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mononijikayu · 3 days ago

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forg_tful — fushiguro megumi.

“I think you must be the kindest grim reaper to ever exist.” you say suddenly, the words spilling out before you can stop them. Your voice is soft, worn out from the day, but it carries the weight of sincerity. Megumi raises an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Do you know any other grim reapers?” he asks, his tone laced with dry humor. You chuckle, a sound that feels lighter than it has in weeks. “No, not at all.” you admit, smiling despite yourself. “But I don’t need to. You’ve set the bar pretty high, do you know that?”

GENRE: alternate universe - grim reaper au;

WARNING/S: mythical beings and creatures, aged up megumi, heavy angst, romance, conflicted feelings, hurt/comfort, unhappy life, depression, illness, hurt, character death, mourning, loneliness, pain, humor, guilt, pining, conflicted relationship, emotional distress, grief, depiction of character death, depiction of illness, depiction of grief, depiction of complicated relationship, depiction of panic attack, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, mention of illness, mention of loneliness, grim reaper! megumi, long suffering dying! reader;

WORD COUNT: 12k words

NOTE: when i was dabbling about what to post, i did a wheel of names and megumi won so here is another megumi fic. i was talking with @midnight-138 the other day and we got in this conversation about goblin, the kdrama. and there were grim reapers there. so i ended up writing about that here. i hope you enjoy it as much as i did!!! anyway, i love you all <3

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THERE IS A WONDER ABOUT HUMAN DESTINY. You heard a story about it then, at the orphanage. One of your carers would tell you about it often. How humans were born into this destiny in this new life after their old one.

And this life is determined by how good or bad that past life was. And that each and everyone must live a good enough life in each cycle, in order to have a good life in the next.

When you were a child, understanding this concept felt like a challenge. How could one’s destiny ever be decided just like that, by things you don’t even remember? Who gets to decide whether or not we are good?

Is good and bad easy to tell? You would ask the older kids at the orphanage this, and sometimes you caretakers. But they never seem to understand why you could not accept it as it is.

After all, you were a child. And a child would always find that ridiculous, you think. You were a child. You haven’t done anything wrong. Not to anyone. Not about anything.

You doubt you could have done something in your past life that should warrant any punishment. You were someone people knew to be a good kid, you always have been. People looked at you warmly, ever so kindly.

But now you can only say that you know better. You have grown up. You had seen the truth. And it was not good, it was ugly and rotten. It was a tragedy. And you hated it. You hated everything about it.

Because your past life, your past self — they might have been a terrible person. They must have been the worst of the worst. Because, if you weren’t, then what justifies that sad suffering? That painful existence you had lived up until now.

You sighed heavily, taking in the whiff of bitter antiseptic, that artificial fragrance. You like to think you’ve been cursed to live a sad life. And today was just another proof of it.

Every thought of it just lingers like a familiar shadow, whispering in the quiet moments when you’re too tired to fight back. It’s easier to believe in curses than coincidences, easier to pin your pain on something cosmic than accept a world so indifferent.

You were an orphan, after all. Not in the storybook sense where miracles come to those who wait, but in the raw, unvarnished truth of it. Alone from the start, without a name to cry out to when the nights felt endless.

There was no mother to call for warm hugs, there was no father to give you reassurances. Just that cold metal bunk bed, which creaks at night as you twist and turn and the dark moonless nights.

You were passed from one place to another, faceless in a system that churned endlessly, always one more lost child than it could handle. You kept being told that it wasn’t that because you were unlovable, that’s what they always said.

But it was just that they found out what love looks like when they look at someone else, at another child that they think fits in their family. That was just how they felt they said, that was just their truth. And it shouldn't be personal.

You learned early on that love wasn’t guaranteed, that kindness wasn’t free, and that your worth was measured by how little trouble you caused. And just like that you grew up in that orphanage, being your own parent, being your own mother and father, your own sibling. Your own family.

When the kids at school found out, they immediately latched onto it. The teasing started small, barbs disguised as jokes, but it grew sharper, crueler. Just as the years dragged on, they had grown to be even crueler, even more vicious about being someone like you.

Even as you started to have your own life and slowly became an adult, you found that people would never think to give you anything. You had expectations at one point that people would be more understanding. That they would give you more grace about it.

But you would find yourself broken up over by your significant other because their mother didn’t like that you had no one in your family. Well, their mother never liked you from the beginning.

They thought you were difficult and had no manners, all because you never had a family, no parents to teach you all the things that would make a good person.

You would find yourself having friends and then getting into fights with them when you couldn’t show up for them at times, because you had to work multiple jobs to get through college.

Or how you couldn’t hang out with them because you had to take another shift for extra cash for your rent. They would say, what would be the need of you if you can’t be there?

Over time, you found yourself isolated from the world. No matter what you did, you found yourself alone. You found yourself unable to please people, unable to keep people. Unable to attain happiness or peace in this life. And over time too, you stopped expecting anyone to step in. You stopped expecting anything at all.

You’ve had a rough life—that’s what they’d call it, isn’t it? A neat little phrase to gloss over the thorny, jagged edges of this existence. It was as if that phrase could capture all of the nights spent crying into your pillow, the gnawing hunger for connection, for someone; the sense that the world moved on without ever noticing you.

And somehow, your misery can only continue.

It started with little things, barely noticeable at first—a name you couldn’t recall, a face that seemed familiar but unplaceable. Then it got worse and worse as time went by. Days lost to a haze of things you couldn’t explain, moments slipping through your fingers like water flowing downstream.

You didn’t wanna worry about it that much in the beginning. Maybe you’ve been working too hard. You’ve taken so much work these past few weeks. And maybe you had forgotten to eat anything.

You had a sensitive stomach, after all. Maybe that’s what has been causing the fatigue and the headache. Maybe the headaches are the reason you’ve been forgetting a lot of things. Yeah, that’s what it could be.

Yet, it just never went away. Even with the lifestyle changes, even when you would cut back on work to take care of yourself and rest. Nothing had changed. In fact, the pain had only gotten worse.

And more and more, you would find yourself forgetting things more and more. At one point, you had cried so much after forgetting which street you lived on after work.

You had felt your head spinning, your vision went on a blur and that night lamp began to burn against your eyes. Your breath labored over and over, and you had tried to get it controlled — but you couldn’t. Tears fell even more as you leaned against the lamp post. You felt like you were going to collapse.That you were going to throw up on the floor.

It took some time for yourself to regain some control, you knew that much. You just stayed there, letting the tears fall. You still didn’t remember where you had lived. You were forgetting it all. And that frustrated you to no end. You knew then that this can’t continue happening. That this cannot continue on.

That’s why you came here in this godforsaken place known as the hospital. You’ve always hated hospitals. It was such a terrible place. Even as a child, getting your check–ups with the other orphans terrified you. Nothing about this place spells any good. You were already with bad luck, with such a terrible destiny in this life and you didn’t want it to continue.

But you cannot control destiny, not ever.

You could only control yourself.

And even that, you cannot have control.

Not anymore, not ever again.

The doctors confirmed it: a rare, terminal illness. Brain cancer, in its final stages. Not only was it going to kill you, it was going to take everything that made you along with it.

Your memories, no matter how horrible, your identity, no matter how empty, your self, no matter how broken. All of who you are — you'd fade away in pieces, becoming a hollow shell long before your body gave out.

You thought the universe had no more ways to hurt you.

But you knew you were wrong, from the very beginning.

And then, on a night when the weight of it all felt unbearable, you saw him.

He wasn’t what you expected. No black cloak, no skeletal frame, no cold, lifeless eyes. The grim reaper was... human. Or at least, he looked that way. His dark colored hair fell in soft, dark strands over his forehead, his clothes unassuming—a rather plain and boring suit, even.

But there was something in his presence, a quiet intensity, that made your heart skip. His blue-green eyes, sharp and unreadable, pinned you in place, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

“Who are you?” you asked, though deep down you already knew.

He studied you in silence for a moment, as though deciding whether you were worth an answer. Your eyes narrowed at him, as though trying to make sure that this isn’t just your brain making a mess of you. But he wasn’t. He was very much real. He was very much here. Finally, he spoke.

“Megumi.” he said. His voice was calm, steady, but there was something beneath it—something you couldn’t quite place. You hadn’t expected that from a grim reaper. You had expected something more rough. Something more….grim.

“Is that all?” you pressed, desperation clawing at your throat. You wanted—no, needed—to know more. Why him? Why now? Why couldn’t you just be left alone?

“That’s all you need to know about me.” he said simply.

His words were a wall you couldn’t scale. No matter how hard you tried, you knew there would be no answers, no explanations, no mercy. At least not until you were dead. You sighed, leaning against the bench.

This was it. The final countdown was coming soon. There was no escape. Yet, as the silence stretched between you, a strange feeling took root in your chest. Not comfort, not exactly. But something close. It was at least something. And for once, you weren’t alone.

You didn’t know what this grim reaper, this Megumi, was meant to be to you. What was he? Was he a guide, a witness, a judge? You didn’t know. And perhaps it was easier not to ask questions, to not know.

But as you continued to sit there, staring at the one who would carry you to your end, a thought crossed your mind. At least he wasn’t judging you. At least he was just there, waiting. He was calm as can be, quiet and without any grievances towards you.

Perhaps, maybe — at least he wasn’t as cruel as life has been. You began to think to yourself as you closed your eyes about one thing. Maybe if he was here, then maybe the end wouldn’t be so lonely after all. Maybe there will finally be some sense of peace at the end.

You opened your eyes, your lips seeping into a small smile. “I look forward to meeting my end with you.”

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AS THE TIME GOES BY, HE WAS WITH YOU IN EVERYTHING. No one else around you could feel or see him the way you do. And he couldn’t go anywhere else. He was bound to you, until he could take your soul away and bring it with him. So, Megumi continued to watch over you as you continued to live your life, or at least what remains of it.

At first, his presence unnerves you. You weren’t used to this, being watched so closely almost everyday and every hour — especially with what remained of your miserable life. But slowly you found yourself getting used to him being around. And at the very least, he still gave you space when you did things that required privacy.

Otherwise, he’s always there, quiet and still, like a shadow you can’t shake. And as the days stretch into weeks, you begin to realize that he isn’t all bad. He does talk, sometimes. At least when he thinks you do something worth giving a response about.

He was truly quite reserved and serious half the time, yes, and almost cold in the way he speaks and carries himself, but there’s something beneath it. It wasn’t easy to notice at first, because it was ever so subtle. It was as if he never wanted anyone to notice that there was something soft within that hard exterior of his.

Megumi didn’t seem to fit his job description—not at all. He was patient in a way you didn’t expect from a reaper. From what you’d gathered from folklore and stories about grim reapers, you imagined something far more ominous.

Shadows and sickles, maybe even whispers of death. But Megumi? He had a quiet presence that felt nothing like the foreboding figures you’d pictured.

When your mind betrays you, when a memory slips through your fingers like grains of sand, Megumi is there. He doesn’t judge the gaps, doesn’t rush you to remember. Instead, he catches the loose ends with an ease that seems effortless.

Sometimes, it feels as though he’s more of a guide than a harbinger, steering you gently through the storm of forgetfulness. His voice is steady, grounding. His gaze is understanding, never invasive.

There’s a calmness to him, a patience that wraps around you like a soft cocoon. It’s disarming. You wonder how someone charged with ferrying souls could be so tender. Yet, when you look at him, you see no malice, no hint of the cold indifference you expected. Just the faintest trace of weariness in his eyes, as if he’s carried too many burdens that aren’t his own.

Sometimes, you forget who he is. And in those moments, Megumi doesn’t correct you. Instead, he lets you speak, lets you ramble, and when the memory comes back, when you remember why he’s here—he doesn’t revel in the grief.

He simply nods, a quiet acknowledgment that this, too, is part of the process. He’s not here to rush the inevitable; he’s here to make sure you don’t face it alone.

“Your nurse’s name is Alice, by the way.” Megumi says again when you struggle to introduce yourself.

You could feel your mouth fumbling over syllables that don’t quite fit together. Your cheeks feel red at the thought, now remembering as she smiled at your direction. You waved at her. His voice is calm, steady, like he has all the time in the world to wait for you to find your footing. You blink at him, your thoughts swirling too fast to make sense of.

“Huh?” you finally ask, the confusion thick in your tone.

“She takes care of you in the mornings. Alice always makes sure to bring your meds with water, no ice.” he says, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to know. “You told her once that cold water hurts your teeth, so she makes sure to bring you water without ice.

You glance down at your hands, unsure of what to say. His eyes felt warm against your own as you nodded slowly at him, trusting his words. Those details feel foreign to you, like a story you heard about someone else. But his words fit, even if you can’t remember saying them. They were warm, they felt truthful.

“Oh.” you mumble with a small smile. “Thanks.”

He looks away from you. “No problem.”

Later, in the cafeteria, you sit in front of a tray of food that feels unfamiliar. Your appetite is as absent as the clarity of your thoughts. You stare at the carton of apple juice, its horrifically bright label somehow irritating, though you can’t pinpoint why at all.

“You liked orange juice better than apple.” Megumi says, breaking the silence. He gestures toward the carton with a small nod. “That one’s your favorite. Not too sweet, not too sour.”

The simplicity of the statement hits you like a lifeline, tethering you to something concrete. You pick up the carton, turning it in your hands before setting it back down. You smiled at him again, but this time almost a mix of relief and embarrassment. You were relying on your grim reaper to remind you of everything, now more than ever.

“Thank you.” you say again, a little louder this time, just enough for him to hear.

The two of you sit in silence for a while before you decide to pull out the small notebook you’ve been keeping. Your doctor suggested it as your brain got even sicker. You needed to remember something and so this notebook, it was your place to track your thoughts before they disappear entirely.

You scribble furiously, trying to make sense of the jumble in your head. You’re working on a sentence about feeling forgetful, but the words tangle together, your handwriting messy and uneven. You pause, staring at it. Something feels wrong. Something feels off. Your face contorts, your eyes narrow at the page.

“You missed an E.” Megumi says softly, leaning over to glance at the page.

He doesn’t reach for the notebook, doesn’t try to take it from you. Instead, he taps the spot with his finger, just enough to draw your attention. Your eyes blinked. Sure enough, forgetful is written as forgtful. You bite your lip, heat rising to your cheeks as frustration bubbles up.

“I—I know that, you know?” you say defensively, though the truth is you hadn’t noticed until he pointed it out.

He doesn’t laugh or tease you. “It happens, don’t worry.” he says simply, his tone free of judgment. “You caught it now. That’s what matters.”

You glance at him, expecting pity, but his stoic expression is as steady as ever, like this moment isn’t something to dwell on. You pierce your lips in a tight line. You carefully picked up your pen again, correcting the error with a shaky hand.

“Thanks for telling me.” you mutter, embarrassed but grateful.

“You were talking about your favorite teacher, earlier.” he reminds you a little while later, after your thoughts derail mid-sentence.

You’d been telling him about a memory. It was a rare one, where everything about it was good. It was such a warm, fuzzy one that had felt so clear in your mind just moments ago—but now it’s slipping away, leaving you grasping at straws.

You look at him, feeling lost. “I... was?”

“You were.” he confirms with a small nod, his tone encouraging. “You said they were the first people to notice how much you liked writing. You were just getting to the part about their funny laugh.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right!” you whisper, the thread of the memory slowly weaving its way back into focus. “Right. Mr. Greene. He laughed like a seagull.”

Megumi doesn’t laugh at the description, but his lips twitch in what might be the ghost of a smile. That was a rare thing, you knew that. But you like to think that maybe, just maybe, if he tried — he would look even better when he smiled. He already has a handsome face, you knew that. But maybe, his smile, it would make it even better.

“That’s it.” he says, his voice carrying a quiet kind of approval.

It’s small, these moments of clarity he gives you, but they feel monumental in a life that’s slowly crumbling. For a moment, you feel like you’ve reclaimed a small piece of yourself, and you can’t help but glance at him, wondering how someone like him, a reaper, of all things can make you feel more alive than you have in a long time.

You can’t help but admit it but he was your first true friend.

He was your longest companion to boot, with that.

And perhaps, he will be the only constant you’ll ever have.

But maybe he already knew that and he just doesn’t tell you.

He accompanies you often, especially in the long, quiet hours spent tethered to hospital machines. The hum of monitors and the rhythmic drip of IVs become a backdrop to his steady, unobtrusive presence. At first, you think he’s only there to observe, to do whatever grim reapers are supposed to do as your life ticks away.

