I just want to talk to him, Johnny!”

You made your way over to him.

Johnny’s eyes looked like they could burst out of their sockets.

“Hi, how are you? You know what, you don’t seem bad at all, you just seem big, but that's ok.”

The man looked at you wide eyed, beneath his mask formed some crinkle surrounding his eyes.

“I just wanted to let you know that you don't intimidate me, but quite frankly you encourage me to give you a hug.”

He smiled now, you could see it.

“You’re like a huge teddy bear even, have you been to the states? They got a whole warehouse full of teddy bears the size of you.”

A small laugh from him and his fingers running through his hair.

“In fact, I kind of wish I had you as my own size for a teddy bear… what do you say?”

Before he could respond, you were yanked up, thrown over someone’s shoulders.

“That’ll do mini MacTavish..” A British accent. Ghost was hauling you away.

You felt dizzy, and kept your eyesight on the big man.

“I MEAN it! You are not intimidating you're just in need of a hug.”

[hughiecampbelle]

In Another Life I Did Everything Right (Roman Roy x Baby!Roy)

Character/s: Roman, Connor, Kendall, Shiv, Logan

Word Count: 1,761

Inspired By: the popsicle I was eating lol

Requested: Can you write something with Roman and baby!roy? Whatever you want to do is fine. I really love your baby!roy writing and I adore Roman - anon

A/N: I took a lot of creative liberty lol, I hope you don't mind! Feedback is always appreciated my loves! 💜💜💜

It’s always the same memory, the same dream, that comes to him when the weather is warm, and humid, and he falls into a fitful sleep. It’s a realization that comes to him each time he sees your face: how young you are. Not the chubby cheeks of childhood, yet you remain untouched by adolescence. Though he knows he was a much younger man at the time, he is all grown up now. He feels his age, how old he must seem to you, how worn. Tired. He stands in the grass, the sun bright and willing to burn. He holds two plastic pouches. He knows what they are. He knows what you’re going to say, how worried you are that they’re beginning to melt: popsicles. They wouldn’t have been allowed in the house at all. They wouldn’t have made their way into the shopping cart, nor found a home in the freezer, had it not been for Connor. All his doing. He used to know the story, but tonight he can’t recall. Did you ask him for them? Were they a surprise? How could they have been hidden so well from the disapproving eyes of your father? It doesn’t really matter, he knows, but so much of this dream has become lost to him. It’s been so many years. He can no longer rely on his memory. This day has been contorted over the years, malleable and pliable, until, as far as he knows, it no longer resembles what truly happened. You’re on the pavement, legs dangling off the edge of the pool. The water is clear and, unfortunately, not as cool as you’d like. You wait, hand outstretched, for your treat. He makes you pick. Left, right, left right, left. Finally, you choose left. He smiles. Not then, but now. How big that decision must’ve felt, how harrowing it was to decide, blindly, the flavor. Older and wiser puts things into perspective. Time is funny that way. He’s grateful you remain untouched by this. Let this be your big decision. He tears yours open: orange. There is no mourning, there is no disappointment, though there is a mutual understand red is the best. He holds his up to the light, the wrapper giving way to a dark inky color. He’s glad you picked what you did: no one really liked grape all that much. 

He wants to talk to you, to ask you questions, to understand where it all went wrong, but he is limited. The dialogue has been chosen for you. This is a reenactment, a loop, a labyrinth of muscle memory he must abide by. He settles beside you, legs crossed, listening to your teeth break through the ice and syrup. He wasn’t a spiritual person. He didn’t believe in God or Heaven or Hell. He didn’t have anyone or thing to turn to when things were hard, when times were tough. Sometimes he wished he was. A different person who could pray and believe and have faith. The cynic in him thought it was bullshit. The optimist, weak and tender, fought back as best as it could. There has to be something, right? There has to be something after all this? Life, mortal life, was so small in comparison to the time before and time after. How could there be nothing? He wants to ask you what you think, if there is God out there and, if so, how vengeful they must be. You were young, yes, but you grew up. There were so many opportunities for him to ask you, your views and opinions, and he didn’t. He wasn’t thinking as he was now. He didn’t have the perspective. Instead your voice slices through his thoughts, a knife to watermelon, it all becomes a sweet, sticky mess in the middle of his cheat. Where’s mom? You don’t have to clarify you mean your mother and not his. Logan’s latest ex-wife. They lasted longer than anyone expected, separating just a few weeks prior, when Spring turned to Summer. He speaks, and though he cannot hear himself, he knows his lines. He wishes now he’d been nicer. Kinder. Instead he is full of teenage angst and decides a snide comment is the best option to ease your growing unease given their recent split. Like all of your mothers, Connors and his and yours, they’ve left their children in the care of your father, though he understand this thought is cheap and really, only Connors mother couldn’t help it. Still, two out of three? 

Did you see her today? You watch him, and wait, and your eyes are big, and there is melted popsicle down the front of your shirt. Yes, he admits, for a moment, but refuses any further details. Mascara ran down her face. She wheeled two large suitcases out of their (now Logans) room and down the hall, towards the stairs. He’s not sure where she was going, or for how long, and he suspected you wondered the same thing. Were the popsicles, similar to the cake Logan had bought Connor, some sort of bargain? A peace offering? Sorry kid, mommy and daddy are splitting. Here’s some sugar! Was this Connor’s way of making things better? He noticed the absence of his older siblings lessening these recent months. He found Shiv helping you with your school work, patiently listening to you ramble on about grade school drama: Leah liked Tommy, but Tommy liked Madison, who wasn’t your friend anymore because she was no longer sitting at your table during lunch, so Tessa was your new best friend. Kendall, with whatever he did to busy himself all day, took his evenings to hang out with you, trying his best to have something in common with a ten year old. Connor, who had never been lacking in your life, became an even more involved presence. Wrapped up with his own affairs, and probably several affairs, Logan had little time for his youngest. So here he was, doing his part, hoping a little attention wouldn’t leave you screwed up like the rest of them. 

He wants to ask you what you think of all this. He should have, at the time, but he was uncomfortable. Uncomfortable that, finally, you were earning the Roy name. Your mother was just another wife, you were just another kid he didn’t like or want. You weren’t special, you weren’t going to change him. Uncomfortable because you were a child and children had big emotions. What if you cried? What if you got upset? He didn’t know how to stop it. He didn’t know how to help. You wouldn’t know it at the time (how could you?) but your mother would move on. She’d remarry a few years down the line, and have more children, and leave you behind. Her second husband wasn’t a fan of your father. By association, he wasn’t keen to you either. Roman never asked, even when you got older, how you were dealing with it all. Not just this, but everything. Adolescence. He figured, like the rest of them, you’d move on. Recover. Find your way. You couldn’t. You were in Logan’s custody sure, but it was her you wanted. Holidays, and birthdays, and events, you wanted her. Instead he decides the conversation is over. The in-between is murky. There are popsicles, there is this grimm realization, there is regret, and then what?

