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animeshotsh · 1 day ago

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You what? | Viktor x Jayce x Kid!Reader | Arcane ¤

Summary: Viktor knows Jayce sometimes does things without thinking, but this? This goes beyond his own limits.

Warnings: Mentions of trauma - Kid!Reader - Viktor and Jayce are a couple - OFF CANON EVENTS - Human traffic - GN Reader - PLATONIC - grammar mistakes -

When Viktor enters on monday morning into the lab with his coffee in hand he expects nothing but silence, after all he is here before Jayce most mornings.

But he stops in his tracks when he hears Jayce's voice, maybe sounding less...well less like him. He sounds like he is talking to a small animal. It reminds him on how he uses to talk to Rio when he was a kid.

Pushing memories aside Viktor retakes his way and goes deeper into the lab, where their experiments are.

And oh, if his illness did not kill him as most doctors had said then this would do it.

Jayce, using one of his experiments showing it to a kid who seems to be as suprised as any kid would be and perphas gives the most honest reactions to his inventions.

But wait, go back.

Jayce and a kid.

His cane hits the floor in suprise and he ends being watched by two pairs of eyes.

Jayce looks like he was discovered breaking some important rule, to which Viktor is centrain that bringing a kid into the lab counts as but he wont say it. And another pair that looks at him with curiosity.

There is silence, no one really knows what to say or how to act. But Jayce ends reacting, leaving the experiment and going to help Viktor with his cane who is feeling a headache coming.

"Hey Vik! long time no see, how's your house?"

Honestly? Viktor wants nothing more than to go back in time and insist that he is fine and does not need rest. Maybe like that he would have stayed with Jayce and prevent...this.

But time travel is something that is still on the making, so back to the main point.

Viktor just gives out the most tired look, then turns to a near chair, sits and taking his coffee simple says "Explain"

Becuase if there is something he has come to learn while dating and loving Jayce is that nothing should suprise him (and yet Jayce still manages to do it) and also, is better to ask upfront than to wait for him to talk up. Viktor can still remember that one time he found a big (illegal no less) plant at his home and Jayce ignored it for two hours till he asked.

"Well you see, its really funny actually..."

"Jayce...."

"Alright..., so I took a walk around campus and saw some...suspicious individuals and well lets say I was not very discrete"

Viktor can just imagine the scene

"And they saw me and ran but I chased after them"

Stupid move Viktor thinks

"And then they trow me this kid at me, i mean what could I have done? So i took them home, gave them a warm meal and a bath" Jayce ends sounding a bit too proud of himself.

"Jayce you...you stole a kid?" Viktor asks because he is confused "And did not report the incident?"

"Uh well i was going too but then (Y/N) started to wonder around so i kind of forgot..."

"(Y/N?" Viktor asks and sees you peeking out from behind the big desk.

"Yes! Thats their name, im not sure about much more, only that they like chocolate and blue stuff"

Viktor ends in silence for various minutes. You must be an orphan he concludes, an orphan from the undercity, who had no other choice but to follow a gang in order to survive. He tries to calculate your age but its hard, you have been not eating well, thats clear, and he can already see some bruises from the misstreatment of the undercity.

Being raised by parents or family its a luxury after all.

"Jayce you cant just take a kid in" Viktor says and his heart almost breaks as he sees you run towards Jayce hugging his legs.

Noted, you may not talk but you understand, its clear you are more intelligent than what you leave to be at first.

Street smart maybe?

"But Viktor! I cant just leave them" Jayce responds picking you up. "If they return to the undercity i dont think they will make it"

Jayce sees how you push your head against his chest and smiles softly at you.

"And we cant leaven them at an orphan home! I have read of these places, they suck"

Viktor must agree, its not like he comes from one but knows well that lots of kids ends being sold off...

"Alright and whats your plan?" Viktor asks "Do you even know what it means to raise a kid, or how? What about me? Were you going to consulte me?"

He can see the pain in Jayce eyes at his last sentence. "Of course I was! I was just thinking of a...well a good moment"

"Because bringing them to the lab was the perfect idea"

"I could not leave them at home! I mean i tried but- they would not let go of my leg, i think they have some type of trauma..."

Viktor takes another deep breath, Jayce kidness and heart knows no limits.

"Besides you did say you wanted to help the peopel from the undercity"

"This is different, we are talking about raising! adopting a kid!"

"So you are considering?" Jayce asks in the most hopeful tone ever.

Viktor just lets out another breath.

"Well, its not like they can go back and yes, orphan homes sucks" Viktor responds. "But we need to do this right. And i mean legally"

Jayce nods and all of him lights up like he has discover a new thing. He goes to Viktor carefully managing (Y/N) by his hands and leans down to peak Viktor's lips.

"Yes!! Totally! I will talk to Mel about it, im sure she can move some contacts for this" Jayce says and Viktor can see his brain making more and more plans.

"They also need clothes, and we should think of getting them into school" Viktor adds standing up with his cane and going closer. He can see (Y/N) eyes and cant denied how it makes his heart melts.

"Dad?" Its what you say looking at Viktor, then you look at Jayce "Mom?"

Jayce smiles and nods while Viktor is left without words. "Yes! We are your mom and dad now" he says pointing at him then at Viktor.

"Family?"

Jayce nods again

"...Chocolate?" You asks once more

"Alright thats all, if they eat too much sugar this place will be a disaster, you do remember we have dangerous things in here, right?"

Jayce nods at Viktor then whispers to you "We will get chocolate once we end work"

Viktor snorts then moves to his desk to finally start working and also to let his mind register everything. He hears the doors closing imagining Jayce went with you to talk to Mel.

But no, he feels a pull at his trousers and looks down at you who looks up at him extending your arms

"Dad! Up!"

Viktor does as told pulling you on his lap and passing you some papper and a pen. Both fall in a comfortable silence.

And Viktor thinks, this is something he can totally get used to.

#arcane x reader #jayce tails x reader #viktor x reader #viktor x jayce #jayce x reader

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homopopsie · 2 days ago

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[Sif has been looking at you weird for a while...] "Isa." [CRAB!!!] "Uhh, Yeah Sif?" [He's looking straight at you, his eyes piercing you to your bones. He looks kinda creepy like this... Reminds you of all the times you found him reading late at night with his flashlight eye.] "You mind if we talk for a second? Alone." "UMM. YEAH SURE SIF." [CRAB CRAB CRAB CRAB CRABBBBBB] "Are you alright, Isa? I've noticed you doing some... things. You're acting more- There's really no other way to say it, Isa you've been acting dumb. Acting like you're just 'really lucky' whenever you find a key that we need. I know you, Isa. I know you aren't stupid. You're really smart actually, and I know something is up. So what is it? Can I help?" [CRAB CRAB CRAB WHY IS HE ASKING THIS NOW????] "What do you mean? I really have just been getting lucky?! I don't know how I would know where the keys are, I've never been here?!?" [You feel awful lying to them.] "Right. So you finding the switch to the Death Corridor trap instantly isn't something strange? You always trust me to handle traps, and yet you immediately put your hand out in front of me and stopped me before I could look around, and then hit the hidden switch. I know I only have one eye, but that was really well hidden." "But how would I know where it was beforehand? I just had a feeling."

"I don't know Isa, but I know that people with 'a feeling' still jump at massive falling rocks! And I know that people with 'a feeling' don't just nonchalantly strut into The King's chambers and talk before Odile gets a chance to talk to the man who froze her entire home. I know people with 'a feeling' don't grit their teeth hard enough to shatter. Don't act like nobody noticed that either, maybe the others didn't but I did." [!!!] "But, that'd be impossible, right? It's impossible to have been here before-" "Is it? Because you sure seemed to have a few theories! You knew to ask me about Wish Craft, to ask me to read those books! You knew that I could wish properly, you didn't have an inch of doubt on your face when you said how I taught you. You knew that a wish could have given The King the ability to harness Time Craft. Don't think I believed you when you said you didn't wish for anything. I know you're indecisive, but you aren't going to just ignore something I told you either. I know you wouldn't just listen to me tell you how to wish and not bother with it. You aren't callous. [If only he knew... If only he knew how callous you were!]

"I..." "Isa, I know you're not stupid. And you know I'm not stupid either. If I see something, the only thing I can do is observe for more. And all signs right now point to you. Did something happen? Is that... Is that why you're looping in time? Did-"

"Oh Siffrin... Why? Why did you have to figure it out now? Why couldn't you have figured it out before? Why couldn't you have never figured it out?" "Isa, I-" "Can't you see? It's too late now. Nobody can help, now. It's already too late. Because I was too much of a coward to try and ask for help. Because I was too much of a coward to tell anyone about the loops! Because I was too much of a coward to say anything! Because I was too much of a coward to tell you how I feel! Especially you, Sif. I'm too much of a coward to tell you how I feel about you. And I'll never get that chance. Because it's already too late. "..." [He's just staring at you with a scared expression. Or at least its probably scared. Whatever. It's too late anyway. You coward.]

"...So what is it? Can I help?" "Nope! Was that all?"

[Sif seems... sad, at your response.]

"Alright. I'll miss you Isa. Come visit me sometime on your travels, okay? It'd be a shame if I couldn't look at the stars another time with you."

Roleswap Sus event combos Everybody gets a turn being the suspect and the suspectee! Nobody enjoys the experience, though.

#isat role!swap au #researcher sif and traveler isa have very 'doomed yaori' vibes #i love them both so very much #they are so very vibes #sorry if any of this doesnt correlate well with the au i just needed to do it cuz they're both so ooouggghhh #/pos #popsie writes

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clitorphosis · 1 day ago

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SPIT TO SEE THE SHINE

Vendetta Leon S. Kennedy x reader |18+ MDNI. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, KIDNAPPING, DUB CON, smut, age gap (reader is in 20s, Leon is 37) female reader, abusive relationship, implied alcoholism, stockholm syndrome, creampie, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, use of ‘daddy’ (not a lot), implied erectile disfunction lmao, victim blaming, fingering, implied physical and sexual violence, forced breeding.

Summary: life gets lonelier after 30s, the realization hits harder Leon and the way to cope with it is to get his hands on alcohol… too bad booze tends to encourage him to not be a good man - ending up with a younger girl in his apartment. Maybe it is a grave mistake, but Leon is just a man and who doesn’t make them? notes: uhm, this may be a lil bit self indulgent, sorry for that :3 I DONT CONDONE THIS BEHAVIOR IN REAL LIFE!!! reblogs, asks and any kind of feedback or interaction are really appreciated! :3

tags: @withonly-sweetheart

Mama has told you not to trust strangers, the concern was referred to the men, but your ears have never held her words for a time longer than a day. Nor did you remember her words when an attractive, older man noticed you and was nice enough to ask you out. That night was supposed to be a little date, giddy and happy jumping into the front seat of his car. That’s the last thing you remember. Eventually, you can not fathom how this happened - the day later your head hurt as you were forced to swallow the hard pill: you got kidnapped by your date.