But the longer he stays, the more you realize he’s keeping you company at every appointment. Keeping you from being so alone. Even if it was his job, he could wait elsewhere. But he sits beside you, in an empty chair no one dares sit at.

And he stays, throughout each and every appointment. Appointments which barely keep you alive. It was only a matter of time before he had to deliver your soul to wherever it had to be.

You started to wonder if he’ll think about this time with you too. If he will find this moment to be something that will cross his mind once this job, you, were done and gone.

It’s strange, this relationship you’ve fallen into. He doesn’t talk much unless prompted, not unless you forgot something or need anything. But you like to think that you could start to rely on his silence. Especially when doctors and nurses give you all those complicated jargons that you didn’t even need.

It fills the void in a way words can’t. When you’re too tired to make conversation with visitors, when there are visitors, probably motivated by guilt or necessity, your grim reaper Megumi is there. Unfailingly, he would be sitting by your bedside, his gaze steady, his presence grounding. As though he wants to give you strength to deal with it all.

But of course, as you already know, no one else can see him. Just you. At first, you tried explaining him to the nurses, the doctors, or when you felt like talking about something you knew he would listen to — but the looks they gave you were enough to stop. They chalked it up to the illness, the stress, or the medications.

But Megumi is real. You know he’s real. The way he moves, the way he seems to sense your thoughts before you speak them, the way he exists on the edges of your life without ever intruding.

The way a glint in his eyes would appear warmer than before. He was here. He was there with you. You weren’t going crazy. And he knew that too. He was the only one that knew that.

One day, in the suffocating stillness of the hospital ward, you finally ask him the question that’s been gnawing at the edges of your mind. The pale light filtering through the blinds casts long shadows on the sterile white walls.

And the quiet hum of distant monitors feels unbearably loud. You shift uncomfortably in your bed, clutching the thin blanket as if it could anchor you to something solid.

“Why are you here?” The words escape your lips before you can stop them. Your voice is quiet, hesitant, but the question feels monumental, breaking the fragile peace between you.

Megumi doesn’t look surprised. He’s seated in the chair by your bed, one leg crossed over the other, his posture as calm as always. His gaze lifts from the book he’s been reading, something he always seems to have in his hands.

Though you’ve never seen him get past the halfway mark. He seems to be carrying it as though it was a prayer book he was forced to hold at a sermon at church.

“To watch you.” he says simply, his tone neutral. There’s no elaboration, no attempt to soften the starkness of his answer. As though it was almost like his words were that of fact. You furrow your brow, confused.

“I know that….But why? Why do you keep on watching me this closely?” you press, the weight of his presence suddenly more tangible. He isn’t like the nurses or the doctors who flit in and out of the room. He doesn’t belong here—not in the way they do.

“Are you uncomfortable about it?”

You blinked at him, your mouth agape for a moment. “N–no.”

“Okay, then. I’ll continue on doing what I want.”

You didn’t speak for a moment. You like to think that it was all you were going to get from him. So you just sighed, leaning against your hospital bed and closing your eyes. This was the most he’d ever talk to you, and perhaps the longest. That could be a win, right?

“For you.” He spoke again, as though he couldn’t handle the silence between you.

“For me?” you echo, your voice almost a whisper. The words feel foreign, as though they belong to someone else. “What does that mean?”

He tilts his head slightly, considering your question. There’s a flicker of something in his eyes—an emotion you can’t name. Not pity, not detachment, but something softer. “Does my reason matter?”

“You have me curious now.” You whisper to him, letting out a small laugh. “What was your reason?” you ask him again.

Though deep down, you think you already know. The thought lodges itself in your chest, sharp and unwelcome. Megumi doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped loosely together. His gaze holds yours for some time, steady and unwavering.

“I made a promise I’d like to keep.” he says finally, the words carrying a gravity that makes your breath hitch.

“What promise?”

His eyes narrowed at you, almost as though it was full of hurt. “You don’t want to know.”

The suffocating stillness of the room presses down on you, but somehow, his presence feels like a small crack of light breaking through the weight of it all. You want to ask more—how he knows, why he cares, but the words catch in your throat, tangled in the storm of your thoughts.

It’s such a brief answer, yet it lingers with you long after the words fade. There’s no pity in his voice, no judgment, just a quiet truth that settles like a blanket over your weary mind. And in some inexplicable way, that’s enough.

So, instead you nod, a small, almost imperceptible gesture. It’s not acceptance, not yet, but maybe it’s the beginning of it. And Megumi, patient as ever, doesn’t push for more. He simply stays, his quiet presence a reminder that, whatever happens, you won’t face it alone.

Over time, Megumi’s presence becomes less foreboding and more… comforting. If someone told you a grim reaper could be anything close to a friend, you would’ve laughed. But now? You’re not so sure.

He still doesn’t talk much, but the moments he does are starting to feel less like obligations and more like. Well, like he cares. His dry humor catches you off guard sometimes, a quiet chuckle slipping from his lips when you grumble about hospital food or tell him a ridiculous story from your childhood that you’re shocked you even remember.

“They let you keep a pet fish in third grade?” he asks one day, his eyebrow quirking ever so slightly.

“Let me? No, I smuggled it back to the orphanage.” you reply, puffing your chest out like it’s something to be proud of. “Named him Mr. Bubbles. He lived in a mason jar by our shared windowsill until one of the staff found him.”

Megumi gives you a sidelong glance, and for a second, you think he’s about to scold you. But instead, his lips quirk into the tiniest smile. “Mr. Bubbles, huh.” he repeats, almost to himself, and the sound of it in his voice makes your chest feel light.

He’s always a comfort in the painful days of longevity treatments. You were getting even worse, not even the precious medication was working. Megumi was the one to urge you to continue, even if they were never going to do anything for you.

After all, he was here for a reason. Nothing was going to help. And yet, he still insists that having more time is better than having little.

This time, you like to think you could agree with him. With more time, you could continue to have Megumi by your side. You could continue to have conversations with him.

You could continue to see his small ghostly smiles and find him sitting there beside you, looking through pages of that book he never reads. You could have more time living, experiencing some good in your life – a good that was waiting on death’s door.

Sitting in the chair beside you, his legs crossed casually, as though he’s simply there for the ambiance and not because you’re hooked up to an IV that feels like it’s siphoning the life out of you. Sometimes, you fall asleep mid-session, and when you wake up, you find him sitting exactly as he was, as if not a single moment has passed for him.

“I wasn’t sleeping at all.” you insist groggily one day, blinking the drowsiness away. “How could you even know I was sleeping at all? I know, it’s my body!”

“You were drooling.” he counters flatly, gesturing toward your chin. “Look, it’s still there in the corner of your lips.”

You hurriedly swipe at your face, heat rushing to your cheeks. “I was not!”

His expression doesn’t change, but you swear there’s a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. He could be a trickster when he wants to be. He could be silly from time to time. And funny enough with that dry humor that you could cry tears as you laugh so hard at what he says.

Despite his initial stoicism, Megumi starts picking up on your quirks, learning the things that make you smile. And most days now, especially now with these horrible and miserable treatments, you looked forward to them.

Like the time he noticed you doodling on the edge of your treatment log and, the next day, casually handed you a pack of gel pens. Your face conforms to a confused daze as you look at him and then at the gel pens in your hand. There were so many that you don’t even think you could count them.

“How the hell did you get this, Megumi?” You asked him, your eyes narrowing at him. “Why are there so many?”

“They were free.” he said, refusing to meet your eyes as you stared at the colorful bundle in awe.

“From where?” you asked, skeptical at his response to you.

“Places.” He still wasn’t looking at you.

“Megumi.” you drawled, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Do you want the pens or not?” he huffed, crossing his arms in a way that made him look surprisingly boyish. “They’re really good too. I tried them downstairs. And they’re free. What? Is the security going to look at your bag when you leave? This isn’t a mall, you know.”

You looked at him for a moment, dumbfounded at his sudden ridiculous tirade. Then slowly, your tummy rumbled as you laughed and laughed. The notion of it all was silly. Still, you were entertained by it. Megumi seemed glad that you laughed. And that you went along with all of it.

You took the pens, of course. You put them in your bag after he handed it to you. No one checked it and for the rest of the day, you tried them and made little doodles with them on your notepad at home. And that day, for the first time in a long time, you felt genuinely happy.

As much as Megumi claims he’s only there to “watch” you as part of his job, you found that it’s obvious he’s doing more than that. He’s doing the most out of all grim reapers you like to think.

Of course, you don’t know any other grim reapers. And you doubt you’d look sane if you tried to bring it up to another dying person. But your grim reaper, at least you, was the kindest.

As you settle into bed, the hospital room bathed in the faint glow of a bedside lamp, you glance over at Megumi. He’s sitting in his usual chair, arms folded loosely, his expression calm but watchful.

It’s become routine now. His quiet presence is a constant that you’ve come to rely on, though you’d never admit it outright.

“I think you must be the kindest grim reaper to ever exist.” you say suddenly, the words spilling out before you can stop them.

Your voice is soft, worn out from the day, but it carries the weight of sincerity. Megumi raises an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Do you know any other grim reapers?” he asks, his tone laced with dry humor.

You chuckle, a sound that feels lighter than it has in weeks. “No, not at all.” you admit, smiling despite yourself. “But I don’t need to. You’ve set the bar pretty high, do you know that?”

He doesn’t respond, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—amusement, maybe, or perhaps a glimmer of gratitude he’d never put into words. His lips purse into a flat line, as he looks at you. You could tell that there’s something in his green–blue orbs that you couldn’t read. But you knew better than to ask.

“Thank you, Megumi.” you say after a moment, your voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

“For what?” he asks, his gaze steady on you.

“For being the first good thing in my life.” you say simply, your chest tightening as you force the words out.

It feels strange to say, especially to someone like him. You know you shouldn’t be thanking the person meant to take your soul, the one who will guide you into the unknown. But it feels right. You swallow hard, looking away for a moment before meeting his eyes again.

“I know it sounds ridiculous. Thanking a grim reaper. But I mean it. You were... the kindest thing in my destiny. And I think that’s enough to be happy about.”

Megumi doesn’t say anything right away. He doesn’t need to. The faintest nod of his head, the subtle softening of his usually stoic expression, is answer enough. The weight in your chest eases as you let your head sink into the pillow. Your eyelids grow heavy, and you fight to keep them open just a little longer.

“Goodnight, Megumi.” you murmur, your voice trailing off as sleep begins to take hold.

“Good night.” he says softly, his voice carrying a gentleness you hadn’t expected.

As your breathing slows, becoming steady and rhythmic, Megumi stays where he is, his gaze fixed on you. And he knows. He just knows—it’s time. Your time. The moment hangs in the air, heavy and bittersweet, but he doesn’t flinch.

This was always the inevitability, but watching you now, peaceful and free from the fear that had once gripped you, he feels something akin to relief. Perhaps even a quiet sadness.

When the time comes, Megumi will be there, as he always has been. For now, though, he lets you rest, a faint sense of solace settling over the room.

══════════════════

IF HE WAS BEING HONEST, THIS MISSION WASN’T EVEN FOR HIM TO TAKE. Megumi didn’t choose this assignment at random. No, not at all. That morning began like any other in the sterile monotony of his existence. The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead, casting a pale glow on the rows of cubicles where reapers sat, reviewing their tasks for the day.

He’d been staring at the dregs of his coffee, debating whether he had the energy to bother getting a fresh cup, when the assignments for the day appeared on the board—a mosaic of names, dates, faces.

He’d glanced up, disinterested at first. It was just another day in an endless cycle of endings. Souls came and went, and reapers like him did their jobs, guiding them to whatever came next. There was no time for attachment, no reason to linger on a single name or face.

But then he saw yours.

And everything stopped.

His coffee cup slipped from his fingers, shattering against the floor in a muted crash. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. He blinked once, twice, as if his eyes might be playing tricks on him. But no matter how many times he looked, it was unmistakable.

It was you.

Your face stared back at him from the board, frozen in a candid snapshot. It was a face he knew better than his own, even after all this time. A face he’d never forgotten, not even through lifetimes of distance.

It had been so long since he’d last seen you. Lifetimes ago, you had been more than just a part of his world—you had been his world. The memories were fractured and blurred at the edges, but they still burned vividly enough to hurt.

He remembered your laugh, bright and unrestrained, echoing through a life that had otherwise been far too short. He remembered the way you had looked at him, your gaze full of trust, full of hope.

He remembered losing you.

And now here you are again, pulled into this cycle of life and death that neither of you could escape. But this time, you were already dying. You were going to go and suffer again, and there would be no one to save you. He couldn’t stop it last time. And now, he cannot stop it this time. It was set in stone already.

And yet, his heart breaks over and over again. You were barely more than a child, younger than either of you had been in your shared past life. You hadn’t even been given a chance to live, and yet the world had decided it was already time to take you away.

Megumi’s heart ached in a way he hadn’t thought possible anymore. He was a reaper. He wasn’t supposed to feel like this. He wasn’t supposed to feel anything. But as he stared at your photo, the weight of it all crushed him.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that you’d been taken from him once, and now it was happening all over again. This time, there would be no miracles, no last-minute reprieves. He knew that. He’d seen it a thousand times in other lives.

But he couldn’t just let you go alone.

Without thinking, he rose from his chair, his movements mechanical as he walked toward the board. Each step felt heavier than the last, his resolve hardening with every breath. When he reached your name, he stared at it for a long moment before finally speaking.

“I’ll take this one.” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

The room went silent. Assignments weren’t supposed to be chosen; they were distributed at random to avoid any emotional entanglements. Reapers were meant to be impartial. But no one questioned him. Megumi rarely spoke, rarely asked for anything. If he wanted this assignment, there had to be a reason.

As he returned to his desk, your face still fresh in his mind, he made himself a quiet promise. He couldn’t save you. The rules were clear. Your fate was already written, and nothing he did could change that.

But he could be there. He could make sure you didn’t have to face the end alone, that you wouldn’t have to feel the crushing loneliness he’d once felt when he lost you before.

Even if you didn’t remember him. Even if you didn’t know that in another life, you had been his entire world. He would carry that pain for both of you. Because this wasn’t just another assignment. It was you. And losing you again, even knowing it was inevitable, would be the cruelest fate of all.

When Megumi first appeared to you, he knew he had to keep his emotions in check. His job wasn’t to interfere, and no matter how much it hurt to see you again, he couldn’t let the truth slip. You didn’t know who he was, didn’t recognize the connection you’d once shared.

And why would you? To you, he was just a stranger. A quiet, brooding figure who had been assigned to shadow your dying days.

At first, he told himself that keeping his distance would make it easier. That if he stayed aloof, if he acted like this was just another assignment, maybe the ache in his chest wouldn’t consume him. But the moment he saw how lonely you were, trapped in a hospital bed, tethered to machines, fading faster than anyone your age should—he couldn’t help himself.

It was the little things at first. Reminding you of a nurse’s name when your memory failed. Offering a quiet presence during your treatments. Bringing you that pack of gel pens when he noticed your fingers twitching over the edges of your journal, longing to create something amidst the monotony of hospital life.

But as the days turned into weeks, Megumi found himself doing more than he should.

He started sitting closer to you, his usual stoic demeanor softening with every conversation. He started bringing you small comforts—a cup of coffee he swore he “found” a scarf on the day the hospital felt too cold, a faint smile when you told him a joke, no matter how bad it was.

“Why do you even hang around?” you asked one afternoon, your voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and weariness.

You’d just finished another grueling medicinal session, your body too weak to sit up straight. He didn’t answer right away. For a moment, his gaze lingered on you, something unreadable in his dark blue–green eyes. Then, he shrugged.

“You’re interesting to me.” he said simply, but his voice betrayed the truth he couldn’t say.

You laughed weakly. “Interesting? I’m a walking tragedy.”

“No, never say that. Not ever again.” he said firmly, his tone surprising you. “You’re more than that. You are more than your tragedy.”

The words hung in the air, and you didn’t press further. But in that moment, something shifted between you. As time went on, you began to look forward to his visits. He wasn’t just a reaper to you anymore; he was someone who made the unbearable a little more bearable.

Someone who listened when you needed to vent, who stayed when the nights felt too long, who reminded you that even in the shadow of death, you weren’t invisible. And Megumi… Megumi was breaking all his own rules. Rules he had set long after you, long before you again.