He isn’t sure what it is that keeps him reliving this day over the others. There were plenty of times he spent with you, though usually you were drinking, attempting to run away from the family, your bloodline, your future. He saw you so rarely, you were such a different person when he got the chance to really look at you, talk to you. Logan shipped you off to boarding school the school year after your mother leaves. It’s prestigious, and sterile, and ruins any of that person he’s sitting beside. Somewhere between here and then you changed. Not just growing up, though is any other big brother really prepared for their baby to get older? You grew harder, colder, bitter. You drank more. You disappeared often. Your grades suffered, though that kind of information was kept mostly between you and the school. Every so often, Connor would send out a group text saying he was going to visit you. Roman, at least, knew what that meant: you got into trouble and needed someone to clean up a mess you made. Everyone had grown up and adjusted as well as to be expected. They were waiting, impatiently, for you to catch up in maturity. You were a teenager expected to act like an adult, treated like a child. You begged Logan to come home. Your school was far away. It was lonely. It was brutal. But it was the best education anyone could ask for and he believed you were being a brat. 

You wanted to see your mother. It had been years, at that point, since you last saw her. Occasionally you’d receive a cold phone call, but that was all you were allotted. That’s the story, anyways. No one really knows why you went out that night, why it was so urgent, only that you were drinking and you weren’t wearing a seatbelt. They found the car wrapped around a pole. You took your place in the family mausoleum. As far as he knows, your mother doesn’t visit. But they do, all of them. This was years ago, a little over a decade. You’d be all grown up by now. He still sees you as a ten year old. He always will. Maybe he dreams this day, over every other, because it was before everything turned sour. Maybe he just likes the taste of popsicles. Either way, it’s always a treat. He wants to ask you everything he didn’t get the chance to, but he can’t, and soon he will wake up. He’ll wake up in a cold sweat and make a point to visit you sometime soon, taking this as a sign that you’re lonely and looking for company. For now, he looks at you, really looks, and takes you in. You’ve been talking this whole time about what you’ve been learning in school, what Shiv has been helping you with. He will nod. He was bored then, wondering who would take over babysitting duty, but he isn’t now. He soaks up every word. He misses your voice, your mannerisms. So much has changed since this day. So little has changed, too.

[twost3ps]

heard of an au about Adam being so traumatized by what happened, he just forgets everything and everyone in his life after he died.(Lucifer and Lilith, Eve, his kids, the angels, everyone and everything). He's not commander of the exorcist,just a representative of Heaven,

So I wanted to ask how would all of the angels react to that?

I'm assuming die as in like, post apple and not hazbin era.

Michael is devastated. At first he doesn’t believe it at all and tries to get Adam to remember but it’s just not working and is freaking Adam out. Like, he waited 900 years or so for Adam and him to meet again and rekindle their friendship. He visited Earth to watch over him sometimes (it was very rare), but never got to actually talk to him, only watching from afar. He knew he shouldn't talk to adam, and so he didn't. He got spotted once by Adam and fled immediately. He missed adam dearly though, he considered the man his first real friend. So finally meeting adam again to then find out adams memories of him are erased and gone took a large blow on him. Michael tries to make Adam as welcome as possible trying teach Adam himself how to integrate into heaven. He’s been out of the loop though for friendships so he comes off a bit pushy and demanding which irritates the very confused and lost Adam. But Michael likes to talk to Adam about what he was like in Eden and it gets Adam to welcome him a bit more. Michael tries to treat Adam the best that he can since he feels like he failed him, especially with the memory loss. Their relationship is.. kinda strained like this. Michael is trying but sucks at it, trying to make it like Eden. Their relationship don’t flow the same so yeah lol. It gets better but takes a lot of time and ass kicking from his brothers.

Gabriel is sad too. Not as sad as Mike, but he sympathies with him. He wasn't friends with Adam in Eden but, atleast for my au, he visits Adam and Eve on earth, especially in their further later life, sending some devine messages. He doesn't from a friendship per say with Adam, but he does kind of get get acquainted with him. They formed a lot of small talk and Gabe could see why Michael liked him. Although Adam doesn’t align with the man Michael had described (earth made him a lot more jaded and angry- untreated trauma and hate lol) He even visited on Adam's last day before Azrael collected him. Adam recognized him on his deathbed so Gabriel was surprised to see that Adam didn't know who he was when Adam finally acended. Gabriel's no secret keeper. He's the first to tell Adam what happened to him or the story he's most familiar with. He's really mean when he talks about lucifer or lilith, so he honselty gave Adam a very bad impression of them (very exaggerated on Gabes part), but he was kind when talking about Eve and his kids. (Gabe hated Lucifer’s push for free will especially as the messenger of gods will (free will vs gods will arguments go cray cray) and even before the fall the two has a lot of conflict which is why he he talks smack a lot abt them Lilith by extension. Gabriel’s also not one to hold back on his opinions no matter how friendly or bubbly he may seem.) Where Michael falls short on how Adam was on earth, Gabriel tells Adam about how he was like on earth and his family.

Raphael is curious and intrigued by adams' memory loss. Since Adam is kinda like a first case, he's not sure what to really do. And as the angel of healing he feels kind of responsible to heal Adam’s mind or something. He debates on whether he should go and try and help Adam remember the bad memories then so he can go and process them or if he should wait a bit longer and then help them process them. He makes Adam meditate and stuff and they have long therapy and talk sessions. It’s a slow build to get Adam to try and jog him memories but he doesn’t push much.

Uriel is kind of like Raph and is also intrigued on adams memory loss. He aids him in the study of Adam’s memory loss. He’s s a lot more clinical about it though and is pretty cold cold. He’s documents Adam’s behavior and what he does.

I wanna say Azrael is a soldier of Michael who the was given the title of angel of death (Azreal is a Powers and serves as a destroyer angel under Mike so yeye) and has no personal ties to Adam because of it. Only real tie is taking adams soul and sending it up. He is intruded by his cousin's reaction to Adam, especially Michael's. But he really doesn’t care at all for it.