The first month was insufferable and painful, slowly growing out of your ‘rebellious attitude’ and memorizing his body language like a child in an abusive household. His gaze is everywhere, keeping you locked up in the room when he is not present, a reminder to you that there is no free choice. The food, clothes, and your free time were defined by Leon’s mood and taste which… Liked to swing, creating a mess for you both, not knowing if he was genuinely ashamed of what he had done. You hated him, dreaming about the day when his throat would be sliced, painting your hands with red just to breathe in the air of freedom.

Mama knows best. No, Leon knows best.

Sometimes Leon is mean, without hesitation, sharp words can be thrown at you when he is drunk. Blaming his misery on you. Trying not to be affected by them, not enough to avoid some of them as they cling to your mind - circling as a reminder.

“You deserve this, what did you think a man would want from a woman?”,

“you are better dead”,

“you asked for this”. Did you actually?

Sometimes he is the nicest guy around here. Showering you with tenderness and care, trying to have a normal conversation, but not daring to look into your eyes. Ashamed probably, which was bittersweet and pleasant, but confusing too. Like a couple. You promised yourself to not change the way you feel about him, even if he is sweet. Not like you have a lot of options now.

Certainly, Stockholm syndrome wasn’t going to avoid you, it didn’t take long either. You aren’t special and Leon looked so lonely, returning after work mostly devastated. The expression someone would have had while grieving over something not obtainable. Not even daring to look into your face, ignoring you until his hands do not reach the booze - drinking himself until his mood changes to a handsy one. Physical or sexual. Sometimes both. And Leon is lonely, he told it himself once. Naturally or not, anger has changed to pity, while hate is mixed with something affectionate towards him. You can’t help yourself.

As someone has said - from love to hatred is one step.

So the routine has become clear after a month of staying here, sitting on the floor and watching TV while Leon is behind you. Big brother is watching you - no, Leon is watching you. Drunk or not, monitoring whatever is on the screen is appropriate in his eyes. Not for too long you were concentrating on the blue gleam coming from the screen, illuminating both frames in the living room, now like a natural thing for you both - his fingers end up in your panties to rub your clit in slow and lazy circles. His chest is pressing against your back, focused on your expressions and squirming. His calloused fingertips press harder against your sensitive clit, to hear your voice. Your body is the biggest enemy here - like a Pavlovian dog, reacting to his touch quickly and eagerly. The skin of his fingers is wet and soaked with your slick already, in no time, filling the room with squelching and wet sounds as your moans become harder to keep to yourself. Writhing and trying to shift away, but your body tends to become immobile most of the time - there is no fight or flight, just freeze.

“You look so miserable. It is reassuring, so cute too” In misery, together. His tone is the one someone would use for a dog. Always using that one with you, but you are not a dog. Not like you have any other choices right now, other than taking like a good girl and not lamenting.

If someone would have asked you, Leon is shameless with you, not the one to be shy after a bottle of whiskey, even if he can’t get it up sometimes. His fingers nudge your soaked hole, which aches for his attention. It clenches around nothing, pathetically and you disappointedly whine at the emptiness inside you.

“Come on, open your legs, be a nice girl for Daddy” Leon cooed. His lips brush over your ear, not giving you a chance to do this by yourself - forcing your legs roughly to part wider. “So much better now”

Your hips shift, arching your back as his two fingers intrude into your pussy, curling sweetly inside it to push them at your favorite sweet spot - to enforce more moans at every jolt of pleasure hitting your body. Leon likes that, watching you squirm and open your mouth like a fish desperate for air cause of him. His grip on your jaw is tight, painful even - there are going to be bruises tomorrow and he will be apologizing like a madman.

“Daddy has been so miserable these days too, fucking Redfield is always hassling me.” You don’t know who is that. The sound of his hand fumbling with his belt and the fly of his jeans reach your ears, a loud noise of them falling on the floor. “Can’t even have a vacation, what would you do without me, baby?”

“Ughh…!” you choke on your moans. There is no thought behind your eyes, your entire attention is on your pleasure. Feeling overwhelmed at every thrust of his fingers, writhing in his hold while he is roughly pumping into your drenched hole, an uncomfortable wetness clings to your inner thighs - begging to fuck you already.

“Fuck, I am so sorry, sweetheart, but you are so wet. I can’t. Just the tip, okay? Sorry,” he groans breathlessly, giving hot and quick kisses on the side of your head. Sweet touch. His gaze darkens and his body presses harder against yours, feeling his erection press against your ass. “just… this hole is dripping, and you don’t look like you don’t want it”

You are so close actually, every thrust hitting your sweet spot, curling, and keeping the quick pace of his fingers make you almost drool while focusing on approaching orgasm. Too bad that isn’t on his to-do list. As much as he wants to see you cum, on his fingers or not, - his own pleasure is much more important, especially when his dick is hard. Whiskey dick isn’t so easy to get up these days. His fingers roughly withdraw from your soaked hole with a squelching pop, denying your orgasm. The emptiness returns and your sensitive pussy clenched around nothing again - aching to be filled again.

“So messy,” Leon mutters out, shoving his index and middle fingers in your mouth - forcing you to clean them, your tongue rolls and wraps around them, tasting yourself before he finally pulls them away. “asking for bad things to happen”

You can swear to God this made your clit throb. Wetter than you can ever be, or you are hallucinating, hoping this isn’t the case. Thoughts are quickly brushed aside when his cock is pressed in between your pussy lips, bumping against your aching clit while he rubs himself against your soaked and needy cunt that coats his flesh in your slick, lubing his length in it before he pushed his cock into you - Leon is not really a patient man. Yeah, just the tip, of course. Your velvety walls easily swallow his cock, stretching inch by inch with pleasant pain and letting it slide as he pushed in quick motion until his cock got buried deep inside you. Balls pressed against your flesh, while you can’t help but tightly clench around him, his chest is pressed against your back. Relishing how tight and warm is your pussy, the best and most calming feeling for Leon - to fill you with his cock for his own pleasure. Your hair gets tugged roughly, making your head roll back while Leon starts moving slowly. His cock drags against your walls, pulling out until only a tip remains inside.

“See? Only a tip” Leon mocks you, before slamming back in, bottoming out in one thrust. You whimper and squirm, but his hold on your hair is hard - the only way to keep you under his control. His hips start pounding into you, falling deep into the pleasure connecting your bodies. “Your pussy just feels so good, weren’t you made for this, mmm?”

His movements stutter as his pace slowens when his blue eyes make eye contact with the TV. You didn’t really catch on what was happening until his hand tugged your hair, directing your half-lidded gaze to the point of his interest. The sight of your image on the news, big words on the red background: MISSING PERSON. The former shelf of yourself is staring at you both, smiling brightly - not knowing there is no future for you. The volume is turned off. In this household, it is common knowledge that Leon doesn’t let you watch the news, every time getting agitated and avoiding you even more, when sober, which doesn’t last long after that. The mood swing was quick, every time it was like a loud thunderstorm, his hips make another thrust - cock hits your cervix and forces out a loud moan, involuntarily, when Leon’s cockhead grinds against it.

“This is bullshit, you know?” He hisses into your ear, giving another rough thrust to make you gasp pathetically, as he presses your head against the TV screen. “no one is coming for you. Why? Cause you are forgettable, baby, no one needs you”

“S-stop, Leon” you mumble in between moans and trying to keep yourself aware of what is happening. “T-too much, p-please!”

Your body feels like it is on fire due to the mix of emotions he provokes, your cunt grips his cock tightly while aching for your denied orgasm from before. His hand gives a hard slap on your sensitive clit, making you arch and flinch. Your pussy flutters, gripping him tighter.

“Shhh, I am doing a favor here” he mutters, yanking your head back, forcing you to look at the news while his pounding grew more erratic, intensifying wet and flesh-hitting sounds. His voice is loud in your ears, muffling other sounds, overwhelming as his cock keeps making rough thrusts into you with every word - to punctuate them. “Keeping you here, taking care of useless you that can’t do anything right”

He buries himself deep again, pausing again to relish in the feeling of his cock filling you, while your wet walls engulf him nicely - like a drug, inviting him to stay there and never pull away. Slick drips down your thighs, and his nose brushes behind your ear before nibbling on the soft cartilage. His hand gives another light slap on your pussy, the tightness of your walls almost makes him cum.

“Maybe a baby, what do you think about it, mm?” The idea makes him throb, sliding in and out more erratically. As if he cares about your opinion right now, his fingers tug your hair harder, but his words make you flinch harder. Tears prick behind your eyelids.

“No-no-no. You can’t cum inside, no!” He is not wearing a condom. Bad, too bad. Begging comes out naturally for you now, in between your moans. Fear coats your voice, as the idea sets in quickly - being trapped here cause of an unfortunate kid. “Not the baby! Leon, please! I’ll be good, please!”

“Of course, I can. Shut up. You like this” Leon hisses, keeping your head in a firm hold, so your eyes are set on the old photo. It doesn’t feel right, but you can’t stop yourself from making noises, shifting so Leon would hit a better angle. This somewhat combines with a shame, at every hint of it your mind shoves it away. “You can’t look at yourself, too bad. Dripping even more after my words, like a whore.“

Wanting to cum, focusing more on the pleasure of his dick filling your hole - feels so wrong, but good. Like your body shouldn’t enjoy how Leon’s hips keep pounding into your soaked cunt, hitting the pudgy spot and making you repeat his name like a prayer, but your own mind and body are the biggest enemy, betraying you. His own balls tighten, as a reminder of his so soon approaching orgasm.

“You love me right, baby?” Leon whispers, voice coming out breathy and brushing against your ear shell. His calloused fingers crawl back to your clit, flicking and rubbing it roughly and unsteadily. Trying to keep the feeling of that warm tightness sucking in his cock.

“I love you, Leon, o-oh!” you hum, nibbling on the lower lip and arching, letting more noises when his dick hits your sweet spot so sloppily and messy now, chasing his orgasm. And him circling your clit with his calloused fingertips makes your legs tremble - so close to tripping and falling flat on the floor. This makes your mind fuzzy, shoving away the fear of being pregnant. Leon is nice, right? Nice enough to push you against the cold screen of the TV, it doesn’t have its use anymore. That photo faded with the news, after all. “I love you, love you,”

Your voice comes out shaky and high-pitched now. His eyes are set on your disheveled look, with light traces of tears as you repeat the confession erratically, filling his mind with them. Making this normal, you love him, so he can allow himself to not feel so guilty, right? With a final and rough thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, giving chaste and soft kisses to the back of your head. Your body shudders eventually too, your walls spasm harder around him as the hard feeling of orgasm hits you, pleasant shockwaves dumb every bad thought in the head. His cock throbbed, letting a loud groan and finally spurting ropes of cum into you while keeping messy circles on your sensitive clit, prolonging your orgasm and making you more overwhelmed with every flick. The warm essence fills your hole, Leon pulls out his softening cock with a wet pop, watching how his sperm slowly oozes out from your pussy. His mind is light, the hint of booze keeps guilt from emerging.

Words of love don’t feel like a complete lie now, as pleasant memories overwhelm the bad ones. They become almost an empty spot in the back of your mind, leaving only a foggy feeling of hate and dread. And your brain is weak for the bliss, hammering every moment deep in you - craving for more. Hate won’t bring you out of this, maybe affection will. Your hand grips weakly his wrist, you won’t be able to bear the loneliness after sex tonight.

