#there is so much lore to dig into from Before that I think it would be a neat option

[valentine-cafe]

i have been SOOOO excited waiting for yall to post takara and yall didnt disappoint <3

could iiiii perhaps req smth like her chasing us down, lil bit of silly pred/prey yk! some sort of base instinct to pin you down, have his way w you, and to get their teeth digging into you if only you’d just stay still… but that��s what usually what makes the victory all the sweeter :3

˖⁺. “ catch me if you can ” :

﹙ kitsune bf x gn afab reader ﹚.𖹭 ݁ 

. . . verse 9948e takara x gn afab reader !! 🍓 : ﹙ kitsune  ˖ mercenary character ﹚

dating a kistune is fun and all until you remember how much he loves chasing you down and fucking you raw

﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ predator/prey ˖ rough sex ˖ penetrative sex ˖ multiple orgasms ˖ scratching ˖ biting | wc : 1.4k 

﹙ receipts ﹚: sorryy this took so long but we hope it's to your liking!

꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱

You had never truly caught onto it. . . How your kitsune boyfriend stared away at you with hunger in his eyes everytime you playfully ran from him.

It itched away at him. Instincts kicking away at each part of his body to chase you down and grab you, fuck you into the ground while you moan and scream out his name.

He’s dreamt about it. He dreams about it. To sink his teeth into your flesh and claw away at you when you don’t want to lay still below him- wriggling around on the ground whilst pathetically whimpering out his name over and over. Your brain dumb and only focused on the feel of his cock splitting you open.

“It’s simple rules.”

Before you stands your kitsune boyfriend, with his fox smile widening as he begins to explain the little game he has been waiting for you to participate in.

“Just think a normal game of tag. But, when I catch you. . . “ He hums, tapping at the bottom of his chin with his index to pause his speech.

You tilt your head, blinking your eyes together as you let out a small yawn, before opening them up once more to see he has disappeard from his spot.

“Takara—” He could squeal at the sound of wild confusion in your voice. Most would think you would be used to the shenanigans of your boyfriend by now, but in honesty, you don’t think you could ever could with the tricks he pulls on you every day.

One second he is gone and the next you yelp as he appears out of thin air from behind you. Head of pink, fluffy hair nuzzling into the crook of your neck. He lets out a little fox laugh.

Before the thought of giving him a little scolding even passes through your mind, your hands stand from anticipation at the words crooned in your ears: “I get to fuck you into the ground. Until we are both exhausted and messy.”

Your entire face heats up like the fires of the home of the fire elementals, while your breath hitches and instinctively, you grab onto his robes from behind. Knuckles turning white from the newfound excitement rushing through you.

                                                                 . . . fast foward !! 🍒 :

  Ragged breaths escape you as your lungs feel like their life is being squeezed out of them. Sore feet thud against the dirt covered ground of the mushroom forest that the kitsune resides in.

Places such as these you do not have to worry about being caught by other spiritfolk, they tend to stay away from the mushroom forests.

Although Takara would not care much should a lonesome traveller come stumbling by and catching the sight of him pounding you from behind on a large mushroom puffing out aphrodisiac dust.

The laughs of the kitsune echoes throughout the forest, light footsteps right behind you at all times. It is as though he is right on your footsteps, ready to grab at the fabric of your clothes and drag you backwards. Take you right then and there.

And you do indeed spot them in your peripheral vision.

Yelping, you turn your heel and try to rush to the right. But they pounce on you just before you can make a quicker run for it.

He has to admit, you last longer than he though you would. There is not much time to think on that matter either, hands too busy ripping away at your pants and underwear to get through to your drooling cunt. Slick with arousal and anticipation.

Why, he hasn’t even touched you intimately yet and your pretty cunt is fluttering like he is balls deep inside already, thrusting away at it to draw out long the delicious sounds she makes for him.

“Fuck, dariin. . . Lay — Lay still” He huffs, eyes feral like a crazed man’s. Pink tails sway from side to side violently, while the pink of their irises drowns out with the expanding pupils. “Look at her, already crying for me.”

The groans he manages to perform draws out plenty of whines and sounds from you, that has him undoing his kimono as quickly as he possibly can. Freeing the hard cock which previously struggled in the confined space of fabrics upon fabrics.

You squirm, as if trying to keep the game going for the thrill of it. However your boyfriend above doesn’t take any of it. His hand pushing you back down onto the ground whilst lining up his cock to your entrance, collecting slick and mixing it with his precum.

Who is he trying to fool. You barely need to be prepped with how wet you are — The most infurating thing is that you keep moving and squirming

“I said lay still — Stop fucking moving.”

His chest crashes into your back. Squeezing you further down against the mossy ground. While his hands hurry and lift your hips. Parting your legs like it’s his job.

Splitting your walls apart, he helps you arch your back to press you a little closer. Setting a fast and animalistic pace for you as he fucks into you. With his whines and whimpers scattering out into the forest and farther. Let the world hear how he makes moans rip out of you.

“Takara!!” You cry out, hands struggling to find a spot to grip. Hair? Tails? Back? It’s too hard to decide when your brains feel like they’re already fucked half-way out. His hips smacking against yours and sending you straight to the apex point of pleasure.

He’s always fucked you open in a way that made you lose yourself completely. But this? Gods. Poor cunt is clenching onto him for dear life.

“Just look at her. Taking me— hnhhhnghn!! takinggg me so — hah- hgnhe ha- well!” He moans out. Humping away at that one bundle of nerves that twists at your tummy and threatens a slew of cum to squirt out of you every second now.

“S-so soffaaaaaaaast— K-Kara— KaraaA! pp-pleas-s-zzzzzzzzeeee! mmmgnh! Harder!!” It’s like ecstasy. Your little please. They shoot straight to his head pulling away all of the self-restraint he may have hung onto an inch.

He can’t just not listen to you right? Oh he fucks hard, giving you it all. His cock pulsating inside of you and squirting out strings of cum each time he feels the flutter of your walls around him and then clench that comes after.

The way that one vein on his cock feels brushing up against one of the nerves forces your head to limp. Hanging from his arm, while your jaw grows slack.

Your vision white with the pleasure coursing through you, and this is only the first round. Goodness, you have no idea how you are going to keep up with him when he’s fucking you like this.

“That’s it that’s it— yes” With strained encouragement he pulls the orgasm out of you. Settling the pace for a slightly slower one. Only for him to go back the second you whine in protest.