Every time he saw you laugh, even if it was just a fleeting chuckle, a part of him swore he’d do anything to keep that spark alive. But every time he saw you struggle; when your hands trembled too much to hold a pen, when your memories slipped further and further away—his heart ached in ways it hadn’t in centuries.

He hated this. Hated that you had to go through this. Hated that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t change your fate. But he stayed by your side through it all. He lets himself relive it all over again, no matter the pain. No matter what comes. Because it’s you. Come what may, it’s you.

“You know, Megumi.” you said softly, your voice almost drowned out by the hum of the machines. “You’re not so bad to me.”

He raised an eyebrow, but there was a faint twitch at the corner of his lips. “Not so bad?”

You smiled, your eyes heavy with exhaustion but still warm. “Yeah. You’re like... a friend. A precious friend.”

A friend. The word stabbed at him more than it should have. Because that’s all he could ever be to you in this life. A friend. A shadow. A quiet presence watching over you as you slowly slipped away.

“You think so, huh?” He asks you, as you nodded and smiled. Silence engulfs the room. “I don’t think I’ve ever been someone’s precious friend before.”

“Then we are the same. Well, almost.”

He blinks at your words. “What do you mean?”

“If you call me your precious friend too, then we’ll finally have it. Being a precious person, at least once.”

You’ve always been a precious person to me. Megumi thinks to himself. In every lifetime, in every you — you have always been my precious person.

And even though he would never tell you the truth, that you’d been so much more to him in another life, that losing you once had broken him and losing you again was killing him all over again, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away.

Because this was his last chance to be with you, even if you didn’t remember him. Even if it would never be enough. Nothing with you would ever be enough, not even if you lived a thousand years.

But, every moment is worth it, no matter how short it would be. When you love someone that much, it has to be enough. It has to be more than enough. He has to live through this immortal and wretched life, making those moments feel like they were as eternal as him. Even if he wanted more.

“Alright.” Megumi says to you as you perk up, your eyes shining. “You are a precious person to me.”

You giggled at his words. “Was it so hard to say? I am grateful that you said it at all.”

It was never hard to say. It never had been.

But now he has to live that memory over and over again.

He lets his lips echo a small warm smile as he looks at you.

“No, no it wasn’t hard at all.”

══════════════════

THE TREATMENTS HAVE STOPPED FULLY. And because of that your condition was getting worse and worse. The moments of clarity you once had were growing fewer and farther between. The pain in your body became an unwelcome constant, a weight that pulled you down even when you tried to fight against it.

Every movement felt like dragging yourself through glass, and the fog in your mind thickened, stealing memories and thoughts before you could fully grasp them. Everything about it felt so fragile, and you were afraid of breaking it. Even if it was already broken, you were scared at seeing it break even more. You were scared and he couldn’t do much about it.

Megumi hated seeing you like this. He watched as you lay curled in your bed, tears streaming silently down your face, your breathing shaky and uneven. He hated the way your hands trembled as you gripped the blanket.

It was as if holding onto it might keep you tethered to something real. Something solid enough to bring you back to earth, to existence. To humanity. Hated the way your voice cracked when you spoke, each word laced with frustration and grief over what was slipping away from you.

“I hate this, I hate this.” you whispered one night, your voice barely audible. Your chest hitched with a quiet sob as you turned your face into the pillow, trying to muffle your cries. “I hate... not being able to think. To remember. I feel like I’m disappearing, and I can’t stop it.”

Megumi clenched his fists at his sides, his nails biting into his palms. He wanted to say something, to comfort you, but the words felt like ash in his throat. What could he say? That it would be okay? That you’d find peace? That this agony would end? None of it felt true, and none of it would matter to you at this moment.

You didn’t want peace. You wanted your life back.When you looked up at him, your eyes red and swollen, the sight nearly broke him. You looked so weak, one couldn’t even think you were someone with such strength at one point. He hated this. He hated how miserable you’ve been, how pained you’ve been.

“I’m so tired, Megumi.” you admitted, your voice cracking as fresh tears welled in your eyes. “I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

Megumi moved closer, his steps slow and deliberate, as if he were afraid his presence might shatter you further. He sat at the edge of your bed, his usually impassive face shadowed with something raw and unguarded.

“You’re still you, you always will be.” he said quietly, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

You let out a bitter laugh, though it came out more like a choked sob. “How do you know that? You don’t even really know me.”

He froze for a moment, his gaze dropping to his hands. He wanted to tell you that he did know you, better than anyone ever could. That he remembered you in ways you couldn’t even begin to imagine. But he couldn’t. Not now.

Instead, he reached out, his hand hovering over yours for a moment before he let it settle gently against your trembling fingers. The touch was warm, grounding, and for a moment, the chaos inside you stilled.

“I know because I saw it. I’ve seen it all, even for a while.” he said finally. “Even when you’re hurting, even when it feels like everything is falling apart, I see you.”

His words hung in the air, fragile but steady, and something in your expression slowly softened. You leaned closer to him and he didn’t mind it at all. He pulled you even closer, letting that warmth of him become even more felt.

“It’s okay to be angry about all of this.” he continued, his voice steady now. “It’s okay to cry. You’ve been fighting so hard, for so long. You don’t have to hold it all in.”

Your tears flowed freely then, and Megumi stayed right where he was, his hand never leaving yours. He didn’t try to stop your sobs or hush your pain. He simply stayed, letting you pour out everything you’d been holding back. And for the first time in centuries, in his entire lifetime — Megumi couldn’t help but feel unequivocally helpless.

He was a reaper, meant to guide and observe, but watching you crumble under the weight of your illness was unbearable. You didn’t deserve all of this. You shouldn’t suffer like this. You had done nothing wrong, not in your previous life and not this one. But this was still your fate.

And he hated the unfairness of it all, the cruelty of a life that had given you so little only to take it away too soon. If he could have taken your place, he would have done it without hesitation.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t trade a life for a life. The gods do not have mercy in that regard. Fate was fate. He cannot do much about it. And he hates it. He hates seeing you like this.

All he could do was stay by your side, no matter how much it hurt to watch. Because you deserved that much. You deserve someone who wouldn’t leave, even in your darkest moments. And Megumi would be damned if he let you face this alone.

As the night deepened, the room fell into a heavy, fragile silence. The only sounds were the steady hum of the machines and your quiet, uneven breaths as you lay spent from crying. Megumi hadn’t moved from his spot, his hand still lightly covering yours.

Your fingers twitched against his, seeking more warmth. The motion was subtle, but he noticed. Carefully, he threaded his fingers between yours, his grip firm but not overbearing. You didn’t pull away. Instead, your grip tightened just a little, like you were holding on to him for dear life.

“Why do you stay?” you asked, your voice hoarse from the tears but tinged with something vulnerable. You didn’t meet his eyes, staring instead at the faint outline of his hand entwined with yours.

Megumi hesitated. He wasn’t good at this—at talking about feelings. He was better at quiet gestures and staying in the background. But something about the way you asked, so small and uncertain, pulled the words out of him.

“Because you shouldn’t have to go through this alone, jot ever.” he said softly, his gaze fixed on you.

You blinked at his answer, a lump forming in your throat. “But you don’t even know me, not at all, Megumi.” you repeated, weaker this time, as if you wanted to believe him but couldn’t quite bring yourself to. “How could you stay for someone like me?”

Megumi’s jaw tightened.

You didn’t know half of it.

“I know enough.” he said finally. “I know you’re stubborn and strong, even when you feel like you’re not. I know you don’t like hospital food, but you’ll eat it anyway because you don’t want to make the nurses worry. I know you still draw on the edges of your notebooks, even when your hands shake so much that the lines go crooked.”

Your eyes widened slightly at his words and Megumi felt his heart clench at the way you were looking at him, like you were seeing him for the first time. And as though, it was the first time in a while you had known him that he truly saw you.

“I see you.” he said again, his voice barely above a whisper. “Every part of you, even the ones you think you’ve lost. They’re still there. You’re still here.”

You felt the tears welling up again, but this time, they weren’t from frustration or anger. They were something softer, quieter. You take a deep breath, to calm yourself for a moment.

And he brushes your hand against your own. He was so warm, even when your hands were cold. He warmed you enough back to life, even for just that moment.

“You make it sound like I’m worth something.” you murmured, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips.

“You are. You always have been.” he said instantly, the conviction in his voice startling you. “More than you know. I promise you.”

Your chest ached, not from the illness this time, but from the overwhelming mixture of emotions his words stirred in you. It was almost too much, but at the same time, you didn’t want him to stop. You didn’t want him to stop bringing you back to life. You didn’t want him to stop giving you reasons to want to live.

“Megumi.” you said quietly, finally looking up at him.

His name sounded different coming from you, like it carried more weight, more meaning than it ever had before. It was as warm as back then, when you would say his name and smile at him, like he was your world. Like he was someone you dearly loved.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice softer now, like he was afraid of breaking the moment.

You hesitated, your dulling eyes searching for something you couldn’t quite put into words. Then, with a shaky breath, you smiled—a real smile, small but genuine.“Thank you. For all you have done for me, for all you will ever do for me. Thank you.”

Megumi’s lips couldn’t help but twitch at your words, and for the first time, he allowed himself to give you a wide smile in return. It was faint, almost imperceptible, but it was there, and it was for you, only for you. And you knew that it was only for you.

“Don’t mention it.” he said, his usual stoicism creeping back into his tone, but there was an undeniable warmth beneath it.

That night, as you finally drifted off to sleep, your hand still holding his, Megumi stayed by your side. He watched the rise and fall of your chest, each breath a reminder that you were still here, still fighting. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Megumi let himself hope.

Not for a miracle, no. He wasn’t foolish enough to believe in those anymore—but for something smaller. He hoped that in the time you had left, he could make sure you knew you weren’t just a fleeting soul, a name on a list, a face on a board.

You were everything to him, even if you never remembered why. And as he sat there, his hand still holding yours in the quiet of the night, he thought that maybe, just maybe, he could carry that truth for both of you.

══════════════════

HE KNEW THAT HE CAN’T KEEP BUYING TIME. That’s not how it works in this line of work. The higher-ups had been patient with Megumi for as long as they could. They had watched from a distance as he ignored the rules, as he lingered at your side longer than necessary.

He had been told once, perhaps twice, that his attachment was blurring the lines of his duty. But no one had come forward to confront him, not until now.

The meeting room was cold, sterile—just like all the others. It was almost like the hospital. It even smells like it too. The flickering lights did nothing to soften the sharp voices of his superiors, their words cutting through him like a blade. Megumi has always hated this room. As much as you hate the hospitals.

He has lived for a long time. He has been in the reaper department for so long, he doesn’t even remember when he had started. But no matter how many times he stays in it, the smell will always linger and he hates it. Just as much as he hates the higher-ups, perhaps. Yet, he knew he couldn’t admit it out loud.

“Megumi, this isn’t working any longer.” One of them had said it, their voice cutting through the stale air of the room like a blade, sharp with frustration.

The council sat in their cold, unfeeling silence, their dark robes blending into the shadows that clung to the room. The words echoed in Megumi’s ears, even as he sat still, his fists clenched tightly under the table.

“They are already dying,” the voice continued, each word hammering against him. “You know this, you always have. Fate cannot be changed. You cannot keep delaying it. You’re prolonging their suffering, and you know it. We cannot let this go on any longer.”

Megumi’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. His blue-green eyes stayed fixed on the floor, a storm brewing behind them. He didn’t argue, didn’t defend himself, because deep down, he knew they were right. He could feel it every time he saw you.

In this way your body grew weaker with each passing day, as if life itself was slipping through your fingers. Each breath you took was a silent battle, and every glance you gave him carried an unspoken understanding that your time was coming.

But what they didn’t understand, what they couldn’t understand, was why he couldn’t just let go. Not yet. Not when your laughter still lingered in the corners of the hospital room.

Not when you still found the strength to smile at him, even through the haze of your pain. Not when you had thanked him—thanked him—for being the kindest thing in your life. How could he take that away from you? How could he take it away from himself?

“It’s not for your benefit that they should stay alive, you know that.” another elder said, their voice low but unyielding, like a hammer falling against stone. “Do it for their sake. The sooner you do it, the sooner they can find peace. You mustn’t prolong the suffering for your wants.”

The words cut deeper than Megumi would ever admit, a blow he wasn’t prepared for. His fists tightened until his nails bit into his palms, but he kept his gaze down, unwilling to let them see the flicker of defiance in his eyes.

He wanted to scream at them, to tell them they didn’t understand, that it wasn’t about his wants, it never had been. It was about you. About giving you every last moment, every fleeting second that you deserved, no matter how much it hurt him to watch.

But none of that mattered to them. The rules were the rules. His mission was clear: guide souls to the other side, no matter the cost, no matter the pain. He was meant to be impartial, detached, but he wasn’t. Not this time.

As the meeting adjourned, their final words hung in the air like a noose tightening around his neck. “You have to let them go, Megumi.” the elder had said, their tone devoid of sympathy. “It’s not about you. It’s about them. Do what must be done.”

When the room emptied, Megumi remained seated, his shoulders heavy with the weight of their judgment. He wanted to argue, to push back against the inevitability they demanded he enforce. But deep down, he knew he couldn’t delay forever.

He could feel the edges of your life fraying, could see the way the light in your eyes flickered, like a candle in its final moments. And yet, even as he sat there, alone in the suffocating silence, he made a decision.

Not yet.

Because you deserve those moments, however brief they might be. You deserved the warmth of the sun on your skin, the chance to smile one more time, the chance to feel something other than pain before the end. And if he could give you that, even at the cost of his own heart, he would.

But he also knew the truth, the one he couldn’t ignore forever. Time wasn’t on your side. And when the moment came, when the inevitability could no longer be postponed, Megumi would have to let you go.

Just not today.

Not yet.

He needs more time.

When the meeting ended, Megumi didn’t move. He couldn’t. His mind was too heavy with the weight of their demands, and yet his heart felt too torn to process it. He takes a moment to compose himself before he walks out.

As he walked out into the hallway, he wasn’t surprised to find Gojo Satoru waiting for him, leaning casually against the wall with that ever-present, cocky grin on his face. The two of them had known each other for lifetimes, especially with how Gojo was now his boss.

Though Gojo was the opposite of Megumi in nearly every way. Where Megumi was reserved and quiet, Gojo was loud and unapologetic. He hated the elders too, he hated the rules as much as Megumi too.

But he had never let himself be swallowed by what he feels personally as he works. And Gojo Satoru knew that too well, when he saw that look in Megumi’s face. He had not taught him well enough to separate it all.

“Megumi, hey.” Gojo said, his voice a little more serious than usual. “Can we talk?”

Without waiting for an answer, Gojo pushed himself off the wall and fell into step beside Megumi, leading him down a quieter hall away from the bustling administrative wing. He already knew what he was going to say.

But Megumi wishes he wouldn’t say it. Because when Gojo says it, it becomes even more real. It becomes even more true. And it’s something he can’t handle. Not right now.

“I know what you’re thinking, okay?” Gojo began, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. “And I know it’s hard.”

He’s saying it. He’s talking about it. There was nothing that would stop it from being real. Not anymore. Megumi didn’t answer, he didn’t want to. He didn’t need to.

Gojo Satoru could always read him, could always sense what was going on under the surface, even when Megumi tried to hide it. He was always going to tell Megumi the truth, even when it was hard.

“I don’t get it, Gojo–san.” Megumi said, his voice low, rough from the strain of keeping it all in. “I know the rules. I know they have to go. But… but I can’t just let them die like this. Not again. Not this miserably.”

He stopped in the middle of the hallway, turning to face Gojo, his face a mix of frustration and sorrow. “They’re suffering so much and miserable to boot, and I’m supposed to just… let them go? How is that even fair?”

Gojo’s expression softened, the usual smugness gone, replaced by something much more genuine. He took a step closer, his hands in his pockets as he regarded Megumi with quiet understanding. He takes a deep sigh.

“I know it’s not easy, kid.” Gojo said, his voice lower now, almost tender. “But this isn’t about what you want. You’re not their savior, Megumi. You’re their guide. You can’t heal them, that’s not part of the job description. It never was. You can’t protect them from everything.”

The words stung, sharper than Megumi expected.

But it was the truth, the unavoidable truth.