“Don’t leave me” Your mouth is quicker than your mind, not processing anything right now. Leon breaks out in a weak smile, but his gaze isn’t capable of keeping eye contact right now. Still, he scoops you in his arms without a second thought. Remaining silent, feeling your weak body in his hold he can’t help but pepper chaste kisses on your forehead. Trying to prolong the sweet and guiltless moment for you both.

You should have known better than to accept that date with him.

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #vendetta leon #resident evil smut #leon kennedy fanfic #resident evil #leon x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #re fanfic #resident evil fanfiction

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eldritch-spouse · 2 days ago

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How would sleeping with the TCE members go? Like who’s down for tangled under the blankets cuddles or what horrible mishaps are gonna happen if I want a sleep over? I imagine sleeping with Gallon would be like waking up half embedded in slime or with him practically melted into the bed. Krulu would either be like being bundled up in his arms the whole night or he sleeps like a vampire with his arms folded laying face up lol. I don’t think Frank-E sleeps really so maybe he just plays like “3 hour white noise” sounds while he watches you sleep. You’ve mentioned a few times that Patches would get handsy but somehow I feel like he’s clingy as hell in his sleep much to his embarrassment (if the undead even sleep?)

Most of them don't sleep as much as humans do.

Gallon doesn't like to sleep in actual beds. He had one, in the little apartment he calls his own, but it's for the comfort of any guests, usually. Slimes have different beds, which are usually just modified tubs really. Meant to be able to safely contain them and also be mixed with water. He would try to lull you sleeping with him this way. You won't get wet, he'll encase you and leave open room for your face, all you'll feel is the slight sway of warm water.

Morell has a fucking obnoxious hold of you. While you're lucky he doesn't just turn and crush you, his arms are always either clutching you to him or holding onto something of yours. It's hard to break that hold, harder still when his only response to movement is to tighten that grasp. He sleeps with an amount of tension in his body that feels unnatural.

While Grimbly will spend some time napping with you in bed, worming himself into the little spoon and feeling you cover his body with yours, he's guaranteed to eventually weasel out and take it to the ceiling, or the rail he's gotten placed over the bed. So you might wake up panicked because he's not beside you, making enough noise to alert the bat, and screaming when two magenta orbs peek at you from above.

Santi might grab onto places he's not supposed to, but he's not a sleep-humper, funnily enough. You just might wake up with him breathing softly, clearly asleep, but his right hand has curled under you to stick you to him by the genitals. Sometimes his teeth can feather over your skin, but not often, as the horns force him to sleep with his head facing up. He likes to fall asleep with your weight on top of him. Does his cock stir? Maybe, but it's also just purely comfortable.

Patches will take the time to fondle you briefly, if you haven't let him touch you yet. But so would many others in this list. He needs extremely little rest, so most of the time he's not even sleeping beside you. Probably either trying to keep Stitches at bay or just watching you. He might set his head down nearby to make it easier to cuddle. A lot of his time is spent feathering over your warm skin and skating his fingers through your curves. Drawn to the warmth of life, you could wake up with him glued to you, occasionally.

Vinnel tends to starfish. He too would prefer to sleep in a slime bed, but he can't, so he usually just finds very bizarre sleeping positions that hit the spot that particular night. Sometimes he'll slap you with his limbs, other times he just rolls around the bed and you wake up with him upside down clinging to your legs. Don't nudge him too much, he'll probably react with his own slumbering shoves. Although sometimes unpleasant to sleep with, his tail does often find itself around your own limbs.

Nebul isn't much of a "rest in the same bed" type. In fact, he usually only rests in an armchair. But to humor a good pet's request, he might. He can stand very still and be very quiet, so that's good at least. You're held firmly but not oppressively like Morell. He prefers to have you rest your head on his chest. Like Patches, the wraith isn't actually sleeping for 90% of the time.

Belo will insist to stand watch over you, but can be made to relent. He prefers to sit up on the bed and have you in his grasp, shielded by a protective cocoon made of his wings. Although he can eventually doze off, one of his eyes periodically opens to take unconscious stock of his surroundings. You're the one that's likely to grope here, as angels are very soft and cozy, Belo guiltily enjoys the way you squeeze and pet him in certain stages of your sleep cycle.

Sybastian would frankly prefer to have you sleep in his mouth. He promises he won't bite you to pieces or swallow you, otherwise the mimiclings wouldn't trust him either. But he can also just be the bed, which is a favored alternative. While Syb doesn't shift much, he does often form his hands and use them to trap you to the bed in a gangly but familiar hold. This becomes a problem when you want to leave in the morning.

Fank-e is a terrible alternative to cuddle against, which is why he'll wrap you in a blanket burrito before any sort of contact. He's learned he leaves harsh imprints on human skin. While he can and will play any sound you like, he'll take the opportunity to also recharge at some point. His grip is calibrated to not be broken by human force, but to instead jolt him "awake" if it senses too much pressure.

Krulu is weirdly fascinating in the sense that he doesn't just lay down to sleep. He can sleep standing, or crouched to the ground. When he does demand your presence, the siadar will cover you in his six arms and usually hold you to his chest. Sometimes his neck. It sounds like it might feel uncomfortable, but as soon as sleep takes him, it'll take you too. He doesn't sleep all that often, so most of the time, this doesn't really happen at all, and he decides when you need to sleep instead.

#Vinnel oc #Morell oc #Gallon oc #Grimbly oc #Santi oc #Patches oc #Belo oc #Sybastian oc #Fank-e oc #Krulu oc

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sahisan · 8 hours ago

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smth about chuuya coming in his pants after being sex deprived for weeks/months is just.... ugh. nsfw obv. fem reader probs? pm member reader. kinda pathetic chuu but we love him for that. touch deprived chuu?

chuuya is a busy man. it's public knowledge—he actually manages to run the port mafia's jewelry department just perfectly starting from the age of 16 and do splendidly on solo missions, along with carrying out orders from the boss and giving orders of his own.

both of you being busy means you don't really get to see each other often, especially if you both work in the mafia. overseas missions that sometimes take more than several months to complete, nights spent in the headquarters with headaches because of the constantly incoming paperwork etcetera etcetera.

it's a lot. and it's a lot more when chuuya actually needs you. he wants so much to feel something, be it your mouth or you clenching down on him or just your hand getting him off and fuck, does he imagine it being your hand when he jerks himself off once in a while when it gets really impossible.

so once the two of you finally have some time off that you can spend at home—usually he does have a day or two off after particularly hard or long missions, just to get over the jet lag and get all the necessary paperwork prepared—chuuya doesn't necessarily pounce on you immediately after closing the front door, no. he's tired and you're tired no matter the need going through him in these moments.

he gets you both some fancy take-out, soaks his aching muscles in the bath for some time, maybe even sets up a movie or something like that on the tv so that you two can snuggle up against each other on the sofa under some blankets, and it's really not long before you're on top of him and he looks at you with this already needy and basically pleading look which screams "i missed you so much i can't hold myself back anymore please just do anything" and "please do whatever you want with me" when you just got your hands on him, your core sitting right on top of the tightness in his pants.

and it's so fucking humiliating to chuuya too, because, god, he can handle himself perfectly well without sex and he knows it, but once you're near him after some weeks/months away he's already just so painfully hard without even thinking much.

it's even worse when he ends up coming in his pants from barely a few deep kisses and grinding against you. he tries to resist it, tries grabbing onto your forearm and squeezing the hell out of a handful of your ass with another hand, but it's just inevitable when he's been so deprived of you and starved for even smallest bits of touch—not even sex, touch. chuuya swears he sees white behind his closed eyelids as he comes, and he full on moans into your mouth once he feels that his underwear is all sticky, and his breathing refuses to get back to normal for a good few minutes along with his racing heart.

he ends up laughing breathlessly once the kiss is broken, throwing his head back with his chest still rising and falling rather quickly, mumbling something about feeling like a goddamn teenager that just hit puberty and could come in his pants just from some grinding.

he's also very sensitive after his first orgasm, but that's for you to find out only once you grind down on him one more time after a few moments, kind of experimentally, and hear chuuya whine and shudder with his breath hitching and his hand coming to just plant your hips down in one place and hold them there. he already embarrassed himself enough.

or did he?

#chuuya x reader #nakahara chuuya smut #chuuya smut #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs smut #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs smut #chuuya x you #nakahara chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #nakahara chuuya x you

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cozytief · 3 days ago

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Mingi "I'm not wearing underwear; just thought you should know"

Hello ^_^ Hard boi thoughts. Would have made this smut but aborted last minute. Idk if that's something y'all would want.

M/N gets hurt and it leads to sexual tension?

DM/Requests open.

~~~

In no way does this represent Mingi irl or his actual personality. This is fiction.

TW: Gay, Boner, Touching (non-sexually), Cooing, Fluff.

~~~

A loud thud filled the dorm air. It was quickly followed by a hissed-out string of cuss words. Seonghwa and San weren’t supposed to get back until way later due to a schedule they had together. Frowning, Mingi made his way out to the living room. His eyes quickly landed on M/N. The other curled up in pain on the ground. “M/N-ah?” He softly questioned. “Hyung,” The soft words made his heart flutter. It was clear the other was in pain. “What happened?” He questioned, dropping down next to the other. M/N gave a shaky breath before speaking. “Grabbing something from Seonghwa and fell,” He confessed. Mingi nodded his head at the words. “You ok?” He questioned, unsure of how to help the other. “Landed on my hip,” Mingi flinched at the words. M/N had gotten a hip injury when they were in Kingdom. It sometimes bothered him, but he always brushed it off as a joke.

Mingi ran his hand through the other’s hair at the words. “Should I call for help?” He asked. M/N shook his head as he slowly uncurled from the position he’d been in. “N-no, it’s ok,” Mingi carefully helped the other sit on the couch. Mingi wanted to chuckle at the thought of this happening in M/N’s dorm with Yunho and Yeosang. They didn’t have any furniture. M/N most likely would still be on the ground in pain. Mingi held back the soft giggle and rubbed the other’s thigh gently. “Should we take a look?” M/N shook his head, blushing red at the words. “It’s ok, Hyung,” M/N stated, resting his hands in his lap. Mingi frowned at the words. “M/N-ah, we should check. You really hurt yourself the last time this happened,” Mingi softly cooed, rubbing the other’s thigh gently. M/N bit his lip, refusing to meet Mingi’s gaze. “Hyung, it’s fine,” Mingi shook his head. “We’ll check, hm. If it’s bad I’ll take you, ok?” Mingi knew M/N hated being checked out. He probably didn’t want to go with the others or the managers. Mingi reached up to fiddle with the other’s waistband. M/N flushed a deeper red. He began to gently pull them down but was stopped by M/N.

“I’m not wearing underwear,” The confession making Mingi’s heart flutter. He hadn’t even thought about that. “Just thought you should know,” He stated quietly when Mingi didn’t reply. Mingi bit his lip lightly before speaking. “We still need to check, M/N-ah. Do you want a blanket?” M/N refused to meet Mingi’s gaze. M/N paused, unsure, before shaking his head slowly. “I’ll cover myself. You don’t have to pull my sweats all the way down, right?” Mingi nodded his head at the words. “Just enough to see,” He answered. M/N nodded his head, taking in the words. “Ok,” He quietly agreed.