“So good at taking it baby, so good. Like it when I fuck you right here huh?”

His nails scratch across the flesh of your thighs, leaving the smallest of tears in your skin. Oh the prettiest droplets of maroon trickle down the delicate skin. It is too much to handle, the smell is intoxicating too. . . A bite wouldn’t be so bad either right?

Pain mixes with pleasure, distracting you from the momentary feel of teeth biting down against your shoulder. Only when you hear the muffled fox-like whines tumble out of your boyfriend’s mouth do you realise he’s biting you — the sight itself has you groaning out and crying from the pleasure.

His name leaves you thousands of time in a row, they’d be millions by the time he is finished with you.

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[cuteniaarts]

Behold, my latest and most enamouring new obsession:

Malina, Lady of the Chief of the Northern Water Tribe. As if Red Lotus child OCs weren’t niche enough

[lady-bee-holmes]

So, I realize the intent in trilogies is to move a story forward, rather than back, but wouldn’t it be neat for a prequel storyline for Dishonored 3?

Like, whether it would follow some of the early Marked or focus on our resident void boy, it would be cool to see the world before the main storyline

Especially if it followed our void boy in the time before becoming the Outsider

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

About the "kwamis as mentors" angle: Interesting to read and analyse, yet I can't help but feel they were not necessarily meant to be seen as mentors. At least to me, they seemed to be kind of whacky mascot characters who are tied to the lore, who have a personality to crack a joke or point something out or cause a little situation or be cute, but nothing more.

They are rather naive magical entities chained to jewelry (a fact they don't seem to mind that much or think about at all except for Plagg) and all that talk about "being around for 5000 years" and having seen many holders before is just there to make them seem more wise than they actually act like. From what I've seen on the show I would even assume there's a threshold to how much they can even mature emotionally and understand humans. Sometimes Tikki and Plagg even come off as indifferent and egoistical towards their holders (like an example you gave with Tikki, or Plagg's fixation on cheese over Adrien at times).

So...sorry if I missed it, but why do you view them as mentor characters? You made an interesting post about rom-com vs magical girl and the magical girl part is exactly why I always viewed them just as critters to appeal to kids, but nothing more. I can see that the show's writing is so inconsistent that sometimes they are portrayed as wise but more often then not they are just background noise to get a little interaction on screen so that the characters are not talking to themselves about miraculous stuff or to point something out for the audience.

The show's writing is pretty weird, so there are elements that are hard to get a clear read on. The Kwamis are one such element. When they're one-on-one with their chosen, they often feel like mentors to me. When they're all together, they almost always read like "critters to appeal to kids" (mostly because there are too many of them to let them have individual personalities when they're all together). So while I think that they're supposed to be mentors, it's not like that's the only canon-accurate read.

To dig into what I mean by the one-on-one writing, let's look at this exchange from Feast:

Master Fu: See, Wayzz? If Marinette had kept her Miraculous, the sentimonster would have swallowed her right up. Wayzz: Or she would have transformed into Ladybug and fought it. Master Fu: Sometimes fighting is futile, Wayzz.

And then later on we get this:

Wayzz: Master, look! Ladybug and Cat Noir, despite their ridiculous costumes, they haven't let you down! Wang Fu: That's impossible! They don't have their Miraculous! Wayzz: Master, it's obvious it's them—who else would do something so crazy? Cat Noir (Adrien): Hey, have a taste of this! Some exploding banana split from Bananoir! Ladybug (Marinette): Much tastier than any Miraculous! Wayzz: Look, Master, there's no use in running! Your disciples never give up the fight, no matter what! With or without their Miraculous, they are Ladybug and Cat Noir!

That's some pretty active mentoring right there.

Wayzz is probably the character that feels the most like a mentor to me. When he's with Fu, he feels like Fu's partner or adviser, which is why I think that the Kwami's aren't supposed to just be cute critters. They're regular ol' Jimmy Crickets meant to act as a conscience that the characters can talk to since this is visual media and you want a way for the characters to talk through their thoughts instead of having them do it all internally.

I also present this exchange from Desperada as evidence:

Adrien: Plagg, Ladybug needs me. She needs "Adrien"! Plagg: If you asked me, this whole idea is worse than cheese in a can. Adrien: She thinks I'm the perfect guy for this mission. Plagg: You can't be Cat Noir and another superhero at the same time! Which means that you're not the perfect guy for this mission. Adrien: The Lucky Charm told her I am. Plagg: That's not how it works. Why am I bothering? You're not even listening.

We then get Plagg reiterating that this is a bad idea through multiple loops, ending with this:

Plagg: Ah! At last, you've come to your senses. Adrien: I'm not sure Ladybug will have very fond memories of her experience with "Adrien Agreste". Plagg: Then make up for it as Cat Noir.

See? I told you Plagg can be a good mentor when he wants to! Tikki, take notes!

I'd even call this bit from Sapitos some quality subtle mentoring from Trixx:

Alya: Oh please, Ladybug! We'd make a great team! I could help Cat Noir and you every day! Ladybug:(her earrings ring) I'm about to transform back! Hurry! Alya: Please? Ladybug: I have to go! I'm trusting you! (opens a nearby door and goes inside, so she can detransform) Trixx: You're absolutely right, Alya. I'm sure the three of you would make quite the team! You have all the makings of a true superhero. You're strong, brave; but most of all, you're trustworthy.

Way to both build Alya up and reminder her of her duty, Trixx. Gold star. Quality mentorship!

So are the Kwamis supposed to be mentors? Who knows! I just see them fill the role often enough to feel comfortable judging them through that lens.

Miraculous also isn't the only magical girl team show to make the cute critters into mentors. That's a pretty standard path even though it's also common to see the critters used to sell merch/appeal to kids and nothing more. In terms of classic magical girl team shows, I'd say that the Kwamis are written way more like Luna and Artemis from Sailor Moon than Mini Mew from Tokyo Mew Mew.

[thirdsaltyhunter]

Lost With You

Dean Winchester x gn!Reader

Summary: getting caught in a storm with your sweet boyfriend

Warning: FLUFF, kissing, swearing probably, gn but use of 'sweetheart'

700ish words

A/N: little gif drabble, not proofread all mistakes are my own

You had set out for a hunt in Minnesota earlier in the morning. Sam was out of commission due to hurting his leg on the last hunt, so that left you and Dean to deal with the latest pop up of werewolves alone. Even though you hated seeing Sam hurt, you'd be lying if you said you minded the alone time you were getting with your boyfriend. You loved the long drives with Dean; it felt freeing being with him, windows rolled down blasting music.