This was a job, even if it meant the world to him.

It cannot be more than a job, not even like this.

“I know you care about them. Hell, you’re probably more attached than anyone in this damn place,” Gojo continued, the hint of a wry smile tugging at his lips. “But your job is to make them transition to something peaceful. To comfort them. Not to prolong their suffering because you’re too scared to let them go.”

Megumi looked away, his blue–green eyes burning with the weight of his own guilt. He could feel them water ever so slowly as he thinks about you, about everything you suffered — in all your lives. And now, when you suffered the most. He bit his lower lip. How could he just let it all go?

“I can’t just stand by and watch them die, Gojo–san.” he whispered, his voice shaking slightly, betraying the deep ache inside him. “Not like this. Not when I… when I care about them this much. Not when….Not when I love them so much.”

Gojo Satoru’s gaze softened further, taking a moment to sigh at him. He’d known Megumi for so long. He’s a good kid, he’s always been the best of everyone here, if he was being honest. But even now, he was still so human. And perhaps that is his weakness. He cannot be a reaper, and be human too. He cannot have both.

“I know, kid. I know.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “But this is the hardest part. You have to be strong for them now. It’s time. And you have to do your job. You have to help them let go. That’s the only way they’ll be able to be free from the pain, okay? If you do your job. They’ll be free. And it can be, if anything, the greatest act of love.”

Megumi wanted to argue, wanted to lash out and scream that it wasn’t fair, that this wasn’t right. But something in Gojo’s cerulean eyes made him stop. Gojo Satoru wasn’t just talking about the rules; he was talking about them. About the person Megumi had come to love more than anything in this world, someone who was ever so dear to him in each and every lifetime.

He was right. He can’t do anything about death or about fate. And he was right — death was the greatest mercy, instead of suffering. This could be the greatest act of love, as it had always been in each lifetime. To be there for you, to hold your hand and whisper all the love he has in your ear as you go. To set you free.

The truth was hard to swallow, but the reality was clearer than ever. Your suffering wasn’t going to end unless he let you go. And if he truly cared about you, he would have to find the strength to be the one to guide you to peace. With a deep breath, Megumi nodded, the weight of his decision settling in.

“I’ll do it, Gojo–san.” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “I’ll make sure they’re at peace.”

Gojo gave him a small, approving nod. “You’re doing the right thing.”

Megumi knew it would be one of the hardest things he’d ever do. But as he turned back down to earth, to the hall toward where you were waiting, his heart heavy with the knowledge of what was to come, he also knew it was the only way to truly set you free.

He just hoped that, somehow, you would understand. And that you would forgive him. That you would smile warmly back at him once again, when you meet him again in your next life. That you could love him again, if you can.

══════════════════

HE BRACED HIMSELF FOR WHAT COMES NEXT. Megumi stood outside your hospital room, his heart heavy in his chest. The hallway was unnervingly quiet, the soft beep of monitors and the occasional shuffle of nurses’ footsteps the only sounds that kept him tethered to reality.

He had never been so sure of something—so certain that this moment had arrived. It was time. He swallowed hard, fighting the lump in his throat, before pushing the door open and stepping inside. Having done it once didn’t make it any easier. If anything, it made it harder. He’d have to relive this moment over and over again, like all the other times.

But he had no other choice. If you were to die, he’d rather it be him holding you. He would rather it be him you hurt, leave a scar only he could see. Megumi would rather that he would be the one to comfort you one last time, to tell you that he’s got you. That everything will be alright. Because you were together. Because he was the one taking you away.

You were there, propped up against the pillows, looking so small under the white sheets. Your face was pale, your features drawn and tired, but when you saw him, your expression softened, and a faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

"You're here again, hm?" you said, your voice hoarse but warm.

Megumi stood frozen for a moment, the sight of you sending a wave of emotions crashing over him. You looked so fragile, so close to the edge, and yet here you were, smiling at him like nothing was wrong. Like you hadn’t been battling this slow, painful decline for so long.

He forced his lips into a small, bittersweet smile. "Of course I’m here."

You sat up a little straighter in your bed, your eyes trying to focus on him. There was a faint sense of confusion in them, as if the fog in your mind was thicker than usual today. You reached out, your hand trembling slightly as you sought his, and Megumi moved closer, carefully taking your hand in his.

"I didn’t know if you'd come today, you know." you murmured, your voice barely a whisper. “For the last time.”

Megumi felt the weight of your words press against his chest. You couldn’t remember everything, not anymore, but you remembered him. And somehow, that was a mercy. A small one, but a mercy nonetheless. He hated it, but it was all he had. It was all there was left.

"I’m always here when you need me, always." he said quietly, his voice unsteady despite the calm he tried to project. "You know that, right?"

You nodded slowly, as though trying to make sense of everything that was slipping through your fingers. The memory of his voice, the sensation of his presence, the feel of his hand in yours—it was enough to pull you back from the brink.

"I... I don’t remember... a lot." you confessed, your voice faltering, as though you were apologizing for something you couldn’t control. "But... I remember you."

Megumi’s heart squeezed at that, and he fought the urge to crumble. Don’t show weakness now, he told himself. Not with them. Not when they need you the most. Don’t falter. Love them, love them even if it hurts.

“I’ll always be here.” he repeated softly, gently squeezing your hand. “You’ve always been important to me. You always will be.”

You tried to smile again, though it was faint, and the effort seemed to take everything out of you. "I wish I could remember everything... all the good stuff we did together. There was a lot, wasn’t it? Even before…..I’m sorry if I don’t remember it all. But I can remember you right now, Megumi. I hope that’s enough. I hope…I hope that’s alright."

He felt his eyes sting, but he held it back, keeping his gaze steady on yours. "That’s enough. That’s more than enough."

Your grip tightened a little on his hand, your eyes slowly drifting over his face, as if committing his features to memory, trying to remember every detail of him before the fog came back.

"It’s always so funny to me." you whispered, a soft laugh escaping your lips despite the heaviness in the air. "You don’t look like a grim reaper."

Megumi chuckled quietly, the sound devoid of any real humor. "I get that a lot."

The silence stretched between you both, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt almost peaceful, like the calm before the storm. You leaned back against the pillows, but you didn’t let go of his hand.There were so many things he wanted to say to you.

So many words that were caught in his throat, threatening to spill over. But now—now there was no time for them. No time for the confessions, for the truth he’d never dared to speak. He simply stayed there, sitting at your side, holding your hand, because that was all he could do.

When you spoke again, it was quieter, slower. "I don’t want to forget you, not ever, not now." you said, your voice so fragile, so raw. "But I know I will. I already am."

Megumi shook his head, his thumb brushing lightly across the back of your hand, as though to comfort you, even though the words he wanted to say wouldn’t come. He couldn't promise you anything, couldn't tell you that this would all be okay, because it wouldn’t be.

“I’ll never forget you.” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll remember for the both of us. Even when you aren’t here anymore.”

“Then….will you let me fall in love with you again, if I were to be reborn?” You asked him, tears in your eyes pouring down your cheeks. “Will you let me, Megumi?”

His breath hitches shakily. His lips wobbled into a small watery smile. “Of course, I will. You can love me as many times as you want. I’ll let you do it. Over and over again.”

You choked into a giggle. “Then….Then, I’m glad. I’m forgetful, after all. It’s good, you’ll remind me next time.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that. Even at the end, you were taking care of him. You were making sure he wasn’t sad. You looked at him, really looked at him, and for a brief moment, the confusion in your eyes faded.

The fog cleared, just a little, and you smiled. It was a small, soft smile, but it was there, and it was for him. All for him. As it always has been. You take a moment, a breath. He waits patiently for what you want to say.

“I wish…..” you whispered, your voice trailing off as your eyes fluttered closed, exhaustion finally taking over.

Megumi’s chest tightened as he waited.

But the words never came out of your lips.

As you slipped into a quiet sleep, your breath steady and calm, Megumi stayed by your side, his hand still holding yours. He knew it wasn’t enough to stop what was coming. But for now, he will hold on. He will cherish the warmth that remains.

It was the last time. The last time he would see you, the last time he would hear your voice, the last time he would get to make you feel comforted before you let go. And somehow, it was enough. Because you remembered him. And that was all that mattered now.

“I love you.” He whispers to you as he closes his eyes, letting the tears flow. “Goodbye.”

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dyna-myght · 23 hours ago

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I think the problem here w Arcane specifically doesn’t seem to be that the lesbian ship isn’t getting enough attention. From what I can tell by the Arcane tag on AO3, it has the most fics within the fandom. It’s more about how a lot of yaoi shippers will dismiss the lesbian ships outright. As the original post quotes stuff you can see in many fandoms, that Yaoi shippers treat lesbian ships as being “less gay”. A lot of this is due to how many Yaoi shippers are straight girls and women and tend to be quite lesbophobic and misogynistic. And it is 100% a problem that needs to be addressed. Maybe it could have been addressed better but OP was clearly posting in frustration and that is fair.

Nothing of this is telling Yaoi shippers to stop shipping the gay male ship, it’s more about how they need to be more respectful of lesbian ships in the same fandom. Especially when the lesbian ship *is* canon and the gay male ship isn’t. They need to stop trying to put down the canon lesbian ship to make themselves feel better about the gay male one not being canon.

“what’s gayer the lesbian sex or jayvik” the lesbians. the canon lesbians. can we focus on women loving women relationships for once and not try to bring ur fucking fake yaoi into Everything oh my god y’all piss me tf OFF

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amermaidsecretdiary · 2 days ago

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I'M QUITTING + MY VOID STATE SUCCESS STORY

Hello guys, it's been a long time since i have posted something or in general be active here which was mostly because of personal reasons (just focusing on myself), although one of them had to do with our community.

I personally joined loatumblr at the middle of 2022 (from a previous anonymous account i had) but i started posting much later. Back then, the community was at it's peak ngl. The bloggers and the way they explained stuff was honestly, at least for me, so helpful and enjoyable. After the end of 2023 - beginning of 2024 this community started dying. I really didn't like this since I loved scrolling through specific blogs and reading their posts. I tried to post some stuff to give a little bit of life in there and i guess it did help a little.

Quick note; Please don't get me wrong, i'm not saying that the current posts and blogs running right now suck.. what i'm saying is that this community used to be way more alive back then.

One of the reasons why this happened is because people applied and got what they wanted. So they logged off tumblr. When I realised that, I decided to seriously focus on loa and start applying myself. And i ended up manifesting some good stuff, and I was good with it. Although, after some time, i decided that i wanted to manifest a completely new life from scratch, which it was what i wanted to do from the first time i joined tumblr but i ditched that thought and ended up changing some stuff about my current life.

My goal back then was to enter the void state (which im pretty sure it was 95% of the people in here goal too), but i didn't understand it properly so i couldn't 'enter'. I ended up ditching it and manifested without it. But after some point, i did my research and fully understood the void state or better, pure consciousness. If you go through my blog, you won't see much stuff about pure consciousness because i choose to not talk about it in here. The way it is treated it loatumblr just pisses me off. If you post a void success story, people will immediately run to you and ask you basic stuff like 'how did u do it?' when all the information needed about it is already posted. People tend to see it as something 'huge' and believe they can't succeed in it which is bs. If you do a little bit of research on pure consciousness you will understand how simple it is. Although, even if the 'void state' is seem like something that people overcomplete this doesn't mean that you can not use it. What i'm saying is that there are some people who really dislike the concept of it and will recommend u not to try it. Look, everyone has their different opinions and beliefs but if you want to manifest your dream life in the void state, go ahead. After all, it found you for a reason.

So coming back to my experience, since it was always my 'dream' to manifest my dream life in the void state, i decided to do it now. I'm pretty good at lucid dreaming (i've been lucid dreaming 3 years now) i decided to tap into my pure consciousness during a lucid dream. So i did my usual routine, had a lucid dream in which i closed my eyes and found myself floating in a void. I affirmed that i have lucid dreams everynight and then i got out. I did this 4 days ago, and i have had around 3-4 lucid dreams every single night, without doing any practise at all. Also, i have been scripting my entire dream life and i'm preparing myself to finally experience it. I have decided to make a looottt of big changes but two of them are the 'biggest' for me; numb.1 i will manifest that i will completely forget about my current life (i will also not remember anything about the law, for personal reasons) and numb.2 i will go back in time around 30 years ago (again for personal reasons). I mentioned this to make it clear to you that i won't be able to post my 'success story' after manifesting it, since i will not remember anything about me manifesting stuff and also even if i did, i wouldn't be able to post it since i will not have access to tumblr or current technology in general. So my success story is this one. This days, when i find the right time for me, i will have a lucid dream as usual and tap into my pure consciousness again which from there, i will finally manifest the life of my dreams. So that's my final post you will see from me. I hope you all never give up and get what you want because trust me it's worth it and all this found u for a reason. If you really want it and you stay consistent, then it's all yours. My words can not describe the way i feel right now, knowing that i have my dream life right in front of me and i can just grab it and give it to myself anytime, after this big journey. Goodbye everyone :)

#success story #void success #loa success #goodbye #loa #law of assumption #loassumption #assume and persist #void state #manifestation #manifesting

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greenplumbboblover · 2 days ago

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[WIP] Lyralei's Pose addon - Part 2

(See previous post: Click me!)

First things first, MASSIVE thanks to @thesweetsimmer111 for all the help to make this work better and sharing her knowledge on Track masks with me (and the world!)

👀 Better Look at (with reactions!)

Maybe it’s just me, but I used to get endlessly frustrated when Sims wouldn’t properly turn their heads to face an item. So, I set out on a little mission to make their head movements more natural! Unfortunately, that didn’t go as planned—turns out EA’s code for the “Look At” feature is completely deprecated and no longer functional.

Knowing I couldn’t just code a fix, I had to explore other approaches. That’s when @thesweetsimmer111 came up with a brilliant solution: blending left, right, up, and down poses to create a more convincing look-at effect! 🎉

(See: Post)

What's different?

Here's the original pose, without Look at turned on....

On the left, we got VA's original look at.

On the right is what Savanita and I came up with! :)

don’t want to make it seem like the original Look At feature was awful—it actually works pretty well in some cases! For example, in this pose, if the plant were on the other side, the difference wouldn’t be that noticeable since her head is already tilted slightly. 😊

(Same layout again: Left = VA's, Right = Me and Savanita's approach)

Plus, maybe you do want something more subtle, then VA's Look at is great!

Anyways! Of course, I couldn't stop there! Now, your sim has a few options of turning towards the object:

(Note, this list will get 10x cooler in the next feature ;D)

This list is what the "trackmasks" are. :)

Okay, let's give "Eyes Only" a try. So, we expect Morgana to ONLY look at the plant, with her eyes.

(Left is before using look at, Right is with look at, and one up for fun-cies)

And, to please @nocturnalazure's wishes, yep! It now accepts Facial Expressions! :D

(I never would've thought I would see Evil Morgana lmao)

🎭Blending Poses/Reactions

After Savanita's amazing idea of using Track Masks, I found out that I can apply that same technique on, well, poses! And this is a feature I'm SUPER proud of (And honestly, it's taken me an entire week to get working 🙃)

First things first, when we choose the interaction, we will first be greeted by our "trackmask" list with all the selections on it

So, I made a few examples to show of what you could do, but in all fairness, it's endless!

Here I chose the option "Both Arms".

Here I chose "Head And Neck". Look! She even has the expression! (Don't worry though, i also have an expression-less version in the making ;))

What about... Animations?!

While blending poses has the ability to also type in your pose names by name, rather than list, you can also use EA's!

The list is pretty long ( believe 200 entries?) but here is a sneak peek:

Though, as far as I've been able to tell, EA reactions aren't as flexible, where I can tell it to only use the arms, or the eyes. Instead, we got these options:

So, unless I found a way to get around it, this is the only way to do it.

But without further ado....

Here I used the same pose(left) as the last 2 pictures, but with "OverlayHead". And chose "Boo"

(I just realised it looks like she is about to get hit by a ball lol)

🕰️ History List

The Add-on now remembers your pose history!

Whether you’re a dedicated “Pose by Name” user or prefer the simplicity of “Show by List”, both options now display your pose history for quick reference.

Note: Each Sim has their own individual history list. This means you’ll only see the pose history for Sim X when clicking on them, and not for Sim Y.

📓What's up next?