Mingi carefully tugged the other’s sweats down. A frown making its way to his face. “You’re bruised already,” Mingi muttered. M/N frowned at the words. His hands moving from holding his sweats in place to peek at the nasty bruise forming. “Fuck,” He muttered, head snapping to look at Mingi. “You hit it pretty good. I don’t think you need treatment though,” He confessed. His eyes briefly met M/N’s before glancing down at the bruise again. He allowed one hand to lightly trail the bruise while his other hand softly played with the inside of M/N’s thigh. Mingi leaned down to place a delicate kiss to the other’s bruise. “Hyung,” The strained word causing Mingi’s head to land on M/N’s face. “M/N-ah?” He quizzed.

The other’s face was bright red, as if he was embarrassed. M/N refused to meet his gaze, hands covering his crotch once more. It suddenly clicked for Mingi. The other was hard and desperately trying to cover it. Mingi was suddenly aware of how intimate everything was. He carefully pulled away, biting his lip.

He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by the dorm door being swung open aggressively. It made them both flinch. “Mingi-ah! How does chicken sound for dinner?” Seonghwa’s voice rang through the dorm. M/N stood up quickly, putting space between the two of them. “Ah, staying for dinner, M/N-ah?” San asked. The said boy muttered something out and was quickly gone. Mingi frowned at the actions of the other. “He really hasn’t been in a chicken mood, huh,” San quizzed, rushing to grab something from the kitchen. Mingi agreed blindly as he moved to follow Seonghwa into the kitchen.

#mingi x male reader #smut #ateez scenarios #ateez oneshot #x male reader #atz x reader #x male y/n #mingi #song mingi #mingi x reader #mingi smut #mingi x m/n #x m/n #ateez x reader #atz x male reader #mingi scenarios #mingi oneshot

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coffeegnomee · 2 days ago

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ugh sometimes watching Kab pov I get real sympathetic for how difficult it must be to be in her brain and just be so confused all the time and exhausted about masking her feelings to make other people trust her and her pain in wanting to be vulnerable and receive vulnerability and feel deep reciprocal love.

But then she says shit, really fucking mean and toxic shit towards mental health and healing and it triggers my own fight or flight and i become a ball of rage.

And like, I do get it. When you start your journey of mental health healing you often become the toxic one as you throw the shit people have said to you at everyone who also has similar mental health issues as you. (been there done that) Doing it to process your own rage at being told these things, or thinking, out of desperation, that if you can just get them to fix themselves quickly, you can fix yourself quickly. The bullied becomes the bully.

But then time passes and you realize this shit is hard to overcome. (or maybe it won't ever be overcome! and that's okay!) And you stop being toxic and you start being compassionate, to yourself and others. And eventually you start to heal and become confident in your own self worth and the validity of your emotions.

But before then it's the fucking worst place to watch someone be in. And that place is unfortunately where we are right now.

below is a short transcript of the convo this reflection is based off of. it can be triggering so like, don't feel obliged to read it.

11/10/24 kab vod: "I have no idea what's happening"

1:42:00 KAB: “what about how he makes me feel? Why is it so important what he feels and to accommodate everything he’s feeling? Why do i have to conceded to that???”

1:44:00 “I’m sick of having to accommodate to everyone else’s actions”

realizing your masking is hurting you is one of the worst realizations (imo). bc the mask keeps you safe, but if you can't process or give worth to your real emotions, it's not serving you.

so she swaps from processing her own feeling to being angry at zam.

1:47:00 She gets he needs time and space, but “We don't have time for to try and sit and process your emotions properly. Do it after we deal with this fucking issue [...] sometimes you just need to toughen up”

Fucking hell the trigger i just felt for just toughen up.

1:48:00 “i need to know what he’s thinking so that we can work together. In a team!”

what team!?!

“‘Does zam really hate communication more than he likes spawn and the server’ literally. Like pick your priorities dude.”

I’m going to fucking throw up. Because yes. Actually yes. Unfortunately and actually yes. He's gotten a lot better but like.

1:53:00 “I dunno. I wish he would care about himself as much as i care about him. Hard to see him like this [pause] maybe he does need more nurturing than i can give him bro ugh. I am just not- i am not good at that shit. I think it’s stupid [..] when you have a job to do [..] just shove your emotions away for a bit. And then you can process them later”

I was going to say this is just eclipse, but I just realized that maybe it's just this is exactly the perception Zam had of Vi: that Vi just wanted him to move on when he couldn't. All his deepest fears of what Vi wanted from him are being personified into a new person.

(also he is shoving his emotions away and that's why he's not processing it and giving you an answer for why he "doesn't know"????? but since he's not a perfect ball of joy and masking to you and because he is doing what you can't (shove emotions away) you are in rage)

1:54:00 “But it’s like, while there’s a life or death situation that literally determines the entire server we don't have time to be like, holding your hand, you know? Like, you're an adult” ughh fuck. being broken is inconvenient for others and age is seen as an invalidation to any of your real brokenness. If you're old you no longer have the right to be broken. Can we please change this narrative? thx

“If he cared enough he would actively try and do something to help himself in this situation”

Interesting choice of words to say "he would try to help himself if he cared" complaining about others not "working" on themselves (and you can never know if someone is working on themselves bc you're not in their brain) helps nobody bc you can only control yourself.

“You just want to sit and feel bad about yourself” no that's what you're doing kab

“He got me to fucking open up to him and pour my heart out and is now turning his back on that entirely. That’s what i’m actually more upset about”

oh the naive belief that because you pour your heart out to someone they must reciprocate. That is the risk you take when you are honest with someone about your feelings. They are at no obligation to reciprocate ever. Never ever. But that doesn't mean your feelings aren't true and it doesn't mean you shouldn't have done it. Love is a risk.

But also she feels she was forced into it. Forced to be vulnerable and she hates the vulnerability. She doesn't remember (or believe) that Zam promised to not use it against her. She isn't willing to give him the chance to not use it against her. He simply knows and that is a threat.

So love turns into spite. Instantly. And she doesn't want to talk to him anymore. And decides that she will just be fake to him.

oh girl. keeping the mask on doesn't help anything.

“I’ve lost a lot of respect for him today. I’m done trying to impress him”

and so the mask returns. and healing stops.

#lifesteal spoilers #gnome rambles

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tiny-wooden-robot-fics · 3 days ago

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Magnolia - Chapter Eighteen

Rating: Explicit Media: Jujutsu Kaisen Pairing(s): Geto Suguru x Original Female Character, Geto Suguru x Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru x Gojo Satoru x Original Female Character Additional Tags: Vampire AU, Dark Themes, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Depression, Loneliness, Polyamory, Slow Burn, Smut

A/N: Tags will be added as chapters are updated. Please be mindful of the tags and warnings at the beginning of each chapter, as they will tell you what you need to know about the content within.

Minors, DNI.

Summary:

He laughs. “Sometimes. But he does it so well that it’s hard to be annoyed for long, because you end up looking so good.” He uncrosses his arms and steps into the room, closing the distance between them in just a few strides. She turns to face him, feeling suddenly shy now that there’s only a few inches of space between their bodies. “Do you want me to stay out of it?”

Suguru is so good at keeping his face neutral; she can’t tell what he’s thinking at all when he asks. “Stay out of it?”

“Mmhm.” His gaze flickers from her eyes, moves down her body, and then back up to meet her eyes again. “If you want to be alone with Satoru, that’s perfectly okay with me.”

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Read on AO3

Chapter Warnings: Oral (f. receiving), Squirting

Chapter Eighteen: Love's Acolyte

“Oh, that’s pretty.” Suguru looks at her from where he’s standing in the doorway of her room, arms crossed over his chest. “It suits you.”

She looks back at herself in the full-length mirror. What Satoru laid out for her is a set, made of lace and in almost the same shade as the dress she’s just changed out of. “Does it ever annoy you, this uncanny skill he has of finding things that look good on you?”

Suguru is so good at keeping his face neutral; she can’t tell what he’s thinking at all when he asks. “Stay out of it?”

“Mmhm.” His gaze flickers from her eyes, moves down her body, and then back up to meet her eyes again. “If you want to be alone with Satoru, that’s perfectly okay with me.”

She hasn’t actually thought about it, and once he poses the question, she realizes she doesn’t actually know. A hot bubble of apprehension inflates in her chest, and she looks down at her feet. “I’ve… never been with two men at once.”

He puts his hands on her shoulders, his palms warm against her skin, and leans down so he can look her in the eye. “You don’t have to be if you don’t want to - not in that way,” he reassures her. “If you don’t want me there, I’ll let you be alone with him. If you want me there, but you just want me to watch, I’ll do that, too.” He smiles down at her, and it’s just as kind as it always is. “And if you say you’d like me to join in, well… I’d love to do that too - but when and how will be totally up to you.”

Somehow, he always knows just what to say to alleviate her anxiety. “Your knack for finding the perfect words to ease my mind is as good as Satoru’s knack for finding clothing that looks good on me.”

“Hm,” he hums with a grin. “Does it annoy you as much, too?”

“I can’t say that it does.”

“Good.” She doesn’t think it’s her imagination that he sounds just a little bit smug.

Many have loved you with lips and fingers And lain with you till the moon went out; Many have brought you lover’s gifts; And some have left their dreams on your doorstep. But I who am youth among your lovers Come like an acolyte to worship, My thirsting blood restrained by reverence, My heart a wordless prayer. The candles of desire are lighted, I bow my head, afraid before you, A mendicant who craves your bounty Ashamed of what small gifts he brings. -Elsa Gidlow, Love’s Acolyte

“You look like a gift, wrapped up just for me,” Satoru tells her. She’s in his lap again, pressed up against him with his hands on her hips. “Suguru… how come you don’t wear this color more often, too?” “You know why,” Suguru murmurs. He joins them in bed and rolls over onto his side, his head resting in his hand as he watches them. “I look terrible in that shade of blue.” He reaches up and lets his fingertips dance gently down the path of Lia’s spine, making her shudder, arching her closer into Satoru.

And the way Satoru looks up at her makes her skin flush hot all over, because it’s not just lust. It’s not just some half-baked desire that’s sprung up out of nowhere… it’s a different flavor of the longing he looks at Suguru with. She leans forward because she wants to kiss him, again and again and again, and so she does.

Deeply enough to feel like she’s drowning in him, deeply enough to worry that she’ll go lightheaded if she doesn’t come up for air soon, deeply enough to make her start squirming into him because it feels like the only way to get the friction she so desperately wants.

“Easy, Princess,” Satoru laughs quietly, when she breaks the kiss to breathe. “I’m right here.”

“Stop teasing her, Satoru.”

“Me? Teasing her is the last thing on my mind.” Lia believes him, because she can feel how hard he is beneath her - the thin, soft fabric of his boxer briefs doing nothing to hide the evidence of his desire. She can’t tell anymore if the wet patch on the lace panties she’s wearing is from her or him.