At this point the sun had long since set and you had been driving most of the day, aside from the occasional food or gas stop. You had hoped to make it to the motel and get some shut eye before scoping out the town in the morning. Driving down a stretch of backroads, everything was going as planned until the sky suddenly decided to unleash the most intense rainstorm you had ever seen. The sky darkend even more and the droplets pelted the windshield so hard you couldn't hear the radio anymore.

"Son of a bitch, the bottom really dropped out didn't it," Dean said clicking on the brights, not that it helped.

After a few minutes of struggling to see the road and losing the reception on the GPS, Dean pulled over onto the side of the road. As good of a driver as he was, he knew when to throw in the towel. Right now he couldn't see more that two feet in front of the car, had no idea where he was going, and he was not willing to put you or his car in danger for the sake of making it to the motel.

"Guess we're stuck here for a while" he turned to you.

"Where even are we?", you asked pulling out you phone to see if you had any reception. To no avail.

"Honestly I have no idea" he said with a humorless laugh "But get comfy, I don't think it's clearing up anytime soon". He turned and reached over the seat, digging into one of the duffel bags and pulling out a few lore books.

Turning back, he tossed one to you before resting his back against the door and started flipping through his book.

After about a half and hour of reading, you started to lose focus. You were tired physically and tired of researching. Your eyes drifted up to your boyfriend, you couldn't help but admire how he looked right now. It was pitch black outside, but the glow of the dashboard lights illuminated the side of his face, bringing out all of the contours of his face, the curve of his lips, the soft freckles on the bridge of his nose. You loved him so much and it was moments like this that made you realize that all the more. Moments like this where you were able to make the best out of the worst situations; together.

You're definitely staring and now he's looking at you. "What?", he asks wondering why you're staring at him with a peaceful smile on your lips.

"What?" you echo softly, sounding dazed and tried.

"You're staring" a teasing smirk graces his face but he can tell you're still lost in thought.

For another moment you look into his eyes, losing all sense of reality and you can't help but reach over and cup his cheek. There's a brief look of confusion the crosses his face before he closes his eyes, leaning into your touch.

"You ok?" he asks eyes still closed before opening them to gauge your reaction.

"Sometimes I love you so much it overwhelms me."

You said it so genuinely that Dean was taken aback. He didn't really know how to respond to that and if he thought about the weight of your words it would probably make him cry. Before he could think about it, he was reaching for you.

"C'mer," he said tossing his book into the floorboard and pulling you to lay between his legs with your head over his heart.

You sighed contentedly, nuzzling you face into the warm flannel lining of his jacket.

"I love you too, sweetheart", he said pulling his spare jacket over you and rubbing his hand up and down your back.

He looked down at you and could see that you were teetering on the edge of falling asleep. "Let's just stay here for tonight", the rain was still coming down heavy and he was pretty sure he was too tired to find his way to the motel.

"Ok," your voice was muffled by how your face was hidden in his shirt.

Dean smiled down at you and felt sleep tugging at him too. He settled back against the door, feet propped up on the bench seat with you laying on him, and thought that, in the grand scheme of it all, there was nowhere else he'd rather be than right here. Lost with you.

[blorbocedes]

when I got into f1 a few years ago, im pretty sure the friends who had introduced me to it hadn't expected how much I'd get into it. I certainly never expected it. but wow. max was my guy before I even knew who he or f1 was, and then I was so privileged to watch him win and win and win. the literal peak of his career. 4 championships in a row. this season was extremely enjoyable as a racing fan, I had full belief max would win the championship so it was a matter of how and not if. and he proved me right! but such a competitive season, so many other teams getting their foot in, so many new first wins, surprise upsets. from next year it'll be a completely new f1, half the grid is gonna be freshmen, lewis in ferrari which I still haven't digested. ultimately in a way im glad this final race was a lando win and ferrari podium because it showed how much the status quo has shifted. max nowhere near the podium and how redbull are going into next year no longer the favourites to win. and unlike the last 3 years where I watched every single race I realized I can't do that anymore. At times f1 was a wonderful distraction when irl got really hard, but at some point - like the drivers going thru radical transformation, lewis leaving merc, nico leaving monaco, max becoming a dad! before this season lando had never won a race and now he's ready to fight for a championship crazyyy - I had to wonder if putting away time and cancelling plans for 24 weekends keeps me stuck in the same place. change is hard and scary. having a routine, of f1 to go back to is nice. but when does it become a crutch? was something I was thinking of this year. that's why I chose to enjoy watching every race to the fullest, and I honestly had a blast. because I knew I couldn't be doing that anymore. my favourite part about f1 is the community and the friends. I love you guys, I love writing, I love digging up lore, I love reading fics, I love the drama of silly season, I love the funny talented interesting people, sometimes even the fan wars are entertaining. and I don't want to lose that. so when I say my last full season, I mean I don't think I'll be making time for all 24 races next year. but I plan on sticking around and being here, for a while at least. I mean, we have this whole season to now digest and go crazy over and that part is done best with community. I have entire fics left to post!!! I don't know how much I'll be around next year, maybe I'll miss f1 too much by March, maybe redbull will be really fast. I know I'll always cherish this year as the best entire f1 season I followed, and im happy to end it at that. sorry 2 the haters who thought I was leaving for good 😁

tldr: this isn't the last you'll see of me. still here. this isn't the end. it's the slow start of the long goodbye

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Poems

main masterlist | supernatural masterlist

summary: dean searches your room when you’re missing, and the love letters he finds break his heart

pairing: dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 1.9k (1.5k excluding poems) 

warnings: reader goes/is missing, language, 

author’s note: please don’t make fun of my “poetry”, i know it’s not good that’s why i don't write poems lol

“Hey Dean, I’m working a case near Wichita so I’ll probably be back home by the end of the week. See you soon, bye.”

“That’s the last I heard from her,” Dean told his brother after playing him the message you left. “It’s been over a week, I’m gettin’ worried here!”

“Do you know what kinda case she was working?” Sam asked, Dean shook his head. “Okay, well I’m sure she’s fine, Dean. Let’s call the hospitals around where she is and ask if she’s there.”