Adding all the trackmask. (I still need add the hands and legs ones)

Adding an in-game Category maker, so you don't have to edit the XML. It will mean you need to replace the XML file in S3PE yourself. But I can always make a quick How-To for guidance 😉

(Note to self) Optimize the Categorisation code. It's currently taking 1 minute up from the loading screen 😬)

Fixing some minor bugs where Look at will still turn the sim's head back to it's original position.

Fixing some issues where Blending poses with certain track masks aren't working well or at all.

Fixing an issue where the dialogs can crash the whole game (woops!)

Sooo, I think a release date is pretty soon! I think within a week :)

Any VA Addon Bug Fixes?

Of course! It's the mod that inspired me to make stories, and even get to make this mod! I couldn't just... leave it to collect dust while it's other child mod is getting all the attention. :p

Changelog:

There is now an interaction that uses both look at & reaction simultaneously. (In case you don't want to use my look at interaction).

Fixed an issue where reactions would sometimes or never show on the sim.

Fixed an issue where using "Random Quick Poses" would occasionally show a breathing sim, doing nothing.

Fixed an issue where certain poses get called twice, making it harder to keep reactions or even look at history data.

Some minor code changes that aren't worth mentioning honestly.

#the sims 3 #ts3 #sims 3 #the sims #sims #ts3 simblr #lyralei's pose addon #sims 3 wip #ts3 wip #the sims 3 wip #wip

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darnell-la · 2 days ago

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Love your work! it’s so good, i was wondering if i could request another darkpervy!Logan and reader, She’s sleeping and he sneaks into her room and does whatever, you can decide if she wakes up or not and what they do, thank you!

note: we’ve been gone for a little, but we could never not come back with a dirty, dark, and pervy Logan Howlett post.

———

Logan wasn’t the type to think about secrets the group exposes on themselves on their drunk Friday nights, but what y/n had said earlier had been in his head for the last hour.

“Is it normal to, like, pass out after you finish? I’m not joking- Shop laughing!”

Everyone took what she said as a normal dirty secret, but Logan? God, he got hard within seconds of hearing her secret.

Now the man is outside of her room, listing through the thick door for her moans. He could tell she was close.

“F-Fuck,” y/n whined as her legs began to shake. Logan did his best to keep himself back from cumming right then. Her voice was enough to make a mess in his pants.

After Logan heard a few whines that sounded low and dead, he knocked on her door. He prayed she wouldn’t answer, and thank god she didn’t.

Logan quickly entered her room, closing and locking the door before anyone saw him in the hallway.

The man slowly turned around and met y/n’s sleeping body. She really wasn’t lying.

Logan was excited, heart pounding as his cock twitched. He knew tonight would be the best night he’s ever had.

“Can smell that pussy from over here…” Logan spoke low as he came up to her bed. He thought about taking his time, maybe eating her out or jerking off over her face, but he decided he needed to be in her.

Logan quickly undressed himself before hovering over her, getting in between her loose legs to spread them apart. “So perfect,” was all he could say.

Y/n isn’t too much of a heavy sleeper after she goes out after an orgasm, but for some reason, she hasn’t woken up yet. That orgasm had been one of the top bests.

“Gonna get this done quick and easy, okay, princes?” Logan spoke as he began pushing at her entrance, instantly feeling her tighten around his shaft. Logan groaned loudly as y/n whined, slowly waking up.

Y/n spoke, but Logan couldn’t understand her. She hadn’t even known what she said. She was out of it, and that only made her look better to the man.

“Keep it down, baby,” Logan said as y/n’s head slowly began to move, but she wasn’t fully awakened. She knew something was going on, but she felt pressure in her lower stomach and head. She felt a good kind of dizzy.

“So fuckin’ wet, Bub. You weren’t gonna tell me this? I thought we were close friends?” Logan said as his hands grabbed her lower body, pulling her into his now hard and deep thrust.

Y/n’s eyes squeezed before she tried opening them. She had failed a few times until they finally opened. That meant nothing though, as they were rolling to the back of her head from the sudden pleasure.

“Feels good, sweetheart? Tell me. Tell me you feel good, y/n”, Logan growled as he looked down at her smaller girl, watching her struggle to stay awake and take him.

“Lo?” Y/n asked, which came out as a whine. “Ah huh, I’m right here, baby. It’s me,” the man assured as her hands touched anywhere to grasp what was happening to her.

“L-Lo,” y/n whined, feeling his cock slip into her with ease as she grew more wet. Now she knew she was being fucked, but her brain still couldn’t comprehend the situation.

“Don’t worry — I’m close,” Logan spoke, confusing y/n as she slowly lifted her head. The young lady focused on what was thrust in and out of her cunt, and when she realized it, she couldn’t help but moan.

“Logan,” y/n whined, eyes still on the way his cock pushed into her. “You like it?” Logan asked again as one hand rested on the back of her head, keeping her up to see the view as the other strongly gripped her waist.

“I-I don’t know,” y/n said, but lord knew she loved this. “C’mon, Bub — Tell me you like it. You take me too good not to like it,” Logan said, feeling himself near. “I-I like it,” Y/n’s low voice echoed through his brain.

“Fuck yeah — You fuckin’ like it, baby? Like me having my way with your half-unconscious body?” Logan couldn’t stop thinking about how much he loved her being this way. He never knew this was a kink until earlier today.

“I-I do,” y/n replied right before a pool of cum gushed out of her. “Oh yeah, baby — That’s what I like to see,” Logan picked his pace up, feeling his cock goat h uncontrollably.

“Once I fill you up, I won’t be able to stop,”

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adimouze · 22 hours ago

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post-las vegas WDC max/daniel, rated M. ~1300 words. @girlsdads mentioned something about a lil bit of LL hating in a fic so. I did a lil bit of LL hating too.

A face floats into Max’s field of vision probably three hours into the fifth different party Max had been shepherded to since the race ended. He’s about ninety-percent sure he’s still in Las Vegas. He blinks blearily at it, hoping at least it’s pretty enough to look at. It has been a while since. Since.

Liam Lawson blinks back. Not who he was expecting. Gross.

“Max,” he says, sounding too sober for whatever time it is. The club is loud but Max can still unfortunately hear him. “Are you okay?”

Max attempts a sweeping gesture, he’s carrying a glass of something and it hits someone’s back, making Max drop it with a smash. Liam cringes, looking like he’s about to complain. “This is my party, mate,” Max says, cutting off whatever Liam was going to say. “I’m fucking great.”

“Christian just left,” Liam says, and Max kind of hates how he talks but what can you do. Maybe he just doesn’t like Liam. “I think there’s another party happening a few blocks from now, do you want to join me?”

If Christian left that means Max can leave without theoretically offending anybody, even though it is his party. Half of the people around him don’t seem like people he knows anyway. “Nah man, you go on ahead, I’ll head back to the hotel –”

“Oh then I’ll head back with you,” Liam’s probably the most cheerful he’s been since Max met him. “Yuki scored and left me here.”

Pity isn’t something Max feels often, but he does feel a bit of pity now. In his first year he was never left alone in clubs, either Carlos or Daniel were always there making sure they were around to get him back to wherever before they took someone home or to their hotel rooms. More often it was Daniel, and more often Daniel didn’t take anyone home, because they were sharing a room and more often it was just fun to watch onboards together, side by side.

No one else but them.

Then again, Max was a teenager in his first year and Liam’s twenty-two. He wouldn’t need babysitting.

“Alright,” Max isn’t sure where he is. He doesn’t know how to ask Liam without sounding like an absolute idiot.

“I have a car waiting,” Liam adds, after Max stared off into the distance for a few seconds, willing someone to appear with a car. Maybe Max isn’t being as subtle as he thought he was.

_____

Red Bull and VCARB drivers are often put up in the same hotel, usually the standard room but Helmut had finangled him a penthouse upgrade on Thursday, telling Max that he deserved a proper room to party in, like Max was going to bring home an orgy.

He’s pretty sure Liam couldn’t possibly have gotten a penthouse upgrade too. He’s sure hotels only have one penthouse? He’s sure. If he was less drunk he would be surer. But Liam makes no move to push any buttons.

“Mind if I come up for a nightcap?” Liam asks, smiling. This is the most Max has seen him smile ever since he got Daniel…ever since Daniel left and he jumped in the car. Max does not want him to come up for a nightcap but Max is feeling generous tonight.

“Sure, why not.” Someone had spilled what seems like a bottle of champagne on him at some point in the night and his shirt is sticking to him. He’s too tired to shower. Meh. It’ll be a problem for hungover Max tomorrow.

The lift goes up insanely fast but still feels too slow for Max tonight. He’s WDC, four times WDC, he’s used to faster things, sue him. Liam is still staring at him.

“Good driving tonight,” Max says, for want of anything better to do or say. He has no idea where Liam finished to be honest.

“I finished 16,” Liam says flatly. Yikes. Well.

The door dings open onto Max’s floor. And.

Daniel’s sitting on the giant sectional of the penthouse living room.

He looks gorgeous. Max wants to stare forever. He looks broad and good and tanned, his beard has filled in a lot more than when Max last saw him in Monaco, his hair thicker. The sweatshirt he’s wearing looks less oversized than usual, fitting his shoulders instead of drooping over them, and his trousers make his thighs look great.

He’s smirking. He looks like a frat guy. He looks like one of those men from Victoria’s magazines that Max definitely didn’t jerk off over.

Max is probably drooling, and Liam runs into him as he’s stepping out of the lift.

“Oh sorry mate I – Daniel, hello.” Liam’s voice is a bit high. Confused. Probably scared. “Didn’t realize you were in Vegas. Red Bull didn’t…”

Daniel stands up and comes over. Max is still staring. Daniel moves like an apex predator and Liam’s just the runt of litter in this. “Hey Liam. Well. Red Bull doesn’t own me anymore mate, do they? I can be wherever I want.”

He claps Liam on the shoulder in greeting then grabs Max’s limp hand. “Came to see my boy be the World Champion again.”

Liam’s probably saying something but Max doesn’t care, because Daniel’s pulling him in, arms going around Max, sticky shirt and all, and Max is going to swoon because Daniel smells good, good, good, their lips meeting after ages, Daniel’s lips and tongue the best, most refreshing thing Max has tasted all night. Someone’s moaning.

It’s him.

“Um…”

Liam’s still there.

Max tries to pull back but Daniel’s got his hands on his ass, lifting, lifting, and Max’s legs going around him in response, and Daniel’s got them on the sofa in a second, Max perched on Daniel’s wide wide thighs without even separating their lips once. It’s the hottest thing Max has ever felt. He’s going to come just from the thought alone.

“Liam,” Daniel’s saying, pulling back a few centimeters to give Max some breathing space. “I’m going to fuck my husband on this sofa right now, and he’s going to be screaming loud enough to be heard from the moon. So like,” he pops the k, and Max’s dick twitches, precome dripping into his underwear, “unless you want a front row seat to that for some reason, shouldn’t you be heading to bed?”

“Husband?” Liam’s stuttering. “Excuse me? You can’t – Does Christian know? He’s going to be so mad at you, Max what the fuck –?”

“Get out,” Daniel says. Max has never heard him sound like that. “Now.”

“I’m calling Christian,” Liam says as a parting shot. “He won’t – he’s not going to allow this.”

“Yeah you do that, mate,” Daniel rolls his eyes then squeezes Max’s ass harder. God, he’s so hot. Max feels insane. Husband husband husband. “What’s he going to do, fire me again?”

The lift dings shut again. They’re blessedly alone.

“Husband?” Max snorts, shivering as Daniel’s fingers undo his pant buttons. “Bit presumptuous of you, don’t you think?”

“The ring’s in the suitcase, baby,” Daniel says, smiling like a wolf, fingers curling around Max’s dick. Max grinds into the feeling, needing Daniel inside him right now. This is the best day of his life. “Was hoping you’d say yes.”

“Let me think about it,” Max laughs, and Daniel bites his nipple through his shirt. “Liam’s probably told the Herald by now.”

“I’ll personally send him the wedding photos,” Daniel cackles, licking up Max’s neck, leaving wet trails in the cold air con of the room, “if he promises to send me photos of Christian when he tells him I was about to fuck him in front of you.”

“Stop talking about Christian and fuck the World Champion already, husband,” Max says, his laughter turning into moans when Daniel all too willingly complies.

#max verstappen #maxiel #f1 #daniel ricciardo #dr3 #my fic

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days ago

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Meet the Family 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.(petite!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: I love writing toxic people.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

“Mr. Hansen--” You begin, choking on your error, “Lloyd, my flight--”

“Christ, I told you, cancel it. I’ll add the difference to your next check,” he grits under his breath.

You plant your feet, shifting despite your effort as he keeps his grip on your hand. He turns back with a grunt.

“What’re you doing?” He asks.

“No, what are you doing?” You throw back. “What the hell is going on?”

“First, watch that sweet mouth of yours. Second, we’ve been through this, Pixie pie. You just need to play along,” he keeps his voice low and peeks over his shoulder. “Loosen up a bit.” He loosens his hold on you and runs his hand up your sleeve. “Hm, I guess I shoulda told you to dress up a bit.”

“What?” You look down at your black cotton tea-length dress. You chose it for comfort but it’s not entirely frumpy. The ribbed stockings might not add much to the attire however.

“Just...” He grabs your shoulders and nudges them back, “push the chest out a bit.”

“Ugh,” you clasp onto his wrists, “stop. Okay. I’ll stay for dinner but I can’t miss my flight--”

“You have to,” he argues.

“You realise this is wildly inappropriate,” you say.

“Do you really expect anything different?” He tweaks a brow. “You’re staying. I’m not doing this alone. I put it off for a decade already--”

“Jesus--”

“No blasphemy either,” he lets go of you and presses his finger to your lips. You growl and shove his hand away.

“I want a bonus, a big bonus--”

He hushes you and waves his hands. He leans back and once more looks over his shoulders. “Later. We’ll deal with numbers in private. Right now, you need to come meet your in-laws.”

You squint at him. It’s an act, you remind yourself, but something about his commitment to it makes you uneasy. You know better than to believe a word that comes out of his mouth but there’s a degree of earnestness in him that’s unsettling.

“Baby, please, don’t look at me like that,” he steps closer, “I need you to look at me like I’m the second coming, okay? We’re madly in love, you and I.” Your eyes widen and he sighs, “okay, you’re not scared of me.”

You neutralise your expression and blow out a long breath. You shake away the tension and shrug. It’s as good as you can do.

“Here,” he grabs your wrist and turns, guiding your arm through his, “just smile pretty for me.”

He hooks your elbow with his and urges you onward. You steel yourself for the room of strangers as their voices drift through the archway.

You enter the front room and quickly scan the space; there’s a large-mouthed hearth, lit and draped in evergreen and berries; a long cream sectional, a matching duo of armchairs, and a chaise in the same shade; a low glass coffee table with a golden perch and a console table in a similar style along the wall crowded with bottles and crystal; an area rug in a smooth white with patterns in dulcet beige and rich butterscotch; and the low din is cast by tea lights daintily set around the space in glass holders and candelabra.

More pressing than the decor are the bodies that fill the room. You recognise Ransom as he speaks with an older woman with short white hair and thick-framed glasses. She wears a red pantsuit with a gold blouse. Very festive.

You glance over at Lloyd and take him in fully. You hadn’t paid much attention for the whirlwind all around. He wears a pair of evergreen slacks and a sweater with a reindeer's face on the front. He wouldn’t even let you put tinsel on your desk but now he’s dressed like a kid in a holiday parade.

“Looks like someone didn’t get the memo,” a tall blonde woman approaches with a glass of pale wine in hand. You try not to look with concern at her rounded middle; it sticks out starkly as her long limbs are thin and lithe. “A very grim Christmas indeed.”

“Lillian,” Lloyd faces the woman about his own height. She has his eyes and his lips. You assume their relation before he declares it. “My sister, Pixie,” he gestures to her carelessly.

“Older sister,” she preens and rests her hand on her swollen stomach. Your eyes flick away from the crystal in her hand.

“By about thirty-one seconds,” Lloyd scoffs.

“Oh, sweetie, it’s non-alcoholic,” she swirls the wine in her glass, “she’s so tiny and quiet.”

“Ahem,” you clear your throat, “it’s nice to meet you.”

She laughs, “oh, so polite. Entirely not his type.”

You try not to react. You agree. You know the women that Lloyd really likes. You’ve screened their calls until they just give up on getting a second date.