She supposes it doesn’t really matter anyway.

She reaches between them, wanting to feel him. Wanting to wrap her fingers around him, to gauge his shape and size with her hand. “I want…” The words come out barely louder than a whisper, and they don’t even begin to encompass all of the thoughts that fall under the umbrella of that phrase: I want.

“Hm?” He nudges her chin up with his finger, so he can look into her eyes. How does anyone resist these eyes? She wonders. Maybe they don’t. “What is it that you want, Lia?”

“You.” The word spills out of her without any hesitation. There is no shame, no pride in how quickly she answers his question. Her hand finds purchase between them, fingers closing around the base of his shaft. Her stomach flutters at how full her fist feels when she tries to get her fingertips to meet the tip of her thumb, and she draws in a quiet little breath.

Satoru hears that sharp little inhale, sees the surprise on her face, and it makes him chuckle. He cups the back of her head, bringing her face close to his so he can nuzzle her cheek with his nose. “Why don’t you let me open you up a little first, yeah?” --

Lia still remembers with perfect clarity every single second of the way Suguru put his mouth on her.

She remembers the way he alternated between using his mouth and using his fingers, the way he kept his gaze on her when he sensed she was getting close to her orgasm, how closely he paid attention to the signs her body gave him and used those signs to dictate what he would do next.

It had indeed left her speechless, but this is something entirely different.

The mouth on Gojo Satoru - it makes her wonder, is his tongue fucking battery operated?

The way he’s slurping and sucking and licking, three fingers buried as deeply into her as they can go, massaging her walls - it has her shaking and sweating and biting her fist in order to muffle the sounds she’s making.

It isn’t Satoru that reaches up and pries her hand out of her mouth. “He wants to hear you, pretty girl,” Suguru coos, pressing a kiss to her palm. “How else is he supposed to know he’s doing a good job?”

Again and again and again, Satoru brings her to the edge over and over, only to pull her back when she’s close. Until she’s seeing stars, until she’s almost in tears, until she’s absolutely incapable of anything other than incoherent babbling.

Satoru thinks she’s so pretty, with those big tears clumped on her lashes and her swollen lips and sweat-slicked skin. She’s a goddamned work of art, and he’s about to make it better.

He brings her to the edge one last time, and then takes her over, and it’s so satisfying watching the way she gushes for him… but what’s even more satisfying is the look on her face, the look that lets him know that this is her first time ever being able to do that.

“What a mess,” Suguru teases her from his place next to her.

They don’t let her cover her face. Satoru is so, so warm. He finally puts her legs down and drapes himself over her, chest to chest, his soft, wet lips dragging along her collarbone. “Messy girl,” he smirks, exchanging an amused look with Suguru. He lifts his hand, the one that was just inside of her, to Suguru’s lips. “Isn’t she delicious?” Said between kisses, his mouth slotting over Lia’s so she can also taste herself on his tongue and his other hand snaking between their bodies to lightly caress her swollen labia.

“Just as delicious as I remember,” Suguru agrees.

“Did you know, Lia? Did you know you also speak a lot with your eyes?”

She glances over at Suguru, who’s still sucking on Satoru’s fingers. “I’ve been told that once or twice,” she admits.

“I bet you have.”

Lia marvels at it - how all the anxiety she felt just a little while ago is gone now. How these two have managed to take that nervous ball of energy that was in the pit of her stomach and turn it into something else entirely. Something that has her wanting so much more, something that brings out of her a greed that she’s never felt the likes of before.

She wonders if a little of that is showing on her face. It must be, if the way the two of them are looking at her is any indication.

“Are you tired, Lia?” Satoru asks.

“No.”

“Good,” he grins, shifting a little, just enough for her to feel how hard he is, pressed against her thigh. “Because I’m not quite done with you yet.”

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Tag list: @therealestpussyeater

#tinywoodenrobotfics #black oc #JJK #Jujutsu Kaisen #Jujutsu Kaisen fanfic #JJK fanfic #Satosugu #Jujutsu Kaisen fics #Geto Suguru x OC #Gojo Satoru x OC #Satosugu x OC #JJK x OC #JJK smut

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vigilskeep · 53 minutes ago

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give me the Sol good & bad endings in detail pretty pls 💖

sol as a character is defined by the crows and the blight, so here’s a spread of what i might have to work with

some bad sol endings:

crow version: the Widow Dellamorte. sol commits to being first talon lucanis’ right hand, but fail to protect him when the rest of the crows go to war with the ascending dominance of the dellamorte-de riva-cantori block. desperate to cling to whatever they have left of him, they allow themself to be possessed by spite—a fuller meld than spite/lucanis ever was, more in the anders/justice style—and become a vengeful winged monstrosity effectively haunting the dellamorte villa. black veil over golden heavy armour. for now, they still recognise their friends

blight version: the blight finally catches up. sol was intensely careful about fighting the blight right up until the final days, where there was nothing for it but to cut blindly into blight cysts. obviously it’s awful and pointless for them to suddenly die after all that, which is why i think we should at least explore the possibility. for awful and pointless drama. the ending they were kind of hoping for, just when they no longer want it??

alternate blight version: okay this isn’t an ending per se but i still think ghilan’nain should have gotten to turn them into a sick crow-themed blight monster at some point, as a special treat. this can also be a neutral or good ending depending on how much of themself they retain and how much of a monsterfucker lucanis is. sorry for saying that

some neutral-ish sol endings:

crow version: the First Talon’s Executioner. this is the version where sol goes back to the crows and it’s essentially business as usual. i can’t imagine this as good, but with their renewed appreciation for what they have and the lifetime of focus and activity ahead in order to just keep their heads above water, it could be survivable. and lucanis is there. but then i think about how permanently damning the step is where you start raising the next generation for it and i feel a bit sick

blight version: warden sol! sol finally gets up the nerve to cut ties with the crows, making the necessary choice for themself even if it means losing the people they love most. they take the joining and build what life they can alongside davrin, evka, and antoine, slaying darkspawn and finding a new path for the wardens following the tracks of a changing blight. it’s ugly and terrifying and hard, full of horror they never get used to, that will still be making their skin crawl until the day it kills them and drags them down, far from the comforts of home. but as a life, it is, at least, theirs to choose

some good sol endings:

crow version: a newly re-energised sol takes their place at lucanis’s side but considers things in ways they never could have before. why does going back to the crows have to mean they’re locked in place? they aren’t the underdog just clawing for survival that they once were, and they don’t have to act like it. they can do better! they have viago and teia and lucanis and people listen to them. if the dread wolf can change, can’t the crows? through a certain connection via the wardens, they make a contact who has very interesting ideas on the crows’ future

blight version: sol accepts they can’t stay with the crows, does a whole tear-stained confession to a shocked and distraught lucanis, and walks away. they settle into helping davrin, evka, and antoine against the changing blight. nobody actually requires them to take the joining because, hey, they’ve already gotten rid of more than enough archdemons for one person (showoff), and sometimes it is actually helpful for them to do their crow thing as the combatant the darkspawn can’t sense coming. maybe a year or two later, the world’s most miserable first talon (“they don’t even let me do my own assassinations anymore!”) quits his job, thoroughly disappoints his grandmother, thrills his demon, hands all his power to teia, and shows up somewhat nervously with as many antivan delicacies as he fears forgiveness will require

#veilguard spoilers #sol de riva #in the last one sol would have not even a thought that forgiveness is required here #it’s actually assan you have to placate lucanis. good fucking luck he’s up to your shoulder now

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kiyomitakada · 2 days ago

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Light stalks into the hotel room at 1 a.m. It's November 12th already.

They called his mom earlier. He'd almost forgotten, in the midst of it all. Light told her the truth — or as close to the truth as he could get, anyway. The raid. The gunshot wounds. The blood loss. His words came out odd and robotic, which was bad, because it was suspicious. He wasn't sure why he wasn't projecting emotion right.

Aizawa and Ide kept sneaking glances at him through the whole thing. They weren't subtle. Matsuda wasn't either, but at least there was only sympathy in his eyes. Misa held his hand through it all, tracing circles with her thumb. The touch was repulsive. He's pretty sure he'd dug his nails into her palm, considering how hard he'd gripped her hand back, but she hadn't complained a bit.

Sachiko cried. Misa cried, too, even though Dad had never been her father. It felt like an insult to Soichiro Yagami's memory that Light couldn't make the tears come out of his own eyes. He was usually so good at faking it. The dryness felt damning.

"I'll arrange the funeral," he said.

"I'll fly over right away," his mom answered quickly. "I'll get Sayu—"

"No!" He lurched out of his seat without meaning to, then fell back. "Don't tell Sayu."

Aizawa and Ide eyed each other again. He wanted to kill them all.

"We'll have to at some point," his mom said gently.

"I know," Light said. He swallowed. "But Mom, neither of you can come. It won't be safe here. You rented the countryside house for a reason, right? You both have to stay put for now. Mello is still active."

He hoped she would argue. She didn't. "Alright," she said softly. "But you tell me if you need anything, okay, Light?"

"Okay," Light said, and the rest of the conversation was logistics.

It's almost half past one in the morning now. The task force is asleep. Misa is, too, on one of the twin beds they pushed together. He thinks about writing down all the criminals he can in one night and murdering everyone in the building and jumping off the hotel balcony.

"Ryuk," he says instead, as he sits down on the edge of the other bed.

"Yeah?"

He tries to laugh. It comes out wrong, too, but not as badly as the earlier attempt at tears had. "It's funny, isn't it?"

"Wow, Light, I didn't think you were that cold," Ryuk remarks.

"It's just," Light says, "that he only lived one day after trading for the eyes. So even if he hadn't… I guess he wouldn't have stayed alive that long anyway."

Ryuk frowns. "Huh? I don't get it."

"The eyes take away half of your remaining lifespan, right? And Dad wasn't killed by the Death Note, so that really was his natural lifespan. Which means, since he died after one day, he was only going to live two days if he hadn't traded."

It should be a relief. It is a relief. It's not Light's fault. Soichiro Yagami was going to die anyway.

"Wrong," Ryuk says.

Light flinches backwards. It's been five years, but sometimes Ryuk's smile still scares him. "What do you mean, wrong?"

"Welllll… maybe wrong? I dunno, actually." Ryuk scratches his chin with one claw. "Yeah, maybe you're right. I haven't looked at the rules in forever."

"Ryuk, what are you talking about?"

"See, I'm not sure if that half is from how long you would've lived without the Death Note, or if it's from your new lifespan after you get the Death Note."

Light gapes at him. "It's obviously the second one!"

"That's the funny thing, Light-o," Ryuk says, and grins. "You can't know how long someone's gonna live if they have the Death Note. It's impossible. That's why you can't see the numbers over the heads of Death Note owners."

"But — Misa traded half her life away," Light says. "Twice. So it can't be her original lifespan, since that stalker was going to kill her."

Ryuk shrugs. "Who knows? Maybe she's been trading halves of zero this whole time."

"That's… No," Light says. He doesn't notice the way his fingers tighten around his grip on the thin hotel sheets. "No. That would be stupid."

"It is stupid," Ryuk agrees. "You're probably right."