“You do that, I’m gonna head to Wichita,” Dean replied.

“I think we should call the hospitals first, Dean. She said she was near Wichita, she could be anywhere from here to there!”

Dean sighed but agreed with Sam’s plan.

**

The boys had no luck with any of the hospitals so they decided to head over to Wichita and look for you. They searched for a few days before heading back to the bunker, hoping you might be there waiting for them. You weren’t, of course, and that only made their worry grow.

You’d been missing for nearly two weeks!  

Dean thought there might be some kind of clue in your room and decided that searching it was next on his to-do list. Though he knew he was grasping at straws, he did it anyway.

Opening the door to your room, he smiled at the poster near your bed. It was the one he’d gotten you for Christmas last year. It was a kind of gag gift—it was his favorite band. (His real gift had been much more thoughtful.)

He began his search at your desk, digging through the mess of papers splayed out on the wood surface. His brows furrowed when he found one paper in particular. It looked like… a love poem?

The way your hair looks in the morning

The way your laugh adds life to moments boring

The way your breath hits my neck when you’re standing just behind me

Reaching over to grab something off the table

A lore book, of all things to be

And the way your eyes light up when you look into mine

I swear I almost see a hint of love

Behind those piercing starlights

Your lips on mine is what I need

Did you hear me? 

I said kiss me, you fool!

We’ve not got much time

In this line of life 

And I need you at my side.

Dean didn’t know if the poem would be considered “good” in the public eye, but he knew it made his heart clench. You were in love? But… with whom?

To him, the words were beautiful, and the thought that you wrote them about someone else broke his fucking heart. He knew there were no clues to your whereabouts in the next poem, but of course, he read it anyway.

I think of you when I drive and spot a classic car

I think of you when I eat a cheeseburger 

And I’ll turn it upside down when I’m missing you

I think of you when I hear a Zepplin song

And I turn the music up when I’m not with you

I think of you when I see anyone wear flannel

Or a leather jacket that’s clearly a size or two too big

And I love to think of you

It just makes sense to me

I love to picture you beside me

At night when I can’t sleep

Or when I get scared of what I’m facing

I think of what you would do

Day or night

Night, day, or noon 

I always think of you

Whoever this mystery person was, they were fucking lucky. Dean had never felt so jealous in his entire life. He always thought you two had a “will they won’t they” side to your relationship but at that moment he realized it was completely one-sided. The fun, flirty side to all your late-night conversations had just been friendly. Two friends playfully talking as if they both wanted to be more.

Of course Dean wanted to be more. Of course he knew he wanted to be with you. But now? Now he knew he’d either missed his chance or he simply never had one.

You were in love with someone that wasn’t him. And the love you’d been writing about wasn’t the kind someone gets over. It’s the kind that sticks—for life. The kind that people write songs about, the kind that people fight wars over, and the kind that makes people go crazy in the best way. 

He knew he’d found that love when he first fell for you, but it turned out you had found that love in someone else.

“Anything?” Sam asked, walking into your room.

“Uhm,” Dean cleared his throat, hoping his eyes didn’t look as cloudy as they felt. “No, nothing important. Just some love letters or something.” 

Sam furrowed his brows and picked up one of the poems off the desk, one that Dean had not read yet. As the taller Winchester read what you wrote his eyes grew wide, practically popping out of his head as his mouth fell open.

“Oh my fucking god!” Sam exclaimed. “Y/n’s in love with you?” He looked at his older brother in shock.

“Me? No, these poems are about whoever she’s been seeing recently, they aren’t about me. We’re just friends.”

“You haven’t read this one yet, have you?” Sam asked with a small smile before handing it over.

You asked me today; “what’s your favorite color?”

And I just shrugged; “I don’t know, blue?”

Cause how could I have said the truth?

The color I love most in the world

The color that brings me nothing but joy

In this sad, awful little life

Is the green and hazel of your eyes

The emerald diamonds that shine

When you look into the sun

The soft hazel that looks over at me

When we’re reading in the library

How can I tell you all of this 

When the question is so simple and plain

How do I go into such specific detail

About the color I’m in love with

Without freaking you out

Or scaring you away

Or making you laugh at me

Because I know your favorite color 

And I know it’s not the color of my eyes

“You…You think this is really about me?” Dean asked his little brother, hoping Sam was right.

“Dean in all my life I have never seen anyone but you eat a burger bun-side-down,” Sam chuckled a little having read one of the poems Dean had read earlier.

“Oh my god.” Dean furrowed his brows, looking back down at the paper in his hands. “We’ve gotta find her, Sammy, I gotta tell her!”

“Tell her that you went through her stuff while she was gone? Don’t think that’s the best idea.”

“No! Tell her I’m in love with her! Tell her that the color of her eyes is my favorite fucking color too! And every time her favorite band comes on the radio I turn it up, and every time I see a woman wearing her type of clothes I think about her. Tell her that all I do every waking moment of every day is wish I was with her, wish I was holding her in my arms so I could never let go.”

“I think you just told her.” Sam smiled, nodding to where you now stood at your door. Dean turned around quickly. Tears of joy stung your eyes as you looked at him and smiled.

“You love me?” you asked.

“More than anything,” Dean admitted as he hurried to you. He wrapped you in a tight hug, kissing your temple quickly before he tucked your head under his chin. “I’m so glad you’re okay!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call, it’s a long story,” you mumbled. “When vampires ban together with twisted humans, they’re a lot harder to kill.”

“We were really worried about you,” Dean admitted. “Like…fucking terrified.”

“Is that why you decided to dig through my personal shit?” you asked. You were one hundred percent kidding, but Dean was still nervous.

“Yeah…sorry,” Sam cringe-clenched his teeth, “it was my fault.”

You and Dean pulled back from the hug, but you took his hand in yours as you narrowed your gaze at the younger hunter.

“I know your tell, Sammy,” you said. “But it’s sweet that you’re trying to cover for Dean.” 

“Yep, all Dean’s fault,” Sam admitted before heading for the door, giving his brother a pat on the shoulder on his way out. “Good luck.”

“Look, I didn’t mean to invade your privacy, I swear,” Dean told you quickly. “I was looking for something that might tell me where the hell you were.”

“How many did you read?” you asked.

“Three,” Dean sighed, still thinking you were pissed at him.

“So…you know, then? That I’m hopelessly in love with you? And you think I’d be mad at you for looking through my stuff?”