“Believe it or not, Lil, you’re not everyone’s type,” Lloyd retorts. “I think your ex-husband would agree. The second one too.” Lloyd lifts his chin and looks around, “is the third here or are we on number four?”

“Lovely,” she spits. “Love you too, brother.”

He shakes his head and draws you away from her. She raises her brows and her glass and sips. You let him take you away. You already despise most of these people. The room radiates with derision. Your family might have some grudges but there’s a general air of good will.

“I need a drink,” he mutters.

You gladly follow him to the table. He pours himself a tumbler from the boxy decanter. He sighs as he picks it up but stops himself from drinking.

“Well, help yourself,” he says.

You hesitate but not for long. You need something if you’re going to get through this. You pour yourself some chardonnay and sidle away from the table. You check your watch as you raise your glass.

“Don’t fucking worry about your flight,” he hisses under his breath. “If I’m not getting out of this, you aren’t either.”

“But why?” You ask behind the glass.

“Not right now,” he warns and nods at another figure as they approach. “Uncle Benson.”

“Junior,” the man returns. You drink your wine and don’t comment on the epithet. “Where’s the old man?”

“Where he always is,” Lloyd replies.

“Mm, and this is...” the older man looks at you pointedly, dipping his chin to do so.

“Pixie. My fiancee,” Lloyd answers dully, almost deflating.

“Benson,” the man offers his hand, “but a pretty girl like you can call me Benny.”

“Benny,” Lloyd repeats to himself in confusion.

You shake Benson’s hand, “um, thanks, nice to meet you.”

“Mm, very nice to meet you,” he lifts your hand and smushes his lips to your knuckles. He clings to you, petting your hand. “You’re gorgeous, what’re you doing with this lump?”

“Uncle,” Lloyd drones.

“Adorable,” Benson inches closer, “my inheritance is bigger than his, among other things.”

“Alright,” Lloyd snatches your hand away from him, “go have some water, Benson,” he growls, “think you’ve been into the brandy.”

“I’d like to get into something else,” Benson snickers.

You almost laugh, despite your disgust. You’ve heard that line before. Lloyd puts himself between you and the older man. “I think that’s why Carolyn filed the papers, huh.”

“Oh, you little twat,” Benson snarls. “Fine, fine, I’ll leave you to disappoint her on your own.”

Lloyd tuts and shakes his head as the man lumbers off. He turns around and drains his glass. It’s strange, seeing him in his natural habitat; he’s not so ‘alpha’ here.

“Let’s get the rounds over with.” He grumbles.

Your wine lasts you through the introductions. Two more uncles; Carter and Linus, along with their wives, Andrea and Angela. Then the full-blooded aunts; four of them, Raquel, Shanna, Beatrice, and Lana. All of them tall, blonde, and bold in their own way. Then a batch of cousins you can’t keep sorted; Ransom and his mother Linda, among them, with no explanation as to the rest of their tribe.

Lloyd pours himself more whiskey. You abstain from a refill and stand near the wall, observing the wilderness of entitled trust-funders. It explains so much yet inspires so many more questions. You never expected Lloyd to be the dark horse.

“Lonely?” The timbre startles you along with the twisting pinch on your ass.

You yipe and snag the attention of several sets of eyes around the room, not least of all Benson, drooling over another snifter of dark alcohol. You swat Ransom’s hand away and face him amid the row of laughter. Despite the airs they put on, your audience is more amused than appalled.

“Where’s your prince, huh?” Ransom asks. “All that whiskey and...” He holds up his index then lets it go limp, “don’t think it’ll be a very peppy after party, sweetheart.”

You sniff and cross your arms. These people are at least consistent, grossly so. It makes you wonder why Lloyd was so insistent that you watch your mouth, especially when you’ve never stooped to his level before.

“Is it much of a party if there’s only one attendee?” You counter.

He narrows his eyes and tilts his head, “what?”

“Nothing,” you shake our head. You don’t need to explain the joke. Besides, this is all fake. Don’t let it get to you.

“So, how long did he wait to put that ugly thing on your finger?” Ransom asks.

You shrug, “long enough.”

“Did he do the whole schtick? Get down on one knee? Put the ring in your wine glass?” He prods.

“I’ll let him tell the story,” you say.

“Hm, never knew a woman so unexcited about a wedding,” he snorts.

“Maybe I’m just unexcited by my company,” you back away as his hand jiggles at his side. You eye his fingers, wary of another pinch.

“Fine, marriage is boring anyways. What’s his favourite position? I always figured he lets the ladies do all the work,” he snickers.

You stare at him. Not quite as offended as annoyed. You could ask him which hand he uses but you are not letting Lloyd drag you that low. Why are you even letting him put your through this?

“Hugh,” Lloyd appears and slides his arm over your shoulders.

“Little L,” Ransom retorts dryly.

“Shut up,” Lloyd sneers as you resist the urge to shrug him off of you.

“Where were you then? Leaving your woman all on her lonesome,” Ransom rubs his fingers together subtly and you scowl at him.

“Broke the seal,” Lloyd deflects. “What do you care? You wanna hold it next time?

“Hands are too big,” Ransom cackles.

“Speaking of,” you pipe up. “The bathroom, where would that be?”

Lloyd clucks and looks down at you, “down the hall, opposite the kitchen.”

“Thanks,” you carefully slip away from him, “I’ll be back.”

“Wait,” Lloyd catches your arm and pulls you back. “Not without this.”

He leans in before you can react. He bends to press his lips to yours and you can’t repress a surprised squeak. He purrs and the vibration makes your skin crawl. What on earth?!

You part and ignore the stares you can feel all around. Not just from Ransom but the rest of the room. What is he doing? That’s so embarrassing.

You force a smile, “uh, be back.”

You spin and scurry away. That room, those people, are suffocating, and Lloyd, not least of all. You hide in the bathroom, locking the door, and you take the moment of stillness to think. Big mistake as it all starts to set in.

You drove all the way here under false pretenses. It’s believable that Lloyd would forget to bring the gifts. That tracks but this? The whole pretending to be engaged? What is his game? Is he really trying to impress anyone or is he torturing you? Why?

You can’t figure any of it out. You gave up trying to understand your boss ages ago, you suppose you should do the same with these people and just get through this. For all your trouble, the food better be fucking delicious.

You let yourself out of the bathroom and flatten against the door as you nearly collide with another person. Lillian nearly stomps right over you as she holds her stomach and rushes down the hallway. She lets out a sigh.

“Oh, are you done in there? I’m splitting at the seams,” she trills.

“Um, yeah, all done,” you sidle away from the door.

“Could I trouble you for some help?” She asks. “This thing,” she pats her stomach, “I can get down but I can’t get up.”

“Hm?” You furrow your brow in confusion, “help?”

“We’re both girls,” she giggles. “And we’ll be sisters soon enough, won’t we?”

“Um.”

“You know, a pregnancy at my age, I really can’t strain myself,” she explains.

“Oh, er, I guess--”

“Thanks, sweetie,” she nudges you back into the bathroom. You have no choice as she heard you through.

You stare at the wall as she slams the door and hustles over to the toilet. She pulls up her white dress and turns to sit, her silhouette a blur in your peripheral. You flick your eyes to the ceiling and bounce on your heels.

Her stream flows out and fills the tense silence. She sighs.

“Thank the lord,” she groans. “I swear, the little twerp is right on my bladder right now.”

“Mm,” you nod and glance at the door.

“I knew we should’ve gone with a surrogate,” she sniffs. “A piece of advice, when he puts one in you, make him suffer.”

“Puts one...” you blink. “Um, I don’t...”

“I mean, he’ll have to start trying as soon as the wedding night,” she laughs. “He’s getting up there. His swimmers won’t be as fast, will they? And the way he drinks, they’ll be too groggy to know which way is which.”

“Um, we’ll worry about the wedding first--”

“Enjoy it. Once you’re tied down, it’s not very much fun,” she says as she tears of tissue. “Alright then, darling, I need you.”

You do your best not to see all of her. She reaches for you and you get close. You pull her up to her feet and she squeezes past you to the sink. You look at the toilet and shut the lid, flushing it with a push of the button. She washes her hands with a hum.

“You’ll be so adorable when you’re big. Like an overstuffed teddy bear,” she chimes. “He’ll love that. He always did hate feeling small.” She twists off the faucet and dries her hands. “You must make him feel like the man he wishes he was.”

You just look at her. You have no true reason to defend Lloyd, but because she’s so smug it irks you. You look her in the face, even if you feel ridiculous having to look up.

“Well, he can piss on his own, so I think he’s just fine,” you step around her and swing open the door. The silence that follows you is the only satisfying thing about that night.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #series #fic #meet the family #the gray man

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strnilolover · 2 days ago

Text

NNN - chris sturniolo - long distances

You and Chris had been together for a little over a year, content with one another and the company each of you had to bring.

Before hand — you were good friends, best friends to be exact. Not with just him, but with his brothers too, and it was nice to know nothing really changed after putting a label on the two of you.

Chris and his brothers were already in their filming career when you had gotten together — making videos and posting them twice a week for their fan base that was already growing so large within a short amount of time.

Though, one day, while cuddled up with chris on your couch at your home — he broke the news to you.

He was moving to LA with Matt and Nick. Having already made enough money to afford a nice little place there. It was shocking to hear, and at first you were upset — upset with the fact you couldn’t see him everyday and you wouldn’t be around him when you needed him or wanted him.

But, the upset had been replaced with excitement over time. Thinking of all the possibilities for Chris and how amazing it was that he was able to do this with his brothers. And of all the stories you would be able to hear about his new life in a busy and bustling city.

When the day had finally come for him to move — it was spent with tears and hugs and promises to one another that everything would be okay.

And for the most part it was, you called every night — texted each other too many times through out the day and stayed connected. But, at some point things started to change. Chris grew more busy with work and with his clothing line he was starting, and the absence made you feel empty. Like he wasn’t even really there.

There were less calls, more messages being left on read or delivered — but Chris at least would tell you when he was busy and couldn’t talk, which you appreciated.

Eventually, everything began to weigh down on you. And you needed to tell him — needed to let him know how you were feeling. That you were having doubts.

Your room was quiet except for the faint hum of your laptop. Chris’ face filled the screen, his familiar features bathed in the soft light of his LA room. He looked tired, his curls messier than usual and his celtics hoodie hanging loosely on his frame. You tried to ignore the hollow ache in your chest as you smiled at him.

“How was your day?” you asked, forcing a casual tone as your eyes looked around your screen, taking in the view you’ve seen hundreds of times already.

Chris shrugged, leaning back against his chair. “Same as usual. Filmed with Nick and Matt, ran some errands. We tried this new sushi place for dinner. It was good, but, uh… not as good as Boston sushi.”

You let out a soft laugh, even though it stung a little. “Boston sushi is definitely better. How’s the apartment coming along?” you asked — a question that would slip here and there.

Chris shrugged slightly. “Fine, I guess. Still trying to figure out where to put everything. Matt thinks we need more stuff on the walls, but Nick keeps saying we don’t. It’s a whole thing.” He gave a faint smile, his voice lacking its usual warmth. “What about you? How was work?”

“Busy,” you said simply, picking at the edge of your blanket. “Came home, made dinner… I made too much again. I keep forgetting I’m just cooking for one now.” you admitted. Being so used to his presence all the time, you often made dinner for two people — it was still a hard adjustment.

Chris’ smile faltered, guilt flashing in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

You shook your head quickly, brushing it off. “It’s not your fault. I just need to get used to it still — even if it’s been a little.”

The conversation then faded into silence, and for a moment, all you could hear was the faint rustle of Chris adjusting his laptop. He looked away, his jaw tense, and you felt the words building in your chest — words you’d been too scared to say for weeks right on the tip of your tongue.

It was now or never.

“Chris,” you began hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Can we… uhm - can we talk about us?” the words slipping past your lips felt like a burn on your own tongue.

His gaze snapped back to you, his expression guarded. “What about us?”

You hesitated, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “I just… I feel like things have been different lately. At first, we were doing so well — texting all the time, FaceTiming every night. But now… I don’t know. It feels like we’re drifting apart.”

Chris’s brows furrowed at your words, his shoulders visibly tensing. “I’ve noticed it too,” he admitted after a pause. “I just didn’t know how to bring it up. I didn’t want to make things worse.”

You blinked, surprised by his honesty. “You didn’t think I’d feel the same?”

“I don’t know,” he said, running a hand through his curls. “I didn’t want to say anything and make you think I was doubting us or something. And I’m not. I love you. But this…” He gestured vaguely, his hand moving between him and the screen. “This is hard. Harder than I thought it’d be.”

The crack in his voice made your heart ache, but you nodded, tears stinging the corner of your eyes. “It is hard. I miss you so much, Chris. Some nights, it’s all I can think about — how empty this place feels without you here. And then I start wondering… what if we can’t do this? What if it’s too much?”

Chris’s eyes widened slightly, his panic evident. “Wait, are you saying you want to—”

“No!” you interrupted quickly, shaking your head. “No — Chris, that’s not what I mean. I just… I don’t know how to fix this. And I hate feeling like we’re not as close as we used to be.”

Chris let out a slow breath, his shoulders slumping. “I feel the same way,” he said quietly. “I hate that I can’t just drive over and see you when you’ve had a bad day. I hate that I can’t be there to hold you. And honestly… sometimes, I feel like I’m letting you down.”

“You’re not,” you said firmly, leaning closer to the screen. “Chris, you’re doing the best you can. We both are. But we need to be honest with each other if we’re going to make this work.”

He nodded slowly, his jaw tightening as he processed your words. “You’re right. I’ve been holding back because I didn’t want to make things worse, but… I guess that’s only made things harder. I’ve missed you so much, and it’s been killing me not to tell you how much I’ve been struggling with this.”

Tears now spilled down your cheeks, and you wiped them away quickly with your sleeve. “I’ve been struggling too. And I was scared to tell you because… what if it made you think I didn’t believe in us anymore? I do, Chris. I love you so much. I just… I didn’t know how to deal with all of this on my own.”

His expression softened, and he leaned closer to the camera, his voice gentle. “You don’t have to deal with it alone, okay? We’re in this together. And if that means being brutally honest about how much this sucks sometimes, then that’s what we’ll do.”

You laughed softly through your tears, nodding. “Deal. And… maybe we can try to plan our visits better. I need to see you, Chris. I think that’ll help a lot.” you whispered, feeling yourself ease up a little at the thought of him here — with you.

His lips quirked into a small smile. “Funny you should say that… I’ve been looking at flights to Boston. I was going to surprise you, but… maybe we need this sooner rather than later. I’ll come next month. No excuses.”

“Really?” you asked, your heart swelling with hope.

“Really,” he said, his smile growing. “I need to hold you again. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work.”

A weight lifted from your chest, and you smiled for what felt like the first time in weeks. “I’ll hold you to that,” you teased, your voice lighter.

Chris chuckled, the sound warming your heart. “I love you. And no matter how hard this gets, I’m not giving up on us. Ever.”

“I love you too,” you said softly. “And I promise… I’ll do everything I can to make this work too.”

It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it was a start. The rest of the night felt lighter — the ache in your chest still present but less. You both were more cheerful — joking around about random things and teasing him about how his hair was too messy — along with his room.

You smiled at your screen, watching as Chris did the same. His hand coming up to his lips and blowing you a kiss through the screen — and you blushed.

You’re just hoping that whatever was said tonight…was going to stick.

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laswells-ashtray · 3 days ago

Note

hi the post about soap buying ghost the blanket has been on my mind like all day and i have to hear more. if you have more. please. 🙏🙏🙏

this is the only ask I have right now that isn't about Sergeant Price and MacMillan so I welcome it happily. I'm running out of ideas for those two.

Soap bought the blanket as a pisstake, he'd walked past it in Home Bargains in September, it was out with the Halloween shite, and he'd bought it as a joke. Honestly, he'd expected Ghost to throw it away or give it to someone else.

He'd been in Simon's room more than once for... professional conversations between a sergeant and a lieutenant. And not once had he spotted the blanket, even when he was face down arse up on Ghost's bed. And that happened a shocking amount.

But then he walks in on Simon asleep with the blanket and he decides two things: Ghost is just a bloke and he urgently needs to wife up Simon Riley.

The next time they end up sprawled out in Simon's bed together, he asks about it.

"Ye ever use that blanket I gave you?"