[jinkoh]

my door is always open

kevin x gn!reader

part of my soulmate series

tags: soulmate au (sharing bruises), hurt/comfort, angst, neighbor/friend!kevin, yn has a cheating boyfriend (who is not kevin)

wc: 1.5k

a/n: i listened to younghoon's say something fancon performance on loop while writing this and maybe it shows lol

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The cold from the pavement crept through the fabric of your pants making you freeze. You knew you couldn’t stay out here forever, but going inside meant facing him and you weren’t ready, not yet. You’d had your suspicions for a while. But now the proof was on your neck in the shape of hickeys that someone else had left on his skin. It felt so calculated, making sure you knew without having to tell you, breaking your heart without having to be the one to bring it up. No, he was waiting it out, leaving the ball in your court. Perhaps he could even rid himself of feeling guilty if he just riled you up enough, staying calm and composed and winning himself the right to call you hysterical for lashing out. Sure, he was the one to hurt you first, but no need to verbally attack him, right? You could talk it out calmly—not that he’d feel like there was anything to talk about in the first place. Maybe he hurt your feelings, but that was something for you to come to terms with. He couldn’t always be the perfect boyfriend and act in the way you wanted him to; after all he was just a person and you wouldn’t make him apologize for being human now, would you?

It was always like this. And the saddest part was, you’d accepted it time and time again, apologized for every time he hurt your feelings just to keep him by your side. Because you loved him. Because he was your soulmate. And even now you were feeling the same way. You would have followed him anywhere, if only he hadn’t crossed this one line that was so visibly inexcusable that even you couldn’t bring yourself to bow your head. If it’d just been the growing suspicion it would have been one thing. You could have played it off as your mind playing tricks on you. But he’d decided to take away any room for interpretation, letting you carry the traces of his cheating on your skin for you and the whole world to see.

And even with all that, you felt like you wanted to forgive him; even now you didn’t want to give up on him. So, you sat on the pavement with the cold creeping into your bones, trying to drag out the confrontation for as long as you could, because as long as you didn’t go inside you wouldn’t have to make a decision between him and yourself. As long as you didn’t go inside you hadn’t lost either of the two.

“What are you doing out here? Forgot your keys?” Kevin’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

You wiped away your tears, hoping he hadn’t seen them through the flimsy light the streetlamp was casting over you. “No, nothing much. Just sitting here.”

Kevin looked at you for a moment longer before sitting down next to you on the pavement. His shoulder brushed against yours, just briefly, but the touch felt comforting. It made you feel less alone. Kevin had always had this effect on you from the moment you’d met him a few years ago. There was something genuine and kind about him that never failed to put you at ease. He didn’t make you feel anxious or second guess yourself all the time the way your soulmate did.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he eventually asked, looking straight ahead instead of burdening you with the weight of his gaze.

“I don’t know.” Your hand self-consciously wandered to your neck, where you knew your soulmate's hickeys were hiding in plain sight. Some of them, at least. “Maybe.”

“Okay.”

He stayed quiet, not pressuring you to go on immediately. Only when he noticed the way you shivered from the cold did he speak up again.

“You can come back to my place for a while, if you want. I could make you a tea?"

You considered for a moment, the thought of being curled up on his couch with a cup of hot tea very enticing. But you couldn’t bring yourself to move, your body frozen in place as if an invisible chain tied you there. “I think I need to sit here a little longer.”

“That’s okay. Just wanted you to know that the option is there. My door is always open for you.” He lightly nudged you with his shoulder. “I mean not literally, because I do not trust the granny living across the street and I’m sure given the opportunity she would steal Morty. But metaphorically it’s—”

You interrupted him with your giggling, the mental image of the old lady trying to steal his pet snake too ridiculous to stay serious. “Thank you,” you said, once you’d stopped laughing, wiping at the corners of your eyes “it really means a lot, Kev.”

“Mhm-mh,” he gave you a soft smile “Not for that.”

You let your head drop against his shoulder, watching as a cat disappeared into the neighbor’s garden. You’d seen it around a few times, thinking it was a stray, but now the older lady that Kevin had deemed suspicious let it in through her terrace door. You felt an odd sense of jealousy. It seemed everyone had a place to go home to, and so did you, except you couldn’t remember the last time it had felt like home.

“He cheated on me,” you eventually whispered into the night. “He didn’t even try to hide it. There’s traces all over me, my neck, my chest, my thighs—I think he wanted me to see.”

“That’s fucked.”

“Yeah.” You paused and for a while it just stayed silent, Kevin patiently waiting for you to go on rather than filling the silence himself. 

“Do you think people can change?” you finally asked.

Kevin took a moment to think before he replied and when he did his voice was calm and genuine. “I do. But that doesn’t mean you have to stick around to find out.”

You huffed a small laugh. “You know, that’s a pretty good response.”

“I think so, too.”

“But the sad thing is, I want to. I want to stick around so badly, but I—” your voice quivered and broke and you felt tears welling up in your eyes all over again. “It’s him who doesn’t want me to stick around. He shows it in everything he does, in the way he doesn’t speak to me anymore, in the way he blames me for every little thing, in the way he doesn’t even try to be kind to me—it’s so clear that he doesn’t want me anymore. I know that already, but if he doesn’t say it clearly, if he doesn’t kick me out, I don’t know how to leave.” You sniffed before wiping your runny nose with the back of your hand. “He’s my soulmate. He was supposed to be my forever. How could I leave?” You sniffed again. “But I can’t stay either. If I go inside now, if I let him trample all over my feelings again, I think I’ll lose even the last bits of respect I have for myself.”

“Then don’t go inside,” Kevin said and he made it sound so easy. “You don’t have to. There is no rule that says you have to face him now, after the cruel way he treated you.”

“Wouldn’t that just mean I’m running away from my problems?”

“I’m not saying you should run forever and never confront him. But at times you have to make a strategic withdrawal, or you’ll lose. Just because you don’t feel like you can stand your ground at this moment doesn’t mean you have to go back to him until you can. If you’re not confident to face him right now, then don’t. If going back makes you hate yourself, then don’t.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Maybe not.”

“He’s my soulmate. You can’t just leave your soulmate.”

“I wouldn’t know, I don’t have one.” He turned his head to look at you and his eyes were so earnest, so unapologetically honest that it made your heart ache. “But what use is there in staying with a soulmate that makes you miserable? Shouldn’t your soulmate ease your pain rather than be the one to cause it?”

In your heart, you knew that Kevin was right. You were just letting yourself get hurt over and over again by staying with him. But leaving seemed so scary. It felt like admitting that you’d failed at something that was supposed to be easy. 

“But where would I even go?” you whispered.

His hand reached for yours, giving it a comforting squeeze. “I told you, my door is always open.” 

His fingers were warm intertwined with your own when you squeezed back. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.” 

You felt like you were ready to get up now.

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[auncyen]

and another little scene THIS IS THE LAST ONE I'M POSTING UNTIL I UPDATE ON AO3 JUST BECAUSE I REALLY SHOULDN'T SPOIL MY OWN FIC THIS MUCH but like. I'm also just excited that I'm writing. And the mental image of this scene has been in my head for way too long lol

-

"You're…real this time, right?"