“I mean, I know you value your privacy.”

“Dean,” you started, putting a hand on his cheek and turning his face to look down at you, “would you please just fuckin’ kiss me already?”

He seemed almost surprised by your question but he quickly smiled as he bent down and kissed you. His one hand stayed clasped in yours while his other went to your waist and then trailed to your lower back. The hand you had on his cheek went to the upper back of his neck so you could tangle your fingers in his hair. The smiles on both of your faces only grew before you both pulled away.

“Wow, I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Dean mumbled before he let out a short, breathy laugh.

“Me too,” you replied. 

**

You’d been back home for a few days now and you had explained the whole missing situation to the brothers. You told them how the simple vampire hunt turned sour quickly when you realized the small-town’s sheriff was in on it and helped the vamps with making humans just disappear. They’d made you as a hunter instantly and held you hostage for a few days before you killed your way out. 

Dean never left your side so when he saw a new poem on your desk his brows furrowed. Curiosity got the better of him as he sat down to read it.

My god aren't I lucky

Now that you're holding me at night

And that first time we kissed in the doorway

I could’ve sworn I was kissing pure sunshine 

When your lips hit mine it was better

Then I could’ve ever imagined

And the love poems I've written became

Manifested words of affirmation

The butterflies in my stomach fluttered

And the blood rushed to my head

Think I could stay like this forever

Won't overthink it, I’ll just go and kiss you instead

“Well, well, well.” You came up behind him, and put your hands on his shoulders before you trailed them down and clasped them together over his chest, leaning your chin on his shoulder and kissing his cheek. “Look who’s digging through my shit again.” You smiled against his skin. He turned his head and placed a deep kiss on your lips.

“I’m not even sorry this time, because I think this might be the best thing I’ve ever read.”

“I love you,” you said and kissed him again.

“I love you so fuckin’ much,” he mumbled back.

[grimm-writings]

hi hi it's bard anon again :) i was rereading the manga and remembered that chilchuck's nightmares would be about losing his daughters... could you write about reader going into his dream (like laios did for marcille) and helping him through it? maybe also promising to keep his secret, asking if he's still married, etc. hehe

aisling

…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader

…tags! hurt/comfort, reader is not a half-foot, some descriptions of gore and body horror, CHILCHUCK PSYCHOANALYSIS 🔥 

…wc! 1773

…notes! grimm lore drop, i’m irish! thus the title of this fic is after the as gaeilge word for ‘dream’. enjoooooy <3

You repeat Laios’ instructions in your head as you try to drift off.  Chilchuck’s body is a bit small to make much of a pillow, but at least his warmth distracts you from the worried stares of your peers.

“You probably have to fight through your own nightmare to get to him!”  Laios keeps reassuring you.  “So be on guard!  Remember what I told y–”

“They get it, Laios!” Marcille yanks the tall-man away from where you’re struggling to drift off.  His barrage of information is in good faith, but it isn’t exactly the best white noise to fall asleep to.

Eventually, you find yourself in your dreamscape.  Quickly, quickly, you let your mind run with ideas of how to ‘dig down’ as Laios described it.  Chilchuck is resting underneath you, so the only way to go was in fact down.

The question is… how?

It took a lot of quick-thinking in order to bypass your own personal insecurities (you don’t have the time to dwell on them– Chilchuck is in trouble!) but eventually you imagined a jackhammer drill to make your way down.  You had to admit it wasn’t the most efficient, but it was the first thing you could come up with!

When you land and face another injury on your backside again, you groan, hoping the effects of the nightmare meant your pain wouldn’t carry over into the real world.

You look up, surprised to find yourself in what looks like a cottage.  It would be rather cosy-looking if not for the torn wallpaper, axe thrown into the wall, and blood splattered all over the place.  You could even hear despairing wails of crying echoing through the place…

Hang on.  You try to prick up your ears.  No, it doesn’t sound too distant at all.  You try to navigate your way through the place that was once a loving home.  You take notice of your size in comparison to the door frames and furniture– you’re way too large in comparison.  This is a home of a half-foot.

Was a home of a half-foot you know very well, you realise with your blood running cold.  Entering the next room you found Chilchuck.  He’s on his knees, hands being held in the air and shaking in a way you’ve never seen him before.  He’s horrified.  Over his lap are the heads of three girls, all brutally mutilated and bloodied in ways that made you feel ill.  One girl looks nearly identical to Chilchuck.

You have a suspicion of what’s going on.

What you have to do is protect Chilchuck from the emotional scarring of the nightmare.  How can you do that, when he already has the blood of three people– likely loved ones– on his hands?  You can hear him whispering “why me?” over and over in the shakiest whimper before he chokes mid-sob.

Creeping over without a sound proves difficult as the door creaks loudly.  Chilchuck immediately stops his crying and freezes as he looks up at you.

‘Be encouraging,’ Laios’ words echo in your mind, ‘encourage him to overcome his fear the nightmares are exploiting.’

Easier said than done, as you can hear another presence approaching.  Your footstep must have alerted it.  Chilchuck rises to his feet.

“It’s coming,” he tells you, trying to keep his voice firm and grounded, “but don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

…Oh!  Looks like he’s already well underway trying to fight back against the nightmare!  This will be easy!  You were so chuffed, you almost forgot that usually you aren’t supposed to be recognised in dreams.

Still, you watch as Chilchuck limps to stand in front of you.  He looks… smaller than usual.  Odd.

You tug on Chilchuck’s tunic with an appreciative grin.  “You’re so brave, Chil.  I know you can defeat the intruder!”

“...Yeah.  It’s my job to get you outta this mess, huh?”

An odd thing to say, but you agree nevertheless.  Encourage, encourage, encourage.  “You’ll get us out of here in no time,” you whisper to Chilchuck, rubbing the fabric of his tunic reassuringly.  “I have faith in you.”

He shifts under your touch as you say this.

You glance over at the limp bodies of the three girls.  You wonder what had gotten them so grievously injured.  Their wounds look non-existent save for splashes of blood on their clothes and red running from their lips.  Chilchuck has already been a bit queasy towards gore.  Maybe imagining anything too excessive would be too much for him.

Then, ‘it’ arrives.

It was a twisted amalgamation of flesh and bone.  Its jaw is unhinged, what could either be blood-red lipstick or the bodily fluid itself running from you think are its lips.  Its hair was dark and matted.  It’s just barely shorter than Chilchuck himself, you notice.  It’s like an uncannily recreated half-foot woman.