"Yeah, I also rescue kittens and bake for the elderly."

Nevermind, he doesn't want to spend the rest of his life with an Englishman. He's better than that.

"Kept it for when the draft gets bad around here in the colder months." Simon admits quietly, like it's some kind of punishable offence that he's using a blanket for its intended purpose. Like enjoying a gift is a foreign experience.

The next time Johnny lands his arse in Simon's bed the blanket is there, coincidentally that's also the first night he sleeps in the Englishman's bed.

They fall asleep and Soap thinks nothing of it until he wakes up at around 3am, Simon is still dead asleep as are most people on base. He's firmly pinned under a quietly snoring lt. Simon is lying on top of him with a hand over his waist, but instead of grabbing onto him his hand is firmly gripping the edge of the blanket in a tight fist. And given how flat the edge of the blanket is, Soap has to assume he sleeps with that same edge in his hand most nights.

It isn't until one day they're all blethering that it makes sense. Gaz is talking about how his sister is expecting a baby and he's already bought the wee lassie her first bear, one like he used to have when he was wee. That becomes a whole other conversation.

"You didn't have a teddy bear when you were a kid? Really?!" Gaz sounds appalled but it doesn't surprise Soap, he can't imagine The Captain Price with a wee bear. He just imagines a toddler's body with Price's head.

"My old man would've had an aneurysm if I'd been caught with something as girly as a stuffed toy."

"I never had one either when I was a kid. Best I had was some ratty old blanket that Mum bought from a second-hand place." His reaction is subtle, the way he freezes and realisation washes over him. Ghost doesn't talk about his childhood a lot and they never ask. But suddenly everything makes sense to Soap.

The big and scary Ghost who spent his childhood comforted by some tattered old blanket. The same one who clutches the blanket Soap gave him so tightly that he worries about the strength if the fabric.

Soap can't judge, he wouldn't anyway but he truly can't because he used to sleep with a ratty old Chewbacca bear that he'd lob off of his sister's head when she would piss him off.

If later on he buys Simon another blanket to give him the choice between the two then that's his business. And if a simple stuffed bear with a silly and all too familiar hat appears in Price's office then that's Gaz's business.

#john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghostsoap #soapghost #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick

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jessilynallendilla · 2 days ago

Text

DPXDC BATFAM FIC REC

TITLE/LINK RATING COMPLETED-WORD-COUNT SERIES

DP FIC REC HOME POST

let me know if the links aren't working and feel free to suggest any

& BRUCE

City Of Last Hopes (The Long Homecoming) T

Bruce Wayne became a registered foster parent at the age of twenty when he decided to take in a newly orphaned Dick Grayson. The state of New Jersey and the city of Gotham decided to utilize that fact. Over the years, Bruce has fostered dozens of children, though they were all kept out of the limelight for their own protection. Some he was able to keep in contact with after they moved on from his home. Others, he wasn't. But the ones he worried about the most were the two that should have been his but weren't, were taken away, instead. It's been eleven years since Bruce last saw Jazz and Danny Fenton, and while he's grateful to know they're alive, he dearly wished he'd found them sooner.

All I Am To You Is A Tragedy, Right? M SERIES

Two years ago, Bruce Wayne lost his son, Danny, to one of the Fentons' botched inventions. Return to present day, he's come to another universe to retrieve something from Fenton Works. There, he finds another version of his son, alive and breathing. If Bruce could not keep his son, thanks to their incompetency, why should they keep theirs?

My Best Friend, Danny G

He had been frothing at the mouth to see Bruce take on the Mantle of the Bat that he hadn’t even thought of how he became Batman, at least not realistically. He knew because the comics told him so, but here and now, feeling Bruce’s tears drying on his skin, the warmth of the child’s back as he rested his hand there soothingly, Danny felt his own tears start to gather. He curled himself around Bruce’s slumbering body and cried softly

Finding Solace T

When working on a possible case in Amity Park, Bruce Wayne didn't expect to find a kid that would burrow he's way into his heart. A strange connection built, and before Bruce knew it, he found a new addition to the family. Well before they really needed each other.

Rendezvous T 766 SERIES

a king from another dimension approaches Batman to ask for help. This isn't the weirdest thing Bruce experiences that night.

Wayne's Haunted Mansion M SERIES

Something is wrong. Bruce notices it when he's not alone, but he feels like he is being watched. The bad part? He feels it both as Bruce Wayne and as Batman. Who is watching him? He's determined to find out. He regrets it when finds out that there is another child in his home, but one who is in desperate need of help.

To Fail And To Succeed T 6,940 SERIES

A very tired Bruce Wayne may have revealed to Vicki Vale that he wasn't as dumb as he pretended, so Brucie Wayne needs a stupid business venture to throw money at. What better than two paranormal scientists who swear they can build a portal to the Realm of the Dead? He didn't anticipate the damn thing actually working. And he certainly didn't anticipate watching another child die.

The Absolute Fuckery Caused By One Danny Fenton NR

Jazz got Bruce Wayne to temporarily get care of Danny to prevent anymore attacks from the G.I.W. towards her brother. A few flaws with this plan, Danny doesn't trust adults, rich people, or people who want to adopt him. Which Bruce Wayne technically fits all of. So Danny has come to the conclusion if he is going to be shacked up, mostly against his will, with another Fruitloops, he is going to enjoy himself, and hopefully get himself kicked out in the process.

Found In Gotham G 4,026 SERIES

Months after appearing in Metropolis, a teen with glowing white hair appears exploring Gotham's skyline. He appears to be looking for the city's main vigilante, so Batman approaches him.

Monsters At Your Doorstep T 1,907

Bruce falls into a cave of bats and meets the darkness-- or whatever it is that lives inside it.

Summons NR 17,295

Phantom was next in line for the throne of the Ghost Zone, however, he was still underage. He wouldn't be king for some time, yet when they summon the Ghost King now, someone still has to show up.

Long Live The King (The Ghost King Is Dead) T SERIES

Ghosts are attacking across the nation. The Justice League Dark's supernatural entity contacts either don't know anything or they refuse to talk. The government facilities that the ghosts are targeting refuse to offer any information, rather they are pushing for martial law that allows them to declare war against the attacking ghosts. Bruce's last lead is Jasmine Fenton, daughter of the deceased ecto-biologists Madeleine and Jack Fenton, currently imprisoned in Blackgate.

Oh, My Humanity T 4.466 SERIES

In one timeline, Bruce learns about Phantom's identity as the ghost falls to pieces in his arms. In another, Bruce finds out like this. Bruce copes like he always does: by falling apart at the seams. Otherwise known as: an alternate sequel to oh, the humanity, now with more emotional impact.

Timeline Unraveling T SERIES

Clockwork rescues old Bruce Wayne, Terry and Matt McGinnis, Max Gibson and Dana Tan from a collapsing timeline and brings them safely to Danny, who delivers them to a Gotham decades before most of them were born. Not only is it in the past, but it becomes obvious very quickly that this new past is drastically different. Jason's alive, the Joker's dead, Bruce has another child besides Dick, Tim and Jason, and Bruce actually goes to therapy. It's a lot of adjustment for both the timeline refugees and the people of the new timeline who are helping them.

Late At Night, When The Nightingale Sings T SERIES

Stumbling blindly through Gotham's night was not how Danny expected his evening to go -- but to be fair, Vlad injecting him with blood blossom extract was also NOT how he was expecting his evening to go. So it's a night of new surprises, and really Danny just wants to get away from his godfather as soon as possible before the man catches up to him, or before the blood blossom currently coursing through his veins and eating him raw killed him. Vlad is a man that likes to hide in the dark, it's unfortunate for him that Danny's learned to be a thing that hides in there too. From the corner of his unfocused eye he spots a man with horns dripping in shadows, hiding in an alleyway. Danny knows a kindred spirit when he sees one.

Zeus' Dice T SERIES

Two years, almost to the day, after the Great Amity Park Tragedy finds Danny Fenton, orphaned and alone, being handed over to his newest foster parent. But, unlike the others, this foster has a secret that could bring Danny back into the hero business. Because, unlike the others, this foster is a hero himself: He is Batman.

Ghosts Of Gotham T

Gotham has a ghost problem. And it's not the Amity Park kind of ghost problem. While Danny tries his hardest to stay out of the spotlight, his attempts to help the unseen population of Gotham lands him in a world of trouble. Now Bruce Wayne is offering him protection and he could be the only one with the ability to stop a new crime organisation from taking over his new home. OR People are going missing in Gotham and this new kid is keeping secrets. Bruce doesn't like this at all.

Voices That They Left T SERIES

When a new ghostly enemy cost Danny Fenton the lives of his friends and family, he wasn't expecting to get adopted by billionaire Bruce Wayne and move to Gotham. All he needs to do is survive two years until he can go back to live in Amity Park. Something dark is growing in him though, and it's stoking the bitterness and anger that burns inside.

& JASON

The Third Mother NR

For the past year, Jason Todd has been searching for his birth mother. There are three potential suspects for the identity of his mother. The first is an agent by the Israeli Secret Service by the name of Sharmin Rosen. The second is an assassin of world renown working under the name Lady Shiva. The third is revealed to be a false name. Dr. Sheila Haywood died before Jason was even born. When the first two leads turn out to be dead ends, Jason has only one way forward: visit Haywood's only living relative (who isn't off the grid): Her sister, Dr. Maddie Fenton. But the town of Amity Park has its own secrets, and they don't take too kindly to the Bats investigating their home...

Chasing Shadows T

As Bruce Wayne begins to slowly recover from the loss of his son, two separate mysteries open up old wounds. Who is the unknown leaving clues hinting at a return to Gotham, and who is the phantom pretending to be his lost son? Is it just a coincidence they're active in Gotham at the same time? Or are they connected?

Unearthed, Reborn M

24-year-old Danny isn't sure what, exactly, is going on when he stumbles on newly-formed halfa Jay in the Ghost Zone. Unfortunately, Jay can't really remember enough to give him any hints. Oh well, who needs to know their past anyway? This is Gotham; no one cares about your past here. Besides, Jay just got adopted by the weirdest trio of people he's ever met, so he's got more important things to focus on.

Ghosts? As My Therapy Animals? More Likely Than You Think. T 21,463

Jason is minding his own business, picking up strange green glowing goops with eyes, and living his not-very-best life. Meanwhile the Batfamily is tracking down flying dogs, overpowered Metas calling themselves ghosts, and someone is having far too much fun with the boxes around Gotham. But this ain't about them.

"Oh My God, I'm Becoming My Father." T

Dani needs money, there's only so long her human body can last without food, and she lost the credit card Sam gave her when she crash-landed in Gotham city bay. So, she decides she's going to go the one guy she knows exists in Gotham that will help a kid down on their luck no questions asked - Red Hood. Last time she'd seen Danny, he'd told her that there were rumours the Red Hood was undead, so he was the safest option for a halfa like her. So, she needed to ask *THE* undead crime lord of Gotham for a job. She didn't mean to get accidentally adopted.

The King Who Reigns Supreme NR

Jason rage episodes are getting worse and the family (reluctantly) calls for help. Enter Ghost King, and whatever is up with Todd is a lot more than what anyone could imagine.

Dead Men Walking T 2,406

“A knight who answers his King’s call is no interloper.”

“Do you answer my call, Jason Todd?” The Ghost King asks.

Before Those Hands Pulled Me From The Earth NR 1,626

When there was an alert about a disturbance at Jason’s grave the whole family was on edge. Or Danny wakes up in a coffin unable to faze out of it in his panic but Jason and Bruce come to his rescue

Reaper of Heroes (DC Edition) NR 1,527 SERIES

Once crowned Ghost King, Danny also gains another responsibility: reaping the souls of fallen heroes. After all, who better to collect them than a former hero like himself?

Dig Three Graves In Apartment 31c M 15,951 SERIES

Danny Fenton has the role of Willis Todd. There are lots of things to regret about Jason's upbringing

You're Not Yourself When Your Hangry G 2,803

Sam dragged Danny to a gala in Gotham while he is exhausted from fighting his rogues and school. He at least got to smuggle a thermos full of ectoplasm in, otherwise he'd have fallen asleep by now. Meanwhile, Tim and Jason are both just as sleep deprived as Danny, but still being forced to go to the gala. Some time after arriving Tim hides and a seething Jason goes looking for him and finds a tired guy that looks like Tim who offers him a thermos.

Batman's Cape T

Pain and Fear reverberate throughout the Infinate Realms, a wail rips through the air coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. Meanwhile on a table the Realms King to be lay strapped down, that which should not be seen lay bare to the eyes of the two in the room. Those he once called parents, Jack and Maddie Fenton held tools that seemed to shift to the macabre glowing all the while. He made a mistake, he let his guard down. They touched it. TheytouchedithelphelphelpneedsafesafesafesafesafeDamiDamiDamiDamiDamiSafeDamisafe. Jason knew something was wrong, did he have to admit it? No. He had been hearing screems -young screams- reverberating through what sure felt like his whole body along with pain searing just under his skin for a week now on and off. Plus it didn't' help that once the pain was gone the pit would take over and he would wake up like 2 states to the west with questionably clean hands and no recolection on how he got there.

̶G̶o̶o̶d̶ Bad Habits Run In The Family T

̶J̶a̶s̶o̶n̶ Red Hood found a teenager hurt in an alleyway, and since he was responsible for the people in his domain, he decided to take him back somewhere safe to take care of him. Turns out, there was a lot more to the situation than Red Hood would have ever anticipated. Including the fact that he was growing attached to the brat who seemed stubborn about everything.

Law Of Retribution NR SERIES

Jason starts seeing ghosts. Danny comes back to the Living Realm for the first time since the Incident. He has a job offer for Red Hood

Baby Ghosts And Baby Birds T

This is based off the prompt I made about both Danny and Jason being considered baby ghosts and being kidnapped by the other ghosts because Gotham is a bad place for babies.

Spelunking T 7,341 SERIES

Danny had just arrived at Wayne Manor after losing everything and convincing Vlad to take a break from trying to mold the kid to be his perfect son. Now, Danny needs to figure out where to hide his souvenir (*soup*venir?) from the Nasty Burger explosion. While doing so, he accidentally finds the BatCave and an unmasked Red Hood. What was it with billionaires and keeping creepy underground lairs

Zombie Prince Of The Infinite Realms T

On a business trip to Gotham, Danny Fenton, CEO of FentonWorks (and King of the Infinite Realms), feels something shift in the fabric of reality. Now he’s got an undead teenager whose soul doesn’t really fit his body anymore, and a whole lot of questions about why the local psychiatric facility functions as a “prison.”

The Moon Will Sing A Song (I Love You Like The Sun) T SERIES

Sometimes, grief has a gravity that you never get up from. And sometimes, it leaves little boys that have glass in their teeth and punch-scraped skin with a hole in their heart and blood in their mouth, and a five-year long taste for vengeance over the murder of their best friend. Gotham claws its way into the hearts of its children and leaves oil-smears on their souls. For Danny Fenton, he is no different and no better than the rest of his fellow kids of Crime Alley. It doesn't matter if he's been gone since he was eleven. Blood has always been a part of him, so it's second nature for him to pick up his fists and turn them into claws. It's how he's been taught, after all. And what he's also been taught, is that arrogance kills, and the Joker has been long since due for his fill. What's one more death in Gotham's long list of them?

Cradled In The Wails Of A King T 1,491 SERIES

Danny is in a meeting when he hears the screams of one of his most trusted guard. Dame Gotham screams until she can't anymore at the grave of a small bird, gone too soon. He checks for a soul and finds something... not so much alive as it is something dead being reanimated. Someone else to protect.

Starling T

The kid went by ‘Danny Phantom’. The next file was where things got interesting. A corrupted blood sample analysis had been put through the computers, where, along with a whole host of unknown compounds and chemicals, the DNA pinged several alleles, proving a potential familial match. A familial match to him. It couldn’t be. No. But the boy looked to be about the same age as he would have been, after Jason did a quick bit of mental math. But the hair and eyes were all wrong.

Throwdown Therapy T 30,714 SERIES

Danny hears about a suspicious character lurking around Gotham and decides to befriend him. Jason has no thoughts on the matter — mostly, he has a lot of empty-head green-tinged rage on the matter. This is less of a roadblock than one might expect. Danny thinks he might even be able to help the guy, if he can form enough of a relationship to bring up sensitive topics like "you have the ghostly equivalent of lead poisoning or maybe rabies, we aren't quite sure".