Siffrin has always been on the quiet side, but this question could have been whispered by a mouse. You nearly miss it; Isabeau reacts first while you're still parsing it. "Sif? Of, of course we're real! Can't you tell??"

Siffrin flinches away, shrinking into their cloak with a faint "sorry", and you know.

They can't. They can't tell. Not well enough to be sure.

Have they been hallucinating? How long, that they're doubting their own sight right now? "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry," they whisper. "I'm sorry, I lost you. I'm sorry, I have to make sure you're fine, I have to be sure, I have to loop back--"

"Siffrin," you say loudly, just as their hand lights on their dagger. Why is he reaching for his dagger if he's going to loop back? No, no, that's not the issue right now. The issue is that they cannot loop back. You'll forget everything. He won't tell you again, not if this is how things end. You cannot have him looping. "If--If you can't trust that you're seeing us," you say, thinking quickly. "What if I touched you?"

Your question works in that it distracts Siffrin. His eye widens as they stare at you, the surprise clear as crystal on his face. "Huh?"

His hand falls away from the dagger.

You don't like that it was there to begin with, but you need to convince them while you have their attention. "If you're doubting sight and sound, touch would be the next logical option. It may be distasteful to you, but…" You raise your left hand with a deliberate slowness so that it's clearly in their vision. "If I touched you, would that be enough reassurance?"

He stares at you for a moment. The 'no' is already ringing in your mind. If he goes for the dagger again you'll need to use your Craft to slow him down and grab him--or hope Isabeau grabs him--but why would he reach for the dagger? He said he was going to loop, he said he was going to loop last night, how does he choose when to loop when he's made it clear he can't control the looping itself? The only answer coming readily to mind is abhorrent--

His hand moves up, further away from the dagger. Both of his hands reach up to the top of his head, snatching his hat off to hold by the brim as he stares at you, light eye unblinking.

"You want me to put my hand on your head?" you guess, trying to make sense of the silent response. The question elicits a nod, and it seems…logical enough--their cloak and gloves would mute any touch on his body, and the face and neck would likely feel too vulnerable--so you move your hand toward the bird's nest of hair, still slowly, not wanting to alarm them. He's so tense. "Breathe, Siffrin." You don't want them panicking, and you certainly don't want them fainting, either.

He breathes deeply in a familiar way. In and out. He still stares at your hand as it approaches, but at least he knows it's coming. Both his hands are occupied with the hat and won't make a Craft sign by accident. He has time to object, either with words or a gesture, if he realizes it will be too much.

You lower your hand into his hair in a waltz count, one-two-three. Immediately you encounter tangles and take care of where your fingers go in his unkempt hair. He tenses up even more, his breath hitching, but otherwise doesn't move. You hope that means they trust you.

"I'm real, Siffrin," you tell him, putting all the self-assurance you can muster into your voice. "As are Isabeau, Mirabelle, and Boniface. We're fine. We were only separated for a few moments."

"…Anything could have happened," they whisper.

"Nothing did. And even if it had, we're a bit hardier than that."

He winces. "I'm sorry I lost you."

You can't help the dry exasperation that creeps back into your voice. "Then don't storm off again. Straightforward enough, don't you think?"

He quickly nods several times, the motion frantic under your hand.

"We're here, and we're okay. You're…" They're not fine. You can't bring yourself to say that they're fine when it's plainly untrue, especially after how often they've misused that word in the past day, but you need to reassure them somehow. "You aren't alone. We're here with you. Do you trust me?"

The nods are less frantic this time. He seems to be calming down. He's still rigid, though. Touch has done its job and now it's only making them uncomfortable, so you start to take your hand away--

And then they bunt your hand with their forehead. Their eye darts up to look you in the face before it widens in horror. Siffrin takes two quick steps back, his gaze dropping back to the floor as he jams his hat back on. "Sorry! Sorry!" With his shoulders hunching up, his cloak and hat eclipse his entire expression.

"Siffrin?" Mirabelle asks. Isabeau and Boniface are both looking at you, likely trying to gauge what Siffrin did that they're apologizing. You're trying to figure that out yourself. The way he moved…certainly, you're not harmed. They tapped against your hand with only a little bit of force; if anything, it reminded you of how one of Ka Bue or Poteria's many friendly stray cats, comfortable around people, would sometimes ease up to you as you were reading in the open and bunt your hand to signal they wanted to be pet.

You doubt that was anywhere near Siffrin's intention. They hate being touched. Still… you wonder what that expression meant. Before he'd gotten scared, the expression he'd given you had been almost…

The only way you'll figure it out is if you ask. And if, hopefully, you get a straight answer. "What are you apologizing for this time?"

[with-love-from-hell]

Neverending Nights

written for Gn!Mc (you/yours)

genre: hurt/comfort

pairing: Mammon x MC (can be seen as platonic/friendship)

Cw: depression implication, self-loathing, FOMO, rejection sensitivity, reader is gn but coded as shorter than Mammon.

"I sincerely apologize, Mc, but I will have to postpone our date tonight." Lucifer sighed, rubbing his temple. "Diavolo urgently needs me at the castle to review RAD's cost analyses and approve a budget for next quarter- especially considering the cost for repairs has been much more significant this quarter."

"That's ok." You mumble mournfully. "I understand."

Lucifer winces, feeling the disappointment glaring through in your tone of voice. "I do hope you know I will be making this up to you ten fold when I have the opportunity, Mc."

You smile weakly before wishing him luck at his meeting and returning to your room. It didn't hurt- at least, not at first. Lucifer was always busy- it couldn't be helped, after all. Besides, he always made due on his promise to reschedule your quality time together- all the brothers did. They valued your time...right?

"Sorry Mc, I'm at a photoshoot with Devilstyle right now! Talk later, mmkay? <3"

"I'm at a banquet to honor one of my close associates. Maybe tomorrow?"

"MC! I'm currently in line at the music shop on Dogma Street! Surce Frenzy is here signing autographs. Can you believe it?! The line is so long though...I probably wont be back until morning LOL!"

"Fangol practice is running late. I won't be home for awhile..."

"Too...tired..."

Tears begin to well up behind your eyes. Even your friends at Purgatory Hall were all out together at a movie without even thinking to invite you... The breaking point, though, was the fact that Mammon didn't bother to respond to your texts at all.

Your stomach feels heavy as you set your phone to the side. Every rejection from your found family replayed in your head on a loop. Part of you was sure it was a coincidence that they all happened to be too busy for you right now, and that this is just what happens from time to time. Another part of you, though, was reminded of all the other times you were cast aside, ignored, forgotten, and rejected by others.