"I'm definitely right." Breathe in. Breathe out. "So you don't know how much time you got from Dad — from my father?"

"No clue," Ryuk says cheerfully. "But it's okay. I've killed oodles of regular people, so I should still have a lot of life left to go."

Light abruptly, desperately hates him.

"I'm going to bed," he says. "Talk to you in the morning."

"Cool," Ryuk says. "I'll go sightseeing."

---

a/n: happy 11/11 :)

#light yagami #soichiro yagami #ryuk #death note #hahahaaa it is in fact nov 12 almost half past one in the morning. california time even!#im so glad i can actually post this at a reasonable time. not in terms of tumblr reasonable. in terms of plot reasonable

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wizardsix · 1 day ago

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ok... so I have finally finished veilguard after about 90 painful hours (two playthroughs). im not gonna write an actual review about all of my detailed thoughts bc it'll actually take days, this is just to at least get my general thoughts out and see if anyone else feels the same or if ive actually lost it.

overall it is the weakest dragon age game story-wise, and I'd give it a nice lukewarm 4/10.

(i wrote this post right after I finished the game on the weekend so maybe I sound a bit harsh, I tried to edit it to be more reasonable lol but I didn't really want to delete this since I do still stand by a lot of this)

I really tried to go in with an open mind, bc I always want to experience media in full before making any kind of judgement, but about a few hours in I had this horrible feeling that once again this was another soulless, rushed game, and I still don't feel any different after finishing the game.

what stuck out to me was that there's no sense of urgency despite what the plot is, serious topics are not treated with care as the writing overall is shallow, and the gods as well as any other enemy you encounter are just cartoon villains (and apparently the lore retconning, but I'm not well-versed enough to dissect that so I won't).

I can't take this plot seriously when it feels so disjointed and forced and lazy. and I see no point in caring about anything when choices literally don't matter. no say in who you recruit, no say in the relationships with them and they have almost no awareness of rook, definitely doesn't matter if you have allies or not bc they show up anyway, and only four companions are locked into unavoidable decisions where one of them bites the dust no matter what (which is strange bc why are harding and davrin forced to die no matter if they're at hero status while bellara and neve can literally survive blight if they're at hero status), so it's impossible to try to strategize for better (or worse) outcomes with all the people you've gathered when there's only one right answer that the game pretty much tells you instead of letting you think for yourself (and side note this game does an incredible amount of hand holding). the game actively tries to trick you into thinking your choices matter with the onscreen notifications, but nothing matters bc the devs clearly had only one story in mind and for some reason lied that it had "complex choices".

also rook in general wasn't interesting as a protagonist bc they were written to be perfect. they always know what to say and are so supportive of everyone. they never struggle with anything. not even with leadership beyond "man leading a team is hard :/" but it doesn't actually show how hard it is by having actual volatile conflict between the companions* or showing how their plans sometimes fail. which, if we actually had choices that mattered, would have helped develop that struggle. also? what's with everyone being so friendly? I'm not gonna get into that but everyone is so eerily nice and it's been said a lot but yeah, the world is extremely sanitized and devoid of any real conflict aside from the gods I guess.

*(like off the top of my head cassandra fighting with varric and accusing him of not being on their side or how the inquisitor can literally punch dorian and solas if approval is low enough or fenris and anders bordering on killing each other is not the same as lucanis and davrin distrusting each other or people being uncomfortable with emmrich's necromancy. it just scratches the surface of conflict and never goes anywhere)

and let me say real quick again, there's nothing wrong if they wanted to make a more rigid story about being a hero. it's been done a million times and it can be executed well, but if you do that you need to make sure you 1) don't lie to people and 2) actually flesh out your (especially main) characters and plot to give people a reason to care. look at dragon age 2. hawke is a fixed protagonist with their own life front and center. they ultimately only have two choices (siding with mages or templars), but it works bc the game took time to build up the conflict straight from act 1 so by the time chaos happens in act 2 and 3 you understand why bc it's Been brewing the whole time. it just makes sense. the villains as well have sound reasons and feel real instead of being evil just bc. the story is more grounded, yet you have choices. you decide if hawke ends up alone or not. you decide how they approach situations with force or diplomacy. there's none of that in veilguard. a game that supposedly took 10 years to make. when dragon age 2 took almost 16 months (yes I know da2 also has problems like the fact that the templars are always proven right but this isn't the place to dissect that).

I want to be fair though and I do want to restate what I enjoyed about the game. the cc (though would it kill them to have more variety in face textures like age and body types beyond average.. also no colour wheel... especially since they claimed their cc was so good), the map progression/visuals/exploration (how certain places become more blighted overtime), the factions (though I feel there should have been more content for your faction, and helping them or not should have mattered more), the combat (did not feel like a slog, pretty fun and mindless), the companions (bellara, davrin, emmrich, harding, and lucanis had solid personalities and stories despite my complaints. neve was not memorable and I just feel sad for taash's bad writing), certain parts of the story were good, the intro and the point of no return sequences were solid, and the ending didn't feel rushed or boring compared to inquisition. and yes, I do appreciate that rook can be trans, I just think a little more subtly and care would've been nice.

another thing I did like and predicted was that varric died at the beginning of veilguard, and for a second I actually enjoyed that because i thought we were finally (a bit too late tho) getting some depth to rook and their own struggles of accepting his death and carrying this weight without him. and while I do think maybe they should've taken more time to establish the mentor/mentee relationship so we really feel rooks regret, I still think it was at least the right direction where in their grief they still see him, giving advice and narrating their journey.....but then it turned out to just be solas manipulating them the whole time, immediately destroying any emotional weight this reveal had.

whenever bioware has good ideas they shoot themselves in the foot and make it about solas. it's like nothing in the world exists without solas being involved somehow, and that is just incredibly boring and uninspired to me. not to mention solas just being an insufferable ass the whole time, which is fine, but it's not even in a compelling way like he used to be. he became so ugly by the end and the fact that the devs consider redeeming him the "good ending" and not giving him what he deserves is very telling and once again shows their own bias is king over good storytelling (solas' feelings should not come into play here, whether you/your companions live or die should determine good/bad ending since solas is trapped no matter what, only difference is who is trapped with him. idk but I personally think different endings actually means different outcomes). i will not go into the bs of the secret post credit scene, bc frankly I'm fed up with bioware's shitty writing and I won't be playing their next world ending space aliens game (unless they miraculously pull a good story out of their ass but lbr).

overall the bad outweighs the good for me. it's fun to play as a game, it's a decent fantasy game, but the story just doesn't do anything for me. sometimes I wonder if dreadwolf was a completely different game and was scrapped for veilguard last minute. maybe this was yet another inevitable industry fuck up and maybe there was a good story planned at one point. idk. all I know is bioware lied. respect and credit to the poor devs and writers who actually cared and to those who were kicked from the project, but in the end bioware promised too much and delivered too little.

#this is what happens when im forced to be on campus for 12 hours. bored out of my mind might as well make it everyone elses problem #anyway... i think I've said everything i need to. feel free to add on or whatever but if youre going to be an ass don't bother #or just send me an ask telling me how stupid i am and we can kiss about it #bioware critical #datv spoilers #dragon age spoilers #six speaks #i wanted to fix some of my points to be more clear but atp id never post this so ill edit when im more awake #please correct me if im wrong about anything. i don't really have time to dig deep into the game w college so id like to know

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wandixx · 1 day ago

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You'll never find the aswers ch.4

Words in this part: 5547

Story summary: M'gann was having an amazing day. She met with her civilian friends, drank an amazing smoothie, saw a cute dog. For a few hours, she didn't have to think about problems that took more than 20 minutes to solve. For a few hours, she could just be Megan.

And then there was a scream of a woman, mother, who thought too loud and faded too fast and M'gann wasn't enough to save her and it made her whole world come crashing down

And then Danny found her, with a soft smile and patient voice. He kneeled beside her to pick up the pieces.

And shards cut them both in the process.

This part summary: M'gann and Danny hold a funeral ceremony

Trigger warnings: Mention of Character Death (should I still put it in chapter tw with... everything this fic is?), (Made up) Funeral Traditions, Referenced Cultural Appropriation (I think? I'm not sure. He means well, he's trying but he just couldn't learn everything)

Please let me know if I forgot to put something here

first chapter, previous chapter

M'gann's hands were trembling. It didn’t make any sense since she was sitting in a relatively warm room and just trying to force herself to do her homework. But her hands were trembling and her head was empty. She pressed her pen to the paper anyway and wrote her human name in the corner to at least have something. It looked wrong. Her handwriting always looked weird when she was holding her pen so hard.

Mountain was unusually quiet. Most of the time it was just her and Conner here, and neither of them were particularly loud, but usually there was something to be heard. Rooms were soundproofed to give people with super hearing some chance to rest and everyone else some privacy, but M’gann almost always left her door at least cracked. It still was too quiet. Like there was nobody there in a fifty mile radius around her. Her ears were ringing just enough to be counted as a sound.

Artemis said once that when she couldn’t think of a way to start writing an essay, she would try to find a definition of the key word in the topic. It apparently was a good way to get started.

M’gann stared at the printed sentence for what felt like milenia and still didn’t know what she actually read, let alone identified a crucial part of it. Her brain just felt disconnected a bit. Not quite like she stood next to herself but like she leaned back a little.

She sighed and threw her head to stare at the ceiling for a moment as if it held answers to any of her problems.

Knock… knock, knock, knock-knock-knock!

Danny was at her door, knocking on the frame. At some point or another, way back when she thought she could actually help and save people and be a hero people expected her to be, back then Danny would come around to her room a lot and along the way they created a knocking system. This pattern meant something important.

She really didn't feel like she had energy for important.

Knocking repeated. She got up and opened the door fully. Her telepathy felt harder to use lately, as a side effect of overall impairment of psychic powers Martians typically experience at the times of great distress. In her case it depended on a day. Sometimes she could use her powers like nothing happened. Sometimes, like today, even the easiest tasks felt out of reach.

Danny smiled solemnly at her and slowly held out his hand. There were two colorful spheres in it, a bit smaller than a ping pong ball and imperfect in shape as if they were handmade by someone inexperienced. Her fingers brushed on the uneven surface. Breath caught in her throat, her lungs stilled. She recognized the colors, she recognized the texture, she recognized the scent.

Those were mourning orbs.

“Everything is ready” he announced earnestly, whispering as if it would be an utter sacrilege to speak any louder. She nodded. She looked back at her room, her eyes darting around anxiously. She was supposed to prepare urns. She didn’t even think about touching it.

“It alright, I've got it” Danny placated seeing her fear and shifted his bag to bring her attention to it. He was so gentle that M’gann wanted to cry a bit. What did she do to deserve it?

He held her hand now, soft and tender. There was an unexpected comfort coming from his familiar calluses rubbing against her still bruised skin.

“Are you ready? We can do it another time if your not”

Her vision blurred a bit but she nodded, exiting her room. They began walking, Danny leading the way to the place he found. She couldn’t bring herself to wonder where it was. Contact helped her stay more firmly in her body but her thoughts were still fuzzy around the edges. Their footsteps weren't making any sound. Danny most likely shared his intangibility with her, to make sneaking around easier. She was familiar with the tingling of her skin it caused.