Adoption Isn’t All It’s Cracked Up To Be T

Danny Phantom escapes the Doctors Fenton and flees to Gotham with Jazz. Unfortunately, he looks quite similar to a certain Jason Todd around the time of his death. Kidnapped by the Batfam in a case of mistaken identity, Danny doesn’t have a good time and Jazz becomes a supervillain to look for him.

On Any Given Day (We’re Only Six Feet Away) T

Jason follows a lead and finds something he wasn’t looking for.

All I Have Is Freeze Dried Peaches and Packet Ramen, And They Aren’t Very Good But They’re all I Have T 1,804 SERIES

Everything’s gone. And it’s all Danny’s fault. Or; Jason finds a teenager on a roof. He assumes the worst. Or, or; Danny’s always preferred being up high. And he wasn’t so surprised by the vigilante that stopped by. He seems nice. Danny’s sorry for scaring him

Brain Fried NR

Danny flees the GIW, crashing into a dumpster in Gotham. Lucky for him, another being like him finds him. Jason is confused and concerned.

And I Turn Away To See, Proud Evening Star T

Jason finds Danny in an alleyway soaking wet and definitely having a fever and well, adoption genes be kicking in

The Song Of Healing T 2,001

What if it wasn't the waters of the Lazarus Pitt alone that could heal someone back from the dead- but the creatures that lurk within them? Takes place during Jason's revival from the Lazarus Pitts.

To Join The Whispers T 55,630 SERIES

A contact for the Batfamily passed along a rumor that the League of Assassins were investigating a small city called Amity Park. The old man and Tim managed to find evidence of unusual paranormal activity in the town. While they weren’t entirely certain it wasn’t just infested with metas, the locals believed the entities that haunted, for lack of a better word, the town were actual ghosts. If there was one thing Ra’s al Ghul didn’t need to get his grubby hands on, it was ghosts. That’s probably why Jason was doing this. He had the unfortunate luck to experience both death and resurrection in a way he’d never recommend to anyone else.

At The Core T

Danny finds a guy with a rather sickly core. Thankfully Frostbite can probably help with that. Meanwhile the Bat family is worried that Jason has been missing for so long.

Shrodinger’s Bat NR SERIES

The dirt wasn’t packed in as it should be. These graves looked fresh. Danny counted five graves like this in total. One was an outlier. Two were suspicious. But five? Someone was digging up graves in Gotham. Nearly one year after the death of Jason Todd, Danny Fenton arrives in Gotham City. Why is he there? And what does it have to do with Jason?

Surprise Halloween Haunting NR 2,153

Halloween month was always chaotic for Gotham, especially for the vigilantes guarding her. This Halloween, the Batboys found themselves captured by some cult as sacrifices. Stripped off their gears and chained to a chair, Jason found himself calling for help to get out of the situation.

& TIM

Ghosts, Legacies, And CPS T

Vlad's latest and greatest plan to get Danny to be his son is really, stupidly simple. He called CPS. Annoyingly effective, Jazz began to look into their family tree to see where else Danny could go. One surprise set of adoption paperwork later reveals an entire lineage none of the Fentons knew about: the Drakes, of which the only surviving member is their cousin, Tim Drake. Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained, so reaching out to Tim Drake it is. Meanwhile, Tim has been dealing with Ra’s al Ghul and a new player on the board calling themself Plasmius. Plasmius is a ghost, and a weird phone call reveals Tim’s related to ghost hunters, so obviously taking Danny in while CPS investigates the Fentons is just the logical outcome. Sure Bruce butts in, but ultimately, it just looks like an easy avenue for intel. Tim just didn’t anticipate Phantom and the utter chaos that comes with him.

Bones And All T

Tim comes along with Sebastian and some of his friends to a supposed haunted forest on the edge of Gotham City. They quickly find out that the forest really is haunted, but Tim comes to learn there's a much larger mystery at hand. And that mystery has to do with one Danny Fenton.

Teenage Hero Burnout #56: Interview With A Ghost. NR 2,881

Red Robin, (aka Tim Drake) decides to host a YouTube series called "Teenage Hero Burnout'' after he makes a video by the same name talking about his own experiences. He interviews current and past heroes who started their careers as teens and discuss how it shaped their outlook on heroing & life in general.

Phantom In Gotham T

On the run from his parents, Danny Fenton hides out in Gotham and catches the attention of the Bat family. Mishap after mishap leads Danny to be living on the streets, and going to school with Tim drake, who wonders about the strange new kid in his class. Will Bruce try to adopt another blue eyed black haired kid? Who knows!

Not Everyone Who Can Fight Is A Vigilante Or A Criminal G 1,461 SERIES

After a rogue attack on Gotham University’s campus, Danny and Tim notice that they both have impressive fighting skills. Danny suspects that Tim is a mob, while Tim suspects Danny is secretly a League of Shadows member and intends to gather more information about Danny.

I Can Feel My Body Shiver NR

Clockwork gives him a choice: to stay in the Infinite Realms and begin his term as the High King or to start fresh in another dimension. Danny is now living in Gotham. Even if it's definitely not a resort, he hopes he can finally find some peace so far from Amity Park. Of course, one particular bird notices him. Unfortunately, he isn't the only one.

A Bats Eye View NR 4,736 SERIES

Tims perspective from umm im an ambasador.

A Chill In The Batcave T

The Spirit of Gotham knows two things for sure… one, The Ghost King needed protection while he recovered and was able to form outside of his core. Two, The Dark Knight and his children were the best people to protect anything. So of course, she hides Danny’s core in the Batcave. Chaos and haunting ensues. Tim Drake is almost half certain that he didn’t used to hallucinate this much, even if he hasn’t slept in three days. And he was almost one hundred percent sure that they hadn’t gained another sibling while he was sleeping.

You're Gonna Be Sooo Haunted T

Tim Drake (aka red robin) accidentally "kills" a civilian while on patrol. Danny Fenton was not expecting to fall off a roof, but being the bored teen he was, decided it would be a great idea to mess with Gotham's vigilantes for a while.

TWINcognito Mode T 23,369

Danny, High King of the Infinite Realms, has been tricked into inhabiting the brainwashed and soulless clone of Tim Drake-Wayne. Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Industries and Red Robin, found a clone of himself that fought against Ra's brainwashing enough to request help. So Tim and Danny, upon both being cognizant enough to be on the same wavelength, looked at each other and decided hey; it's a free twin. Now how do we make that everyone elses problem?

A Successful Sacrifice T 3,065

Tim as Red Robin was killed when being sacrificed to summon Danny who was forced into his body

Serotonin M 3,388 SERIES

After his Accident, Danny had been prescribed antidepressants. He... might not have taken them. It hadn't been a problem until Bruce found out about them. Tim feels the aftermath more keenly than he'd cared to admit.

The Haunting Of Drake Manor T SERIES

Timothy Drake, son of amateur archaeologists, comes into possession of an antique oil lamp. It's plain enough, despite it's historic value— and it takes nothing at all to figure out how to light it. Alone on his birthday and left alone with a flame, Tim makes a wish. Desiree wakes up in the corpse of a human woman.

Creation Both Haunted And Holy G 11,449 SERIES

After looking into a new tourist family in Gotham, Tim finds himself in unexpected situation. Or, the Fenton's visit Gotham and try to build a ghost portal. It goes as well as you think it would.

A Little Overshadowing Never Hurt Anyone T SERIES

Danny gets kidnapped by the Batfam and seeks a way out, a little overshadowing never hurt anyone, right?

& ALFRED

Life Assurance T 7,206

Danny has inherited all contracts made with Pariah Dark but doesn’t know it until he finds himself pulling a bullet out of Bruce Wayne. In which Danny now has to negotiate with a old man over a life assurance policy he purchased.

Glimpse Of A Lifetime G

After years of working for the Waynes, age is finally catching up with the butler. Alfred mind seems to be elsewhere, and he begins to forget important things. Bruce refuses to accept that and seeks every possible solution. When he is about to give up he stumbles with an ancient legend: The Yeti

A Comet’s Flare NR 1,582

When Alfred hears a knock on the Manor doors, he thinks nothing of it. Bruce is still at WE for a little longer and the children of the manor at school, so he opens the heavy doors to tell the guest as such and take a message. Alfred could not tell you what it was that made his mouth dry out and his steps falter. But he could tell you with certainty that it had something to do with the way he did not gasp or feel his heart stutter in his chest. Instead, Alfred feels a wave of melancholy wash over him and steps aside to gesture the man in. “Would you like some tea, sir?” Perhaps this was a conversation that needed tea. He’d been putting it off for so long now.

Of Children And Tea Parties G 5,792 SERIES

Alfred Pennyworth is grateful that the Wayne family wasn't murdered. He is very willing to work with Bruce to lure their savior into a warm and safe home. But does the silent child want to come?

They Might Be Giants G 4,397

Alfred Pennyworth receives a phone call and is given custody over his recently orphaned nephew Danny Fenton.

Rock In The Churning Sea G

Alfred is a constant, in the mansion. That’s a given. A staple of life, a steady rock, there whenever he’s needed. What few know, however, is just how much of a constant he actually is in that mansion. For there’s only few who know he’s died.

Hold Down The (Blanket) Fort G 1,062 SERIES

Alfred finds his grandson awake later than he ought to be. Danny has a sweet reason why.

How To Adopt, The Bruce Wayne Way By Alfred Pennyworth G 1,879

Step One, Find a child. Step Two...

& DICK

Flying Grason And Circus Gothica G 4,934

There's a new circus in town and the batfam surprise Dick by taking him to go see it. He wants to enjoy it, really he does. It's just that, he can't shake the feeling that the boy on the tightrope isn't performing willingly

Here Lies Daniel James Fenton NR 4,284 SERIES

"You killed a man…" Danny twisted his mouth in distaste; that statement wasn't quite right.

"My Friend killed a man." He got the same tight-lipped smile with dead eyes as before.

"You killed a man." This statement was punctuated with a sharp nod as if the man had solved a tricky problem.

Phoenix Down T SERIES

Danny is Dick's son. Neither take it very well, when they find out.

The Firstborn Son T 7,500

Danny Phantom, a somewhat established ruler of the Ghost Zone, has unwittingly acquired a baby. And. Well. He can't exactly keep it in Pariah's Keep. He's no parent, not to mention the huge problem of how the air and sky destabilize human cellular structure. It would be convenient to have the baby's other parent take care of it... assuming that the man is entirely innocent of the plan to sell their offspring for immortality. There has to be a way to prove that the man is safer than the home the baby comes from. ...But the man has his own ward. Hm. Danny can exploit this. What's an assessment without a little test?

The Haunting Habit Of Adoption G 4,073

Dick Grayson is Bruce Wayne's newest foster kid, and he is determined to convince Batman to let him be a vigilante. An unexpected visit from estranged son Damian and his surprise guest gives him the chance to change his mind.

Loli-Kolinaki T

Danny doesn't remember much before he was adopted. But he remembers the Drop. God, he's beginning to remember the drop. Or, where Danny knew Desiree far, far better than before.

Bludhaven's Ghost T

After he fails to save his family and friends in the nasty burger explosion, Danny Fenton runs from Amity to prevent his inevitable future. He finds himself in Bludhaven.

Grave Promises T 53,882

Danny Fenton had nowhere to go and no one he could turn to without putting them in danger. Except, perhaps, the hero who'd cared for, respected, and trained Danny for all too short a time. Dick Grayson had never told anyone he'd once been trapped in the Ghost Zone. He'd also never forgotten the promise he'd made sure to get from Danny Phantom. Jason didn’t know what was going on but he was really very pissed that there was another kid with a y-shaped scar on their chest and eyes that feel like frozen reflections of home. Thankfully, there were suddenly several new targets for his rage and Dick seemed rather more inclined to join Jason than stop him.

There’s Blood In The Water T

Danny, injured from a reveal gone horribly wrong, leaves Amity Park. Nightwing finds a kid bleeding out in an alley.

Myosotis T SERIES

In which the one-and-only Danny Phantom gets amnesia, a new city to protect, some other vigilante friends, and a slightly-overprotective father figure. Nightwing gets premature gray hairs

What Makes A Home (And Other Thoughts From Fever Dreams) T

Dick finds a strange scene on patrol one night; the small form of dying girl huddled in a corner and covered in Lazuras Pit green. He and his family work together to try and save her, but her consciousness dwindles to less and less each day and the time spent awake only provides more questions. Will they work out the mystery surrounding their new guest or will she be forced to say goodbye forever in a unfamiliar bed, surrounded by strangers?

& DAMIAN

Robin's Egg T

While out on nightly patrol, Robin finds a very injured Danny Phantom who is about to be forced back into his core. Now that the ghost boy is entirely defenseless, how is Damien going to protect the core from others? And even harder... how is going to keep Phantom's existence unknown to his family?

When The Ghost King Moves To Gotham City T

Danny is taking a break from being Ghost King 24/7 so he moves to Gotham to help some ghosts and go sightseeing. However, he is now helping a little Bird spread their wings.

Wait A Second T 18,844 SERIES

Danny gets mistaken for Damian at the mall, shenanigans ensue. Meanwhile Damian gets mistaken for Danny at the mall, chaos ensues.

I'd Punch People For You Any Day Of The Week, As Long As You Keep Bringing Those Cookies And Little Baggies Of Fruit Leather And Roll-Ups, Because I Have No Will-Power When It Comes Sugar T SERIES

Danny punches some kid for Damian. Damian approves of this new development. Bruce is tired and worried AND suspicious. Not a great combination. Dan just wants people to stop picking on his younger brother/younger self/past self/it's complicated.

How To Acquire A Ghost T 1,916

Damian jokes he has a new pet. Danny might have a new home.

Danny Kidnaps Damian (Not Actually) T

Danny doesn't like being summoned, especially by the league of assassins. Those guys suck. If you're going to summon an all powerful entity at least do it right. A sandwich or something would be nice. He still wouldn't do their bidding anyway but it's the thought that counts. The one time he mentioned this to the league they offered him a child. Well. If they're offering Danny's gonna get the kid out of there. I mean really. Who in their right mind would offer him a child without laying out parameters. It was insulting really.

FENTONS MEET THE WAYNES

Vacation Crashers T 91,237 SERIES

Batman crashes in the wilderness following up a lead in a recent case. Meanwhile the Fenton family was having a camping trip to celebrate Jazz's last year as a "kid", but considering who suggested the location, it spelt disaster. Now Danny and Jazz have to survive an onslaught of ghosts, take care of an injured Batman, and while worrying about their parents.

Family Bonding And Other Perilous Pursuits G

It started with Casper High failing to fail, resulting in winning the Thomas & Martha Wayne contest despite their best efforts not to, causing them to spend the summer as interns in Gotham. According to Danny, the miserable expirence ended after he spent the whole summer getting kidnapped because the average Gothomite was blind and couldn't tell apart a sixteen from a thirteen year old which went to it's logical extreme of him putting the Joker on life support after the clown stabbed Damian Wayne and his whole class nearly getting adopted by the Red Hood after they somehow took out the Russian mafia. According to the birth certificate Bruce found, this was still very much the beginning and why oh why did he always get surprise relationships?! And no he was not panicking, shut up dear children. The only one not freaking out is Damian who is eager to finally have a blood family member(s?) he doesn't have to worry about trying to kill him or usurp his place as the blood son.

Going Rogue! G

The Fentons visit Gotham for a spot of summer research. It goes about as well as you'd expect...

The City Never Makes Us Beg G 2,661

The Nightingales appear in the Bowery one day in the summer. There had been no moving truck, no arduous trips carrying boxes and furniture up the five flights of stairs to their apartment, no picking up keys from the super. There hadn’t been any paperwork done either, for that matter. They had simply appeared, fully settled into an apartment that had been empty for three years. The Nightingales moved to the Bowery one day in the summer. Hauling up furniture and boxes the five stories of steps to their apartment. The one they'd been lucky to get thanks to a mistake that hadn't been caught until it was too late. A broken family, trying to put the pieces back together after hardship, keep their heads down, get through the days. Same as anyone else this side of the city. There was no reason to pay much attention, save perhaps Jason's interest in tall women with red hair that looked like they could throw him across the street. The Nightingales were a normal family. Gotham made sure of it.

#dpxdc #danny phantom #batman #long post #fic rec

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