Your kind weren't exactly cruel to you, but there was a sense of belonging shared amongst humans that you just didn't really feel with very many of them. And part of you was convinced that they felt it too, which is why you often felt left out of...well...everything during your time there, and why the Devildom, and the friends you made here, had felt so much more like home to you.

But now, here you lay- curled into yourself in the corner of your bed. The same hurt from back then worming its way from your stomach, to your heart, and up through your throat. Your entire body felt tight and tense; the only catharsis it allowed was from the shuddered breaths and muffled cries that escaped your lips. Darkness shrouded your vision, not even the light from your phone was enough to permeate it. The blanket you've surrounded yourself with closes further and further in on you, slowly making its way over your face and shielding you from the outside.

Had you done something wrong? Maybe you unintentionally said something insulting about one of them and it spread around the group. Did they all hate you now? Maybe your "new shiny object" charm wore off, and they were bored of you- like when a child gets a bunny for Easter and their parents end up getting rid of it after a month because they lost interest. Or maybe you were never really interesting to begin with. They could have been faking it, just to get on Diavolo's good side. Or maybe they were using you...There definitely was evidence to suggest that could be the case. So they'll come back when they need something again...But maybe they never will? Maybe they'll send you back to the human world and forget all about you...

The thoughts hurled their way through your mind rapidly. Somehow, you managed to sift through what you thought to be the plethora of evidence that supported each one of your theories. It didn't make sense for all of them to be correct of course, but you believed it was more likely than sheer coincidence. How else would it explain why Mammon and Belphie just ignored your messages?

You tighten your grip on the blanket you bundled yourself into, pulling the fabric down over your eyes. The self-deprecation and rejections replayed in your thoughts like a broken record. The inside of your mind was so loud, you barely heard the sound of your door flinging open and slamming against the wall.

...barely.

"Oi, human! I just got back from winnin' big at the Casino. Ya won't believe how much I got this time!" Mammon quipped loudly as he strolled into the dark room. The light from the hall spilled in, illuminating your lumpy figure under the blankets. Mammon cocked his head to the side as he noticed you, fiddling with a small box that he was hiding behind his back.

You don't reply, only curl into yourself further, praying for him to go away. You were certain that he was only here to brag, and hadn't even glanced at the message you sent him about wanting to spend time together. Clearly, the Casino and his greed meant more to him. He was a demon, after all.

"Aye! I'm talking to you, Human! This aint no time to be sleepin'! C'mon!" Mammon paused his movements as he reaches the edge of your bed. His brow now furrowed with a mixture of confusion, irritation, and concern. After you don't respond a second time, his anxiety begins to spike.

"What, are ya sick or somethin'?" Mammon shakes you a little to roughly with one hand, but the action becomes more gentle when he finally hears your sniffling, despite your best attempts to hide it. "Hey...what'sa matter?"

You shake your head enough to where you're sure he can see the movement from beneath the covers, but still say nothing. Mammon's frown deepens on his face, now heavily concerned with whatever had you to the point of tears.

"Did someone..? I swear if anyone dared lay a damn hand on ya, their head would be mounted on The Great Mammon's wall!" He growls protectively. Mammon squeezes your shoulder gently, but is taken aback when you swat his hands away.

"G-go away." You mutter.

Mammon blinks, taking a minute to process what he'd heard you say. "Huh?"

"I said: Go. Away." Your voice is louder as you snap at him, finally revealing your face from underneath the blanket cocoon you had nestled your woe into.

Mammon's eyes widen at the state of your tear-stained face. "Hey now...I ain't goin' anywhere 'til you tell me what's eatin' ya."

You sigh, folding yourself back under the blankets without another word. Mammon stands there, confused, trying to think of what to do. Clearly you weren't going to make him leave, despite saying you wanted to be alone. For a minute he ponders what could have you so upset. After his mind continues to draw blanks, he pulls out his phone, trying to see if you had maybe left any clues in the group chat. After reading through the innumerable messages declining the request to spend time with you and you're dejected "that's ok..." in response, he begins to put the pieces together.

"I'm here now, Mc..." Mammon clears his throat, sitting at the edge of your bed. "So...er...we can hang out, if ya want..."

Again, you don't reply to him. The only thing swimming through your mind now is the pity he must feel for you, seeing you like this. He probably thinks you're pathetic.

Mammon shifts his jaw. He hadn't often seen you in a state like this, but something about being lonely must have set you off. He thinks back to all of the times he himself had been lonely, and everyone else was too busy for him. The difference for him, though, was he found comfort in greed- that was his way of feeling less lonely. The casino, the horse track, and even online gambling dens were crowded with demons. Sure, many of them would roll their eyes at him or make snide remarks when he passed them by, but at least he wasn't alone.

He lets out a sigh, fidgeting with the box in his hand. "I'm sorry Mc. I didn't know you were so lonely. If I woulda known, I'd've come right home and skipped the Casino..." He pauses, glancing at your form that lay hidden underneath the blankets. "..but, I also wouldn't've been able to get ya this."

You barely have time to register what he says before a box is shoved into your face. You blink a few times before carefully taking it out of his hands. You swipe the blankets away from your face, taking the chance to study Mammon's intentions. You were surprised again to see him blushing, now turning his head away from you. With an uncertain breath, you open the box. A small gasp escapes your lips, and you snap your attention back to Mammon, who's blush seemed to have spread to his ears.

Inside the box is two sparkly gold necklaces, the heart-shaped pendants appear to be two halves that connect in the center with a magnet, showing that the wearer of each has a "half" of the other person's. "Partners in Crime" is spelled out in black cursive when the pendants are connected to each other. The gift seems befitting of a pair of middle schoolers who labeled each other as best-friends.

But as juvenile as the gift was in theory, you couldn't help but smile. "Thank you, Mammon...this is very sweet."

"Yeah, yeah..." Mammon cleared his throat, trying to hid the reddness deepening on his cheeks. "I- uh- just got it so that other demons wouldn't mess with ya, not cuz I got a crush on ya or somethin'... If they see us wearin' the same necklace, they'll know you belong to the Great Mammon!"

For some reason, the comment doesn't phase you. If he'd said something like that 10 minutes ago, you would have been convinced he wanted nothing to do with you, but the gesture of the gift and the adorable flustered state he was in was proof enough that he cared about you...so much so that he went out of his way to pick up a good quality set of jewelry for you both to wear together with his winnings from his gambling. Instead of acknowledging his words, you hug him tightly.

"I...uh..." Mammon interrupted your thoughts, looking down at you with a sheepish smile on his face. "I still got some money left over from my winnings...did ya wanna order a pizza and watch some movies? I ain't got anythin' to do for the rest of the night and-"

"That sounds perfect." You smile warmly up at him. "Thank you."