He was careful but sure in his route. His head was slightly tilted, like always when he was continuously using his enhanced hearing. He was probably making sure they won't bump into anyone, even if they could turn invisible the moment someone showed up. If they wanted to disappear at all, in theory nobody should stop them from just coming outside.

She appreciated it. She didn't want to see anyone else right then.

She rarely thought about how harsh lights in the Mountain were and how intense smelt the lemon detergent they used for floors. Silence around them was heavy, overwhelming, loud in a way that didn't make any sense. Main room was staring when they crossed it, despite being empty.

She wasn't sure why she was able to breathe a little deeper only when they were by the door. Mountain was her home. She liked it. She felt safe there.

She felt like tearing her skin off until they left.

She had to blink a few times when the sun hit her eyes. She didn’t even realize how much darker it was inside. She didn't like the thought that it was her first time outside since she came back from school on Friday. It was late Sunday. Danny stopped and only continued after making sure she was alright. He let go of intangibility, letting their feet break twigs on the ground and brush along the soft grass.

It was warm outside, sun low enough to begin painting the sky in yellows and oranges and pinks while most of it stayed light blue. M’gann breathed in the scent of earth and leaves and overall life outside that felt too strong for how dry the past few days were.

“We're almost there. I hope you'll like it“ Danny said with a reassuring smile when she slowed down to take it all in. They stopped walking for a moment.

M’gann tried to return his smile but it felt wrong. Like she was possessing her own body and had to almost manually pull muscles for every gesture, continuously using wrong controls.

“I'm sure I will,” she said. She realized with a strat that it was the first time she spoke that day. Her voice was scratchy and uncomfortable. Judging by the concerned glance Danny sent her way, he caught it too. She cleared her throat like it could change anything. Her hand was lightly squeezed. They went deeper into the forest surrounding Mount Justice.

They walked a bit more, slower than before. Despite released intangibility that would indicate they didn't need to sneak around, Danny was careful to not break too many branches and M’gann followed suit. Here silence wasn't suffocating but sacred. Gentle wind was rustling leaves above their heads while a few birds sang. It was late enough both in the day and the year for them to appear after doing whatever they did the whole day outside of mornings and evenings full of music. Before… before the accident, she sometimes woke up early to watch the sunrise and listen to them, before heat became unbearable even for Earth born beings. She too wasn't too keen on the heat of summer.

They stopped in the clearing small enough that most of it was still in the shadows of surrounding trees. Only some rays of golden sunlight made it through the leaves, illuminating a miniature, fragile looking bush in the middle. The earth around it was freshly disturbed.

“We're here” Danny explained, barely louder than the breeze “You said you wanted something human to it and we usually put flowers so I took liberty and planted it here. Maybe it was too much. If it is, just tell me, I don't think it's settled enough to not survive uprooting. Sam helped me pick it, she mentioned something about flower language. I don't know much about it but I can try expla–”

“It's perfect, thank you” she choked out, not really listening. It truly was.

“Oh, okay. Okay, cool”

Sun was peeking in between leaves, marking their faces with golden flecks. Any other time she would say it looked almost magical. She felt alone all of the sudden. Of course Danny was there, silent and solemn but other than that, outside of this little clearing stopped in time, the whole world could stop existing and she wouldn't realize. She wouldn't care.

Mourning orbs somehow made their way to her hand, accompanied by a traditional necklace to carry one of them. Both of them already had some emotional residue in them, like all handmade things tended to. She liked it. Her heart felt warmer sensing utter devotion that sinked in with the time Danny spent working on them. It was too faint for him to catch, sincere as one could get.

Traditional necklace meant to hide one of them was clinically clean, made by some professional.

Danny put his bag on the ground, and took out a set of two urns. M’gann winced internally. They weren’t made by him, obviously. It wasn’t a problem. Process of creating urns was too complicated for even an untrained Martian to replicate, let alone human who had two weeks to learn. It was a sophisticated art, specifically cultivated by White Martians in their workshops. Urns Danny brought weren’t wrong in any outright visible way. They were clearly made by someone who knew their craft, a bit wider than normal but not enough to be incorrect. Clearly, the big rim was a part of the design for some reason. If she focused enough, she probably could even guess from which artist family they came. The urns were frankly stunning, painted with rusty reds, some oranges and muted yellows and white, the color of death and danger, bright yellow like Priest’s skin to signify how sacred the item and ceremony in general were, barely there smidge of hopeful light blue and saturated red like royalty’s skin to tell anyone who could see it, how important the person mourned was to the people attending a funeral. They held weird green tinge to them and M’gann carefully didn’t consider what most likely caused it, focusing on the a bit too complicated, ornate shapes and perfectly even surfaces. If she had a chance to get a traditional funeral when the time came for her, she’d like to get urns almost like these.

But they were dead. Carefully kept from being polluted by foreign feelings. M’gann knew it was an industry norm, almost no one wanted stranger’s feelings on their gift for the dead. But it rubbed her the wrong way. She wanted feelings on her gifts, even stranger’s would be better than this unnerving emptiness. She couldn’t stand that something so personal was so dead. It didn’t make sense on a level so fundamental she couldn’t quite express it in words in her own head. Her urns should be ingrained with her tears and if not, with anything else, they should hold someone’s passion for the craft or annoyance at weird request or something, anything really.

Many others shared her opinion on the matter, so often in between getting a finished product from a workshop and the funeral itself, there was a set time when family and others that were supposed to attend the main ceremony would meet to fill urns with their feelings.

But obviously Danny couldn’t know that. So his urns were empty, perverted, wrong like a macabre funhouse mirror. off just enough to make people unsettled while being right enough to immediately recognise yourself in a distorted image.

“Do you want me to leave or do it with you?” he asked, bringing her back from her mussing.

Did she want him to leave? Not really. It felt intimidating for some reason. Overwhelming. Lonely. She didn’t want to be by herself while pouring her heart out to the world. She wasn't supposed to be on her own while doing it.

On the other hand, despite his clear, enormous effort, Danny didn’t know what it was supposed to look like. If anything, this slight mishap with urns proved that there was so much he had yet to learn and she didn’t want his lack of knowledge to profane the ceremony. Especially since he didn’t have any connection, any reason to feel anything towards the woman in whose memory they even did it.

But he seemed earnest in his respectful silence, ready to give the unknown dead person all of the reverence they deserved. And she didn't want to be alone.

“Stay please“ she breathed out, so softly she wasn't sure he heard her. But he nodded, taking out two other orbs from his hoodie pocket.

“These were the trial runs,” he explained hurriedly “I took them just in case. I didn't plan on using them. And I only have two urns. I’ll get another two later, I promise”

“It's alright. You put a lot of effort into it all. Thank you”

Danny stared at her with a look somewhere between offended and absolutely appalled.

“You can't halfass preparations for the funeral, it's like, the most basic decency!“

There was some sort of weird longing and jealousy(?) that flared up when she said that, strong enough that her impaired brain picked it up. They should talk about that later. It was potentially something she could do to at least partially repay him for all the effort he was putting in helping her.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you mad-”

“It’s okay, you did nothing wrong. I’m just a bit touchy about this stuff. It’s not even a ghost thing, just a me thing, really. You had no way of knowing, it’s okay”

They’ll definitely have to talk about it later. Not now though. They had other things to get done at the moment.

“Alright. I’m still sorry”

Danny just sighed and went back to searching his bag.

With gritted teeth M’gann changed back to her true form. After so long in Megan’s body it felt wrong, too stretched out and squeezed in all of the uncomfortable places, but she stayed like that. There were no lies to be told at the funeral.

Some part of her wanted to scream and rub the skin off of herself.

“Should I switch to Phantom?” Danny whispered.

“It depends. Which form do you consider the true you?”

Halfa hadn’t said anything, furrowing his brows, analyzing her question from all the angles by the looks of it. After a long moment his face smoothed over again and looked her in the eyes.

“I’m here as your friend not as a hero. Tell me when you’re ready to start”

She nodded and with an unpracticed gesture she put one of the Mourning Orbs in the necklace. She took a few steps to stand at an appropriate distance from the bush. Under normal circumstances, in its place would be preserved brain and ashes of the body, or if it wasn’t possible, something truly personal to the dead person. They had neither. Even little bit of blood that got on her clothes wasn’t available as it disappeared the moment she switched clothes. It still made her sith when she thought about it. Her ectoplasm was useless two, covering M’gann in a way that even Danny couldn’t reverse.

Boy stood on the opposite side with a grim expression on his face, holding his a bit shapeless orb like it was both a lifeline and the most precious thing he ever encountered.

She wasn’t ready. She was terrified. The memory of the dead body in her arms was just at her fingertips and she wasn’t ready to actually remember. Her breath hitched. Danny nodded with an encouraging twitch of emotions.

Let it all out~ he seemed to say. His voice and that of her home sang in unison and she could only do so much against their joined forces.

First tear ran down her cheek, quickly joined by next and next.

She held the body in her hands, staring as the life slowly left it, each desperate thought getting quieter and quieter, more hopeless as M’gann tried her best to put crushed ribs back together based on telepathic touch alone because she didn’t have an x-ray amd the family was getting broken in front of her and she wasn’t sure if the gut wrenching sobs she heard came from her or from the little boy whose smile she saw in his mother’s dying thoughts. She destroyed this little boy and his family and she couldn’t do anything to fix it and an apology would be pointless but she was going to do it anyway. She was powerful and yet, she couldn’t save life in front of her and it was so unfair that her shortcomings hurt these innocent people.

She would switch their places if she could because they deserved to be happy and together and she could stand that they weren’t because of her and her knees hit the ground much stronger than she would think was possible in relieved memory. There was blood on her hands and she spent countless nights trying to wash it off, even though most of the bleeding was internal. Three was cheerful little boy waiting for his mom and she would never get to him because she was dying on M’gann’s lap and it was her fault and why wouldn’t world punish the responsible and not the bystander and she was choking, her chest tightly squeezed and it didn’t make sense because she didn’t need to breathe as much but earthly air still felt to thin and a woman on her lap drowned in her own blood and how could M’gann let it happen and, and, and…

And now she was using her friend who was already stretched thin and she kept worrying him and others and she was trying to get better and help people like she was supposed to instead of adding to their workload. But she couldn’t force herself to appear alright enough, not in front of Danny, being naturally more intune with emotions, and it was only a matter of time before they left because she was too much to deal with and was too weak and too useless to justify all their effort. She couldn’t get alright but she had to because she was supposed to be better and she trained more to get where she should already be but her mind and body kept slipping, kept betraying her and she was dead, the woman was dead because M’gann didn’t, couldn’t save her and now she was dead, she was dead.

She was dead, she was dead, she was dead…

Only when she couldn’t cry anymore, and when she got too tired to feel, did she open her eyes. With some surprise she realized she actually fell to her knees, back in the form she had that day. She shivered and quickly turned back to her true form. It wasn’t something that was supposed to happen.