When it sees Chilchuck, it screams in a woman’s voice, something about how ‘it’s supposed to be date night.’ 

It ran away at the very sight of him.  At the sight of him with you.

What could that mean…?

Once it leaves, Chilchuck collapses again.  He looks up at you, his eyes big and full of terror.  “Is the party okay?  Where are they?!  I need– I need to make sure they don’t–”

He begins crawling over to the door.  The party?  They’re… here?  No, this is probably another aspect of his nightmare.  These girls are here, either dead when he found them, or he watched them get hurt.

Either way, he was too late.

Cogs began to turn.  Could Chilchuck be afraid of… not being able to protect his loved ones from harm?  The cottage was basically turned into a slaughterhouse.  As for the monster…

“Who’s that woman?” you ask.

“I– I think it’s supposed to be my wife,” he explains rather easily.  Maybe the dreams encourage such honesty.  “But it isn’t.  I know it isn’t.  None of this makes sense…”

…His wife? 

No, no, not the time…  Later.

“That’s because it’s a nightmare, Chil…” you try to explain.  “You have to face your fear.”

“My fear?!”  Chilchuck turns to glare at you.  “Sorry for being so naive, but my ‘fear’ is out of my control!  If I’m here, there’s a chance no one will get hurt.  I–I just need to find the rest of you.  I can’t let you be taken away from me because I was being stupid.”

You grab Chilchuck’s wrist to prevent him from limping away into the cottage’s halls.  “Why don’t you… talk to it– I mean, your wife?”

He freezes.  He turns back at you, his glare making his eyebags look heavier.  “Are you insane?”

“She’s your wife.”

Chilchuck swallows.  His wrist slips from your grip so he could intertwine his fingers with you instead.  “There’s too many things I know she’ll ask from me.”

“Like?”

“Like…  Why don’t I come home more often?  Do I love her anymore?”

You squeeze Chilchuck’s hand, rising to your feet.  “Do you?”

“I do.”  He doesn’t hesitate to answer.

“Then tell her.”

Chilchuck deliberates on this for a moment.  He then looks up at you.

“Stay with me,” he requests in the quietest voice, “stay with me as I talk to her.”

Though his words made your chest feel weird, you shake your head.  “This is your job as a husband.  Not anyone else’s.  You can’t protect everyone forever, not even yourself.  Running won’t solve anything.”

Chilchuck is quiet for a few seconds, taking in your words.  He then slowly nods.  “At least walk with me over there.”

“Now that I can do,” you return with a smile.

The floors creak underneath your feet as you journey through the halls.  You can see in the corners of your eye, in the kitchen, a certain dwarf bloodied and kneeling over the sink.  You recognise the body of a spindly tuxedo cat with her arm hanging as she lays on the rafters.  She’s the source of the dripping red onto your clothes.

“I couldn’t protect them, trying to be everywhere at once,” Chilchuck murmurs as you come across an elf strangled with her own hair.

Your eyes lay on the woman feeding on the remains of a tallman and squeeze Chilchuck’s hand.

“It’s okay.  Just talk to her.”

He looks up at you, and you nod.  Chilchuck smiles slightly, and you can see a bit of that spark in his eyes again.  “It… really is a dream that you’re here, y’know?”

You return the smile, and move away.  You’re just out of the room when you hear Chilchuck take a breath and say, “so how about that date night, my love?”

As you walk away, you notice that from the room you left, light seems to be seeping through.  Before you know it, it envelops you.

Suddenly, you’re awake in the dungeon again.  When Laios awoke after saving Marcille, it was very sudden and unpleasant.  Yet this… this was calm, and you feel all fuzzy…

…Oh, but if you could only remember what had happened.  The images are blurry in your mind.  You do remember one thing, at least—

“You’re awake!”  Marcille’s voice is the first to grab your attention, helping you sit up.  “That’s a good sign!”

Laios is there behind you.  “And here’s Chil.  How ya doin’, buddy?”

“Shut it,” Chilchuck’s groggy morning voice is the most relieving thing to hear right now.  Seems you were successful in your mission, even if you can’t remember most of it.

Laios whines a little.  “Don’t be like that!  You had nightmares!  And your hero is right here!”

As Chilchuck sits up and turns to look at you in surprise, you wave back sheepishly.  Laios takes the opportunity to take Chilchuck’s pillow and get rid of the clam-like monsters.

“Oh,” Chilchuck responds with a few blinks.  “I was wondering why my dream was nicer than usual.”

“Oooh, what didja dream about?” Marcille asks nosily.  As she leans her face in, Chilchuck furrows his brow and pushes her away, claiming it’s none of her business.

The answer would be given soon when Senshi takes the opportunity to boil the nightmares.  A cottage scene, and there Chilchuck was, laughing and smiling as he has a candlelit dinner with…

You?

“Enough, enough, enough!” Chilchuck was quick to try and push the pot lid down over the clams in embarrassment.

What?  That’s not how you remember things going.  You squint.  “But I thought you had a…”  You look over at Chilchuck trying to fight back against the questions and accusations being thrown at him from all sides.  

You can’t help but smile a little, flushing a bit pink.  You can keep a secret.

[yuri-is-online]

Episode 9 Thoughts

I actually really liked this episode TᴖT I wasn't expecting much lore or plot building? But this was surprisingly light on filler.

Not Super Spoilery Facts:

Zenji says Romeo comes from "the famous House of Lucci." I made a joke about it, but basing Romeo's family off of the Gucci family actually makes a lot of sense. The Gucci brand is no longer controlled by the Gucci family for a variety of reasons, including financial problems and that murder they recently (?) made a movie about. I think this is really neat and a fantastic idea for his character, there's so much drama you can work with in high fashion and it makes just that much more sense about why he would be mad that he's not in Frostheim. He should be, they're all wearing clothes with his family name on it, but he can't be because he doesn't own the company.

Zenji does watch over Jiro constantly. That's not a super confirmed thing but between his attitude in this Episode and the campus event it's safe to say he probably follows Jiro around as much as he does Haku.