Mammon finally returns your hug, squeezing you tightly. "Good. You ain't goin' anywhere cuz I got ya all to myself now, ya got that?! And...no more cryin' like that either...The Great Mammon's gonna make all yer problems go away!!"

You let out a small laugh, nuzzling into his chest. "Sure, Mammon..Sure."

[aeviiteernal]

Omg can you do a Myers (or maybe even Demogorgon if you write for him lol) with a Surviver who is basically IMPOSSIBLE to catch? Like their looping skills are insane and if he ends up getting them he cant feel good abt it bc all gens have been done in that done or everyone escaped😭

i love looping the killer for 5 gens <3 also sorry for not posting for a bit, been focused on my personal life and trying to hit a higher killer rank for the reset. but, i am still here AND alive !

Michael Myers

When Michael saw you in his trial, he knew it was going to be a tough one. After all, word from the other killers (and some matches himself) always groaned and complained how you could run them until everything was done.

He wanted to be the first one to finally kill you.

Thankfully for him, where the Entity had sent everyone was Midwich. Granted he brought the offering and was running scratch mirror but we won't talk about it..

Deciding to go into the trial with a plan: he wanted to lure you out through your teammates and pursue you immediately.

After downing half your team, Michael waits patiently for you to slip out and make your appearance...

To be expected, you finally made your grand appearance and Michael made his first move towards you.

You were trying to quickly patch up Nea, knowing for a fact it was a stealth killer as you heard no terror radius. That only solidified when a knife swept your back, making a deep cut. A yelp scream from your lips, forcing you to stop healing and start your chase.

With you injured, Michael thought he could easily down. Well... He was wrong.

You took him everywhere you could, going to different loops, winning his mind games--even him falling for yours--you tried your damn best to keep him distracted as the others did gens.

One, two, three... Michael lost track as his bloodlust intensified, only wanting to catch you. At this rate he would be incapable of salvaging this trial if he left now. So his only goal was to get you.

You made a mistake, a fatal one which pretty much landed you directly in his arms as he ripped you off the pallet.

For as silent as he can be, you could hear a frustrated exhale come from his mask as he went to throw you on a hook.

At least you know you wasted his time and made him resent you...

The Demogorgon

My sweet, sweet, demo...

An apex creature, causing quite a bit of trouble amongst survivors with its ability to track down anyone injured.

Of course, nothing that you couldn't handle.

Your team had a rather rough start, you were on Coal Tower and some of your team had been hooked which left you to be the only one that was never hooked once.

Neither was any gens done, so it was an anonymous agreement to have you distract the beast.

Not that you can complain, it was preferred you take chase anyways.

You walked through the blue realm, searching to find it. Thankfully it didn't take long as you stepped into direction line of sight of it.

And so the chase begins, not wanting to let your team down and to at least give them some hope.

Running around, you narrowly dodge its shreds, baiting them out by faking a vault and letting it smack against it.

Even if you got hit during chase, it never deterred you. You wanted to run for a million dollars.

As gens popped, the more the chase got intense. You were getting tired, and you know the Demogorgon was just as frustrated and tired. How could a human like you give it so much trouble?!

Eventually you were smacked to the ground and took to a hook. As soon as you were placed on it, the sound of the exit gates powering alerted the killer.

Although you may not be able to tell, you certainly did demotivate the demon as it ran off to go and get the rest of your team and try to get a second kill.

[rudesun]

Finally rambling about my pre-mutation Candyman i've been wanting to do this for too long

So ! As previously stated I named him Mehdi Insel. He was a known Lethal League player when it was still legal to play in it, but ! He also worked in a candy store plus he was an actor at the local Theater. He was the oldest out of the 4 kids of the Insel family (24 years old at the time).

He got into the Lethal League when his job and his side gig couldn't afford his appartment. The rest of his family was struggling already with money and so he felt guilty to even think of asking for help. A friend initiated him to the game and soon after Mehdi realised he wasn't so bad at it ! And as he got passionate about it, one night, he had an idea. He combined his current playstyle with his biggest talent, acting.

From that point each match he was in slowly became a theatrical performance, especially if the stage chosen for the fight is the Theater Mehdi works at, with music, costumes and stage lighting added to the experience.

Mehdi got a sudden rise in popularity. No matter if he won or lost, people rooted for him. Behind the scenes however, that rise made him anxious.

He started putting more effort into his style. Each performance had to be better than the last. If not, what would the people supporting him think ? He isn't going to let them down obviously. It was a terrible loop. A well he drowned in.

Of course, time passed and that anxiety soon became fear. Those around him noticed it. It was an awful fire, and yet the audience only saw stars.

This couldn't last any longer. But the way it all ended was much worse.

One day, during the quarterfinals of an important tournament....

Everything was going well, the show went on as Mehdi and his opponent fought in the most natural of ways. Yet near the end of it, when Mehdi was in the middle of smashing the ball, his weapon of choice, his cane, broke.

The ball flew around the room, hitting him right on his back, leaving him on the floor. Injuries during the game is common but not quite like this. Mehdi couldn't get up, and the impact was hard enough for it to ripple throught all his body. He was brought to the hospital immediately.

The last people that saw him alive were the doctors that were in charge of him and his younger brother, Hans, that has been living with him for four years.

Mehdi died two days after the incident.

The game was now declared illegal and as the Police got involved, it found evidence that the ball used during the match was sabotaged and with that in mind the opponent that played against Mehdi that day got arrested and sentenced to death despite the opponent claiming his innocence.

That day, people lost a friend and a brother. He was a talented young man gone way too fast. That's what the Tri-government wanted people to believe.

TLDR: Silly guy "dies" and the government is responsible lol

Anyways this was long ! I hope whoever read that enjoyed it, i'm very very normal about my LLB interpretation thingie

[erikiara80]

How does El recognize Will in the photo? Yes, I'm still thinking about that. We'll finally see what happened in the UD, and I need an answer to this!

The least interesting explanation (imo): sometimes Brenner made El spy people, and one of them was Will. This would be disappointing lol. Unless the kids were already connected (twins, or Brenner almost took Will, but then chose El) and Brenner wanted to see if she could find him. But I doubt it. I just hope the explanations are more surprising than 'Will was just in the wrong place', 'El recognizes him because Brenner made her find random people in Hawkins', or 'the fake body is just a fake body'

The most popular theory doesn't convince me either: El simply sees Will in the woods, before the boys find her.

So, this scared kid, who's running away from the people who just killed Benny, would take the time to concentrate and use her powers to see a boy who's lost in another dimension/plane of existence?

Before the boys find her, they hear someone screaming, and I think that was Will, but even if she could see him...