Danny solemnly stood where he did before, fiddling with his hands like he did when he was stopping himself from doing something very intently. All of his feelings were kept tightly in his grasp, undetectable without an almost violent pressing. M’gann knew from experience how straining it was and it had to be undeniably harder for someone as unused as him.

She was almost sure he did that to not overwhelm her even more. She probably wouldn’t be able to tell him how thankful she was for that.

Curiously enough, despite how well he hid at the moment, she could sense the tangled mess of feelings he let out just before. She wasn’t in the right headspace to wonder or read what these emotions were but she knew they were strong. Much more intense than she expected of him. After all, he never even met the woman. He knew her only as a victim of M’gann’s shortcomings, taken from the world too soon. He wasn’t obliged to feel anything, to work on the whole memorial and yet he did, with more respect than she saw during some ceremonies she witnessed back home.

“Now we should burn it,” she said, her voice not raising above the quiet rustling of the leaves above their heads. In her White Martian form she could probably brush on them with her head if she stood straighter.

Burning was a complicated part. It had to be done calmly and slowly, with a confident hand so none of the ashes ended up outside of the small urn. Back on Mars, there were Priests and Priestesses, Flame Tamers who trained for ages to get rid of natural fear of fire and control flames before they caught anything they shouldn’t. Anyone inexperienced would taint the ceremony. Obviously they didn’t have anyone experienced anyway and they were both quite susceptible to the heat alone.

Flame Tamers always had a set of heavily ornate tools, that only ever they were allowed to touch. One of them, probably most important, was a stick with a funnel on the one end. It was still really precise to work with, but from what M’gann understood, it significantly facilitated the task. Danny took out a thin metal stick, from his seemingly bottomless bag. It looked like it belonged to chocolate fountain assorted silverware but she couldn't really judge him on that. She wasn't sure if there was punishment great enough for someone who would pervert such a sacred tool and gave it to anyone.

“Sorry, that's the best thing I could find”

No matter how he got everything else, there was no way he could get it too. It would be both too good and too unsettling. She was already uneasy from the horrible contrast between the calm, warm, beautiful day in the forest near the place she wanted to call home and the ceremony from her cold, unforgiving past, which was always held in the coldest of the caves, ones with the thinnest air. The most inhabitable ones.

“That’s alright”

Danny winced, looking like he wanted to disagree but didn’t say anything. They both stayed quiet for a long moment, on a lonely, quiet clearing.

“How do you want to do this?”

“What do you mean?”

“I only have a really vague idea how this part looks. Nobody wants to tell me how it looks. What do we do now?”

Of course nobody told him. She was surprised he learned this much anyway. He shouldn’t. How the ceremony goes was supposed to stay secret from anyone and everyone who didn’t attend it. It was too vulnerable an event to share anything outside.

But now Danny needed to know. Someone had to tell him.

M’gann explained even though her tongue felt too big and too dry in her mouth.

She wished she could just put information in his brain. She knew far too well how Danny would react to that.

“Oh, alright, alright. Do you want me to do it or…”

“You. I wasn’t trained.”

I still fear fire, she didn’t say.

It will hurt less if it’s you who messes up, she didn’t say.

He heard it anyway and responded with a nod.

He stabbed the mourning orb with a stick (M’gann didn’t wince, M’gann didn’t wince) and fished out a lighter from his hoodie pocket. It was the lighter, night sky blue one, patterned with golden stars. The one he almost never used because it was too precious to him. Gift from someone he couldn’t bring up without tears, let alone mention them by name.

M’gann felt like crying again.

He kneeled, doing his best to stabilize his hand over the urn and let a flame lick an urn until part of it turned warm gray and started crumbling. If Danny used the right materials (and he did, as far as she could tell by texture) it didn’t need to be on fire the whole time. Just this starting nudge.

Smoke smelled like iron on the surface. Just right.

She started whispering prayers around the gulp in her throat, their soft melody rolling easily off her tongue. She should be louder, they were meant to be heard, because how else can gods know to help her traveling to whatever was her place to rest. She should be louder because her song was lost in between chirping birds and quiet wind.

But the prayer was never meant to be sung by one person. There was never supposed to be anything else that could be louder. (She wasn’t sure if she remembered words right).

This woman had her own gods anyway. Martian ones didn’t need to guide her.

She sang a little louder anyway.

She was on a very poetic passage about promise to never forget and always grieve when Danny’s hand trembled. Ash almost got over the rim of the urn, almost got polluted. M’gann flinched and stopped singing.

Up until this point he was doing surprisingly well. Maybe even suspiciously if she didn't know he had no way and no reason to actually train it. But there he was, almost as sure and precise as some Flame Tamers were.

Whoever designed the urns probably suspected that. She didn’t want to think about what would happen if they were standard size.

Even from the height of her ‘true’ form she could see tremors running through his body and a way his face was screwed to contain crying. The way he seemed to carefully measure each breath. He caught his wrist with other hand, his grip so strong that his knuckles turned white.

“Sorry about it. Don’t interrupt yourself” he muttered, his voice hoarse from unshed tears.

Some dark part of her mind wanted to listen to him, but the thought lasted no longer than half a second, drowned by guilt. Up until this point M’gann had never really considered how attending a funeral would affect Danny. He just seemed so ready and almost… excited for the lack of a better word. Eager to help like he always did. Never uncomfortable, even a slightest bit, with an idea, other than the first time when she wrote it off as overall stress from consoling her right after the… right after.

But she wasn’t really looking for it either, was she? How many things she missed because of her stupid impaired brain or because she was too self centered on her own pain or because he tucked it fast enough to consider it her mistake. But he was clearly not fine and his orbs were filled to the brim and everything filling them was just tad too personal.

“Are you sure you’re alright? We can take a break. Or I can finish on my own.”

It wasn’t really supposed to happen but really, there were so many rules they broke. It wouldn’t change anything if they broke one more. Danny’s wellbeing was more important anyway, plus it’s not even that she needed Martian gods to help the woman. He said himself, it was mostly to help her and she wouldn’t feel any better if her friend worked himself to breakdown.

“I’m fine Meg” he muttered, hiding his tears a bit better “Just… It’s a beautiful prayer. I got moved by it” he explained, not lying but not telling the truth. There was another pang of jealousy that slipped his control. She made sure to remember it. They couldn’t talk about it at the moment, but they had to speak about it later “You can finish, I’m fine”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Sing Meg. I want to know how it ends,” he said softly. If his tone was a bit less sincere he would sound demanding. He didn’t. She knew if she really dug her heels in she could stop and Danny wouldn't fault her.

She sang again, this time it didn’t feel like she had to fight wind to be heard. She was singing for the victim and Danny both. Yes, they both had their own gods but Martian ones could lend their hands. Maybe that’s what they both needed to rest.

This time it felt like a soft breeze carried her voice, like chirping birds turned a bit more solemn and they complemented the simple but powerful melody. Words rolled off her tongue with ease. Last bits of her devastation and grief were unsticking from her soul, leaving her body with each line, each sound.

It was cleansing.

She looked up at the sky when she finished, pinks and oranges familiar in a beautiful and terrifying way.

She heard rustling when Danny stood up. She didn’t realize she zoned out long enough for him to finish burning the second orb. It wasn’t important. He smiled at her, small and comforting, craning his neck to look her in the eyes. He rummaged around his bag again and took out intricate containers that usually held the brain and ashes from the rest of the body with some solvent. They too were created by a clear master of the art.

She really needed to ask Danny how he got all of this.

“Where do we…?”

Before he could finish, she gently took both objects out of his hands. It was something she needed to do on her own.

She carefully put them in the same distance from the anemic bush that marked the center of the grave circle. Usually the remains of the dead were placed first thing first during the ceremony, but in cases like this, when there was nothing, the reminder of it was put as almost last. There was no place for lies during the funeral. Even if the lie was just to make it hurt a tiny bit less.

Then she fixed the placement of the urn, in the circle around the brain. She carefully didn’t think about how it should be half circle, about to be finished when everyone moved on, and not mere two lone urns.

“To finish we need stones that’ll mark the border of the grave,” she explained, looking for anything sufficient. Usually funerals were attended by enough people so there was no problem with making a consistent circle but there were only two of them. Stupid tears filled her eyes. She wished she could do it properly. There was no way they could do all of the steps correctly and she knew from the start. It went better than she could expect.

She still felt an urge to throw a tantrum about everything that was wrong, wrong, WRONG!

Danny fished out two big stones, almost squares, a bit less than foot wide, about four inches tall. She knew that he had enhanced strength but it still looked unnecessarily heavy. Especially when paired with everything else he had to carry.

“Do you try to get a hernia or something? There are other ways to skip training, you know?” she joked, drying her eyes with her wrist.

Danny stayed silent for a moment, as if he was looking for words, with empty eyes and blank face. M’gann didn’t know if it was an angle or new light or something totally else, that made dark bags under his eyes more pronounced. He seemed a bit paler, too.

“Nah. But you two deserve all the best things I could get for you,” he muttered softly. He raised both stones higher, pointedly closer to her hands. He smiled at her, earnest and solemn.

Was he trying to make her cry again? If he did, he was doing a great job at it.

“Yeah?” she choked out around a sudden gulp in her throat.

“Of course”

They put stones across each other, small, missed twig snapping under the weight. Birds kept singing cheerfully and wind kept blowing as if to spite them, as if to remind them that the world was still moving forward and even things closest to them wouldn’t stop for even a second.

It should be silent. Why wouldn’t it be silent?!

M’gann finally turned back to her green form. Danny quietly opened his arms, a quiet invitation to the hug she could reject if she so wanted. She threw herself into it fast enough to make the boy grunt.

It wasn't an all encompassing type of hug, they were too similar in size for that. But it was warm, soft and unyielding in all the right places. She was safe in it, separated from the outside world in a way no walls could ever manage. Like the most beautiful song, she could hear and feel life in Danny’s body, each deep breath and small twitch of muscles and subconscious moves of his head that made his hair tickle her cheek. She wasn’t exactly tense before but her body uncoiled the longer she was being held. It wasn’t hard to tell that Danny did too.

Neither of them mentioned hands fisted on the backs of their shirts. Neither of them mentioned how the deep breaths turned just a bit more shallow and hitched. Neither of them mentioned how tender grass cushioned their fall.

M’gann couldn’t tell she felt better, with a tension headache and all of her emotions just too close and raw.

But she felt lighter and that was probably the first step.

******

I love this chapter, it's probably one of my favorites, but god damn was it pain to write. I liked writing it, but I was getting to it like dog to a hedgehog. I just had to be in the right mood to write it, y'know. It's probably kinda why I didn't finish rewriting before I had to start posting and why I run out of backlog hah (and right at the part that I think needs the biggest rewrite and cannot bring myself to it. Though now I have college deadline maybe I'll manage to procrastinate in a productive way)

And I had absolute blast comming up with these traditions, @audhumla-sailor can confirm that

But yeah, I love this chapter, I hope you like it too thanks to or despite a bit more... poetic way of writing

Drink something and check in with yourself if your binge reading

AO3 link

Next part

#dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdcbang2024 #g&g24 #danny fenton & m'gann m'orzz #wandixx writes #have a nice day dear stranger who got to this part

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