I promise I paid attention to more people than just Zenji (even though the mission never would have succeeded without him, everyone praise best boy NOW). Here let me prove it:

SPOILERS

This is mostly just for me but Romeo's nicknames/his "personal network" he references when calling for help are: Kurossa (Leo), Harry (Haru, wonder if he picked that up from Taiga or Taiga picked it up from him), and Mickey (Rui). I think he probably also considered Kaito one of his "network" because of how much he stalks him but that's just me lol.

Speaking of which lets talk about Kaito for a second. He says he doesn't remember much about the clash "because he was doing his own thing" but the timeline between when Romeo started stalking him and the events of the clash line up perfectly. To me it looks like there are two elements to Romeo's obsession, the first is obviously the pendant but the second... probably still has something to do with the pendant if we are being honest but since everything in the story has to do with the Clash probably that too. There is a piece of blackmail Romeo shows him that Kaito screams about:

My initial thought was that it was a picture of him in his underwear trapped in one of Romi's cages, but we saw that in Episode 4 or something related to his debts and to be fair? That's probably the most likely scenario. Kaito has a gambling problem (call 180-GAMBLING please bby) so there's probably no end to the dirt Romeo has on him. I do wonder if it's a bit more sensitive though but that's just me. Anyway Kaito mentions he never saw Romeo in the Casino until he started chasing him around... which makes me think the likely timeline for Romeo and Taiga's falling out can be placed somewhere around the same time. If they were working together and projecting a united front there would be no need for Romeo to do so much damage control.

That pendant is clearly important, we get a closer look of the insignia on it because Romeo finds a bracelet with the same insignia after he digs up a grave in the cemetery:

To me, this is still not enough detail and I want more but I feel fairly confident in saying this is a Heraldic symbol of some sort. As outlined here the Frostheim ghouls appear to have a sort of chess theme to their names with Kaito being the pawn. In chess pawns can become Queens if it reaches the end of the chess board, which I bring up because the insignia itself, at this point to me, appears to depict an eagle with a crown above it's head. Eagles are symbols of power and the favorite of many real world royal families, as is combining them with crowns to form a royal insignia. I need to do more research before I make concrete claims? But my initial searches have suggested that crowns are only ever used to symbolize royalty or important religious figures, and that eagles are usually double headed. A single headed eagle with a crown has been the symbol of countries like Germany, Austria, and Poland, but this eagle lacks the shield at the center for the first two and the polish eagle actually wears it's crown. I could also be reading waaaaaaay too much into this? But I'd like to think I am being perfectly normal.

Speaking of which we are told in the chapter that the graveyard plays host to "long term foreign residents." The bodies there are not cremated and it is very likely that, assuming Kaito got his pendant from a relative, that Romeo literally dug up and stole from Fuji's great great great grandparent. What a girlboss:

This person has been dead for so long they are only bones, and the only other object in their coffin is the metal bracelet. That's an old ass body, and it doesn't belong to a native Japanese person if we take what Romeo said earlier seriously. This is someone who moved to Japan and maintained enough wealth to be buried with an expensive tombstone. So why no name on the stone and where did they move from?

In less detailed? News Jiro has an extreme reaction to the crying child ghost encountered near the start of the chapter. Specifically he has a reaction to him saying "it hurts." Zenji also reacts to this, he scoops up the boy and takes him away. Later he regrets not attempting to "soothe the boy with a fairy tale." Jiro's memory loss is a side effect "of a certain tragedy that befell him." The timeline of whatever happened to the Kirisaki siblings is vague... but I think it goes something like this:

The brothers make their deal with their demons. They might do this together? Personally I lean towards Zenji doing it first in an effort to do something that will get him and Jiro out of whatever bad situation they are in and Jiro, not wanting to be babied and prove he can take care of himself, does the same thing. The reverse is also possible where Jiro makes his deal and Zenji follows suit because he feels responsible for protecting him, but either way Zenji does or says something he later comes to regret. This causes a rift between the brothers that remains unresolved through the Clash, and makes ghost Zenji reluctant to reveal himself to his brother. I lean towards them being injured around the same time? Either in the same incident or Jiro being injured first and the reason why Zenji was able to stick around. He says he wants to be an illustrious author, but really I think he just wants to make sure Jiro doesn't die. And now he also wants to cure the MC's curse, what a swell fella.

While Jiro clearly doesn't remember Zenji in detail, I don't think his memory is less fried than it first appeared. When MC attempts to get Jiro to go back to the others this happens:

I don't know how this reads in Japanese, but in English it's a really odd sentence. It's a mix up of two common phrases referring to team work: two hearts beating as one + team work makes the dream work. It's a very unique mixed metaphor, and exactly the sort of silly thing Zenji is saying all of the time so if Jiro remembered his brother... he'd probably remember him saying something like that.

... this chapter really did make me scream I'm going to miss Zenji so much.

[pianokantzart]

I just finished Luigi's Mansion 2 and learned some things:

E. Gadd has over 700,000 Toads in his employment and zero secretaries to keep track of any of them (which explains why he sent the toad with chronomentrophobia to watch over a clock factory and forgot that there was more than one toad charged with guarding the artifacts in The Treacherous Mansion.)

I thought that E. Gadd selling King Boo's painting at a garage sale was fanon or lore you had to dig for, but no, the old man straight up sold the king of boos to some stranger over the counter.

High I.Q does not exempt you from stupidity, it seems.

On a similar note, there was no direct dialogue saying that E. Gadd brought on Mario to help fix the dark moon before contacting Luigi. E. Gadd says "I knew I should have gone to you first" at some point, but that could mean anything. ...So it's still possible that King Boo just straight up tracked down Mario and kidnapped him unprompted out of sheer spite.

King Boo is very well acquainted with the fact that contact with certain crystals can boost a ghost's power while slightly altering their appearance. This reinforces my theory that Luigi's Mansion King Boo and mainline King Boo are the same guy.

Apparently, if there's too much paranormal energy running rampant in our dimension, it will collapse in on itself. I think this would make a VERY good crisis to drive the plot of a future Luigi's Mansion game.

Despite E. Gadd's social ineptitude and occasional incompetence, he really does seem to care about Luigi deep down. Heck, I'm willing to bet that Luigi is E. Gadd's only real friend (for good reason tbh but it's still kinda sweet.)

[aaroleswapau]

Do you have any swap!franziska art? Wanna see more of her design

i unfortunately don't have any polished art of her bc i think when i drew this, my swap au hyperfixation was starting to wane, whoops! these are just some very quick sketches of what i wanted her new thing in the swap au to be.