Why would she try to find him?

Also, I don't know if it makes sense that El recognizes Will in the photo because she saw him in the woods. Because, if that night is really the first time she sees him, then how can she find someone she's never seen before? They made it clear that she needs to concentrate AND she needs a photo of the person she has to find.

So, how could've she done that? How could've she done that in a moment like that? And why?

I can think of a few explanations:

1) There's a time loop, so this has already happened before, and El recognizes Will, like Mike seems to know that a plan will work, or that Will is alive, but can't explain why.

2) El and Will are twins that were separated when they were younger. And if tears in time and space were involved (my theory here) maybe El vaguely remembers him and/or can feel their connection, but only when Will is in the UD, or is directly connected to it, like when he's possessed in S2. Because of the nature of the UD, whatever it is. And because they're connected, despite different timelines of a time loop, or MKUltra mind control experiments. I'm not sure why El can't find him and Barb in 1x07. Maybe she tries to find Barb first, but it's hard because Barb is dead? Again, all this makes it hard to believe that she just saw Will in the woods, while she was running away from Brenner. But IF that's what happened, I think that means that they really share ''a common bond that is not of this world'.

This mystery intrigues me so much!

Timeloop, mind control, twins, swapping places. We'll see! I just hope this is not like in Fringe, a Henry/Henrietta situation (here) Basically, both Will and El would be Joyce and Hopper's kid, but in different timelines.

[sophiethewitch1]

hey sophie! ive been listening to the www playlist a lot lately and was wondering if you could bust out ur playlist thesis? however much ur cool with sharing!! would love to hear your thoughts hehe. also, are there any bonus tracks we can listen to from the big og playlist?

i want you to know that for this entire post I was doing this

absolutely constantly. raving maniac mode. under the cut so i don't make everyone hate me for all the bullshit im about to spout and like some cough cough future hints. No actual spoilers but like... vibes and things that are obvious. Me telling you there will be yandere things in the yandere story, shock horror. These songs are the trailers/animatics in my head so uh. It's kind of hard to explain them without that (which is why I literally CAN NOT) for a couple of them lol. Oh!!!! And I've also got some other songs that really should've made the playlist but I just didn't add for some reason. Laziness or whatever. One's literally called birthday party. I uh. Don't think I need to explain that one.

But also I just like, whatever who cares if some of the songs on there aren't ones I 100% associate w what we want so here's the full playlist live your dreams. Most of them I associate at least a moderate bit. BUt under here is the fucking essay I've somehow written lmao I lost my mind somewhere along the way.

WHAT YOU GONNA DO??? By Bastille and Graham Coxon is first on the playlist for a reason. It's sort of like, similar to the rocking feeling of what being cramped on the subway was like to me? And it's a song that's pretty obvious with the lyric comparisons. The 'you' in the title IS you! What are you gonna do? You have us (Gotham, the world, the batfam) listening, so what are you gonna do with it? And it matches readers future response quite well I think. And it feels like something that a superhero would have in the background, which certainly helps.

Keep You Mine by NOTD and Shy Martin was actually just one of those songs you were listening to on loop at the time you were doing a thing, and then became intrinsically linked to that thing, but it still represent WWW quite well! It matches more so the later acts of the story, where you and the boys will have some issues staying together with eachother. But it's still poppy and romantic in tone!! Because you guys and your relationship, despite everything that'll happen, you want to keep each other y'know? And reader's like possessive and jealous in a cutesy way to offset how absolutely psycho bonkers the guys will end up being... But I also feel this too matches the superhero vibes? Somehow? The fight on of it... You must keep fighting, for each other!

Tinfoil Hat by Dolo Tonight is like,,, about the frustration of being a Gotham resident I suppose (or anyone living in late stage capitalism with a mental illness) but especially you! Since you totally fucking got ripped from one universe to another and um, i don't know if you've noticed this yet but... there seems to be some issues with readers idols??? Seeing as you love the waynes but hate the bats. Please duck under the comically large chekov's gun and come this way. Also because reader for a little bit does geniunely think she's crazy and need to go to the psychiatrist but obviously thinks that is the worst idea ever because the gotham mental health system is really just prison. and it's a prison with her nemesis. not the place to be.

Live, Learn, Die by Lavin is pretty obvious too, but in a much sadder tone. Reader as a character has at this point come to a conclusion that I'm sure many of us do in their lifetime (I know I have at least) which is that... things suck, and then you die. She doesn't want to die, but she doesn't really particularly actually want to live, she's just so damn focused on survival she's never actually even had the time to realise that. This other version of her who didn't have 24/7 adrenaline running in her body was obviously significantly worse off and seemed... off. If everyone you love is dead, is surviving for them even worth it anymore? She's still learning, so maybe she'll learn something different this time...?

Next song is a spoiler so skipping it <3! Lmfao interpret this however you'd like

Thelma + Louise By Bastille is a song about a scene that I am so damn eager to get to which unfortunately is in act fucking 3 which is my favourite but like. Suffering I am suffering :) Anyways I can't tell you too much about it because of but I will say that it's a road trip between you, Dick and Jason! It's very fun and absolutely no complex feelings are involved whatsoever. You meet Lucy the giant elephant (actual roadside attraction in new jersey lmfao). This song is Dick Grayson coded in like... mostly sunny vibes. Like the warmth the song gives, that's how you make him feel.

Temper Temper by LimeCordiale is a song that is about... you and Jason... and his poor poor habit of enabling you. 'Me and my girlfriend that I let do whatever she wants to me because shes hot' core. Bruce sees the two of you in the landing and gets immediate d10 psychic damage it's impressive. Anyways if anyone ever angers you (which I'm sure they never ever ever will :)) he's probably going to be there to back you up, because 'you know that that's what I like'. That video of you punching George is private time material frankly.