(i will be putting old art of her old design if you want to see it under read more pftt [unfortunately not a lot of them bc i wasn't vibing with the old role i gave her so i wasn't drawing her a lot 😔])

oki doks, now time for a lore dump!!!!! (copy-pasting what i wrote on the bird app a long time ago):

ok, so the thing is, i gave a bit of redd white's role to mvk. my reasoning for that is since he's the one who killed gregory (who has mia's role), he'd have to take on that role too. when characters don't have any like, "exact" foils for their roles to be swapped with, i either make them stay the same or hobble some roles together. mvk's case was the latter.

so mvk runs a private eye that's connected to the prosecutor's office (he's corrupt bc have you seen that guy) and franziska happens to be working there.

mvk also happens to be one the people responsible for covering up the details about mia's death.

i wanted to change franziska's job from my first version of her bc she doesn't really have a connection to the supernatural, so i just gave her a job that works closely in the covering crimes too.

but yeah, fran has to meet gregory, and then she gets framed by redd white

and she's furious about it, of course! that fool works under her father, how dare he put the blame on her!

with how fran is supposedly cooperating with gregory, i think mvk would've really wanted her to catch the fall even with how much he cares about his daughter. he's an 'end justifies the means' kind of guy.

i don't think fran realizes until swap!jfa that it was her father who purposely tried to frame her and the one who ordered to kill gregory.

i think she'd feel really torn by that and the guilt with how miles defended her before knowing all that would've ate her up (the fact that gregory is dead, no spirit channeling or anything makes this more fucked up for them i think agfhhjh)

however, i still haven't figured out why franziska would agree to talk to gregory if he's investigating mia's death, and i'm not quite sure why gregory would've been investigating mia's death in the first place bc unlike mia in the regular verse, he'd have no connections to her case at least

(that would probably require some aai duology knowledge that i do not have right now ASKSKS)

my brain isn't fully working right now so i can't fully ramble on about her design, but i did think it was important to make her dress eccentric; and i know that everyone dresses eccentric in aa, but particularly that one point in turnabout sisters where april may should've remembered maya bc she dressed weird? i wanted the same for franziska ASKSKS roast her old-timey gothic looking ass!!!!!

and from my recent drawing of her, i think if i were to draw like, a polished ref for her, i would like to show the fact that her make-up is severe. again, 'eccentric' or whatever pftt

i originally had her be like a witch, some sort of seer who could communicate with the dead through her crystal ball. scrapped that and changed it bc it was just not digging my dudes asdghd a shame tho bc i'm rather fond of her big-ass veil witch hat thingy

[justmeinadaze]

Created a Monster (Steddie X Kas Y/N)

Every time I hear this song this idea pops into my head but it's not what I'm used to writing per say. I wanted you guys to read like a preview and tell me if this is something you'd want more of or a one shot. Or whatever lol Just some feed back :) It's been sitting in my WIP forever but I can't stop thinking about it.

Warning: Steddie X Kas Fem Reader, mentions of grief and how much the boys miss her, I twisted some things from the show obviously. Instead of Eddie fighting, Y/N does. I also read up a bit on Kas so took some lore there. Not really expanded on in this preview but...

Word Count: 1956

Eddie and Steve stare at your gravestone as the preacher continues to spout some nonsense about young souls being angels on Earth and being called back home. No one understood what they were going through not even their friends they had fought with. You were their everything and now… you were gone. 

Steve and Robin sat in the cafeteria of the hospital picking at their food as they waited for Eddie to join them. For the past four months they had been visiting Max while continuing to be moral support for Lucas. Neither boy would let on how jealous they actually were of the former Hellfire member. At least he could still hold his girlfriend’s hand…see her face…kiss her cheek.

“The doctor’s said she’s showing improvement.”, Robin mused as she took a bite of bland rice in front of her. 

“That’s good. She’s a good kid who’s been through too much. She deserves to have a full life.”

His friend nods in understanding, scanning Steve over before reaching for his hand. 

“This is a stupid question but how are you doing?”

“I’m, um, I’m surviving. Eddie’s trying to keep it together for the guys but we’re both kind of floundering.”, he chuckles as he places his fork down and leans back. “I miss her laugh. Every time Munson would tell a joke, she would close her eyes and scrunch her nose… so cute.”

“Yeah, she was.”, his friend softly murmured. “She loved you two more than anything. Y/N would talk about you both nonstop to an annoying degree.”

When Robin playfully rolls her eyes, they both laugh almost uncontrollably until his gradually shift into sobs. Rising to her feet, she wraps her arms around his shoulders and in turn he does the same, his fingers digging almost painfully into her back. 

“I miss her so much.”

***

When both boys finally made it back home, Eddie silently flopped down on the couch as he grabbed the remote and turned on the tv. Since your passing, the metalhead had moved into the living room since their apartment only had one bedroom. Without you between them they saw no point in sharing anymore. Steve never said anything to contradict but he wished his friend had stayed. Even though they were never intimate in the dynamic, he would have rather shared a bed with his friend than be alone. It was just more of a reminder that you were gone. 

“Another group of men were found dead today outside of their homes, stabbed through the chest, and with nothing stolen or motive perceived from Hawkins PD. We reached out to reinstated Chief Hopper for comment but at this time none was given.”

“Something we should be worried about you think?”, Steve asked as he came up behind his friend to watch the tv.

“I mean, as long as they aren’t blaming me, I’d say no.”

“It doesn’t seem like Vecna either. No broken bones or eyes caved in—” Rising to his feet, Eddie hastily turned off the tv and reached for his jacket. “Eddie—”

“I agree. No Vecna. I’m, um, I’m going to go for a walk.”

“Is this how it’s always going to be?! Are we just going to be awkward around each other now? She wouldn’t have wanted that, Ed.”

A smooth, sarcastic laugh escaped the metalhead’s lips as he turned to face his friend. 

“Yeah? Well, I wanted her here and she’s fucking dead. We both don’t get what we want.”

“So, you’re just going to sully her memory like that?”

“Oh, fuck you, Harrington! She’s the one that ran off even though I told her not to move. She’s the one that decided to fight instead of listening to you and not being a hero. She’s the one who DIED IN MY FUCKING ARMS!” As his voice cracked, he paused to collect himself. “Y/N’s gone. She doesn’t get a say anymore.”

With that he turned on his heels and slammed the door. 

“He’s always been really hot headed hasn’