Next song is ALSO a spoiler which um. cough. 😳 let's not look too deep at this one actually folks

Werewolf By Quinn XCII. Ah yes, the yan in the yandere story. This one is ALSO about Jason but this is the most Jason coded song. I will say that this also features in the story at some point (you, Molly, Dick, Jason and some very poor suffering grunts). It's the lyrics. I've always said Jason is a loyal dog and I stand by it till the day I die. He also feels like a feral animal that constantly kind of wants to swallow you whole which is romantic I think <3 <4 But geniunely put that thing on a leash for the betterment of mankind. I mean you make them all feel like starving monsters Jason's the only one who has any self awareness unfortunately, which is why this is HIS song. Also because he'd be a werewolf, case close your honour. Dick'd be a vampire it's LITERALLY canon. WHat was I talking about

Ghosts by The 1975 got on here because I heard the first line and went 'hA!' because it really do just be 'You... You always seem to get what you want.' and also the "You seem to get better" is fuckin. IT'S SO GOOD MAN! That's EXACTLY what the guys are thinking when the next few chapters start coming around which. Really were supposed to be out by now whoopsie but yknow like. Anyways you ARE gonna start working on things!!! You're gonna talk to Molly!! You're gonna get more flowers!!!!! God damn it, you're gonna get what you want!!!!!!!!!!!!! (at least this first bit oop)

Next two are spoilers again, but this time you absolutely won't be able to guess because they're both animatic inside my own brain so take that! And I mean you REALLY won't be able to guess they're great scenes can't wait for you to see em. I can't wait either tbh why am I writing these stupid filler scenes lmao. why can't i skip to the end of my 200k enemies to lovers slowburn just to write the final chapter (did this to herself)

Together We're Screwed By Robotaki and Nevve is a song I've loved for ageeessssss bro because there is (to me at least) nothing more romantic than being a terrible horrible unredeemable person with the one you love. Hand in unlovable hand baby! That's like... the fic I guess, together the five of you are screwed. And it just matches that same earlier mentioned vibe of like... poppy kinda techno-y kinda superhero-y kinda loser-y. Listen to me, listen to me... This fic is about many things and I'll say it again and again and everytime it's true in a different way and this time it's true in this way. This fic is about being about being a loser and bad at everything and still managing to get what you want. Actually that might be what this fic is actually actually centrally about. 'We're both a mess, we just can't get it right. Together we're screwed. I'm looking at you, I'm looking at you~' like, be a mess!

And now we're at the exciting new

Birthday Party by AJR is like the equivalent of what would be a canon event for this au. Your birthday HAS to happen and it HAS to suck ass and all your family HAS to die on this day for some reason or another.. Some people told me when they had their birthday they thought of my fic and I was like damn bro who hurt you? /jk but really reader's birthday is kind of a reflection of... you know, everyone has at least one of those sucky as birthdays. And you've gotta paste on a brave face and pretend you don't want to cry and that it's all not too much and that for some reason you're disappointed and that the trudging march of time scares the shit out of you and that you haven't achieved anything this year and- You know? 'And that's just how it is.'

Okay I've run out of videos I can add but there are only two songs left so!! Ima finish this anyways.

Inertia by AJR is a song where again the lyrics speak for itself. Before you woke up in a slightly different world where everything was just slightly different, your life was stagnant. You were stuck, absolutely. Despite trying to break out of poverty, out of your circumstances, fortune simply wouldn't smile on you. And again, that other you seemed to reflect that stagnancy. She wasn't going anywhere either. In my head I see the two of you dancing like marionettes alone on your stages alone, unable to fight against the strings pulling at you. It's only till you start dancing with eachother, till the strings start tangling that you start getting any freedom. That you're able to start getting anywhere. Maybe being set off course was the best thing that could happen to both of you?

Something Just Like This by The Chainsmokers and Coldplay is a song that both me and my mum love, and also one very fitting to the superhero theme! And it's how ALL the guys feel about you!! You're really just a civilian, you're not that important in the grand scheme of things... But why do you like them? It's for such stupid reasons. It's because of the way Damian reads romance novels and Jason never properly tapes his nuckles and Dick has a stupid bleeding heart so he keeps taking too many hours at the Bludhaven pet rescue and Tim always fucking sends you the new york wordle, connections, crossword and spelling bee first thing in the morning and then asks if you want any help when he knows you want to do it on your own and- Every single moment of you is done with such love and sincerity and heart and they can't help but fall in love again and again and again. 'I want something just like this' is a phrase they'll say to you and you'll say to them too.

[gemidoriwillbarelyusethisaccount]

The final ref sheets!!! I will be making more of this AU, trust me lol, but for now here are the remaining primary characters...AND a surprise extra :D

Loop - Takes the combined role of Riddler and Two-Face. Formerly going down the same path as The Playing One, they were devastated when they finally did defeat - and seemingly kill - Barrelman. Traumatized by this event, they believed themself impossible to rehabilitate, and spent a week running away from the House's forces who aimed to find and secure them even despite what they had done. Unable to die yet unwilling to live with themself, they took to the Favor Tree and made a new wish - to disappear and start a new life. A familiar voice, thought to be lost, beckoned their name before it was too late. An amnesiac who enjoys their new life, only remembering that they are not of this timeline, Loop takes the moniker of the Sponsor. They're more mischievous than canon, but are by no means dangerous, feeling a drive they cannot fully understand to never truly harm people. Relishing in their own mystery, they pull misdeeds in the form of riddles for a hero to solve, and uses the flip of their silver coin - from where it came from, they don't know - to determine their plan's next step, rendering them very unpredictable. They feel something bizarre when facing the Playing One however, as if something was out of place about them...

Mal du Pays - Takes the role of Scarecrow. Formed at some unknown time and first manifested when Siffrin was attacked by a thug in his home country and lost his eye, this is the inner darkness broiling within the Playing One. While Loop was able to escape its influence, Siffrin subconsciously feels the urge to continue his crimes not just out of fun, nor gaining Isabeau's attention, but due to an underlying fear that Mal du Pays had excarberated in their mind; the fear of being alone. Through the chaos, puns and destruction, it is isolation that the Playing One knows most of all, and fears the most - and Mal du Pays is what drives him to avoid it. In the event that the Playing One is infused with Venimeux, he will manifest as Bigfrin, in full control while using MDP's power. Otherwise, MDP will only ever manifest in other people's minds by Siffrin's will, playing into their fears and terrors.

King - Takes the combined role of Bane and Ra's al Ghul. His home country scarred by war, and eventually lost to a cursed wish by a dying opponent of his, the King was fueled not only by sorrow here, but also more anger. He resents the fact that his home is gone, and seeks to perfect Vaugarde by ruling it with an iron fist before freezing it into a perfect state, believing that stagnance to be what people need. Inspiring a widespread criminal underworld with his organization of devoted warriors and hired outlaws, the King would later come in conflict with Euphrasie, resulting in him being so badly wounded that he resorted to building a mask to hide his scars. He tended to his wounds by using even more Wish Craft - to create a new, augmented variant of Restoration Craft known as Venimeux, pushing his body to its limits while maintaining his cunning mind. He has a fascination for both Isabeau, seeing him as a worthy ally if he so chose to take his side, and Siffrin, who was also from his home country, having shown some usage of Wish Craft himself. He is the main antagonist, sharing such a role with The Playing One even though they oppose each other.

Part 1: Isa and Sif ( HERE! )

Part 2: Mira and Bonnie ( HERE! )

Part 3: Odile and Euphrasie ( HERE! )

Part 4: Loop, Mal du Pays and King (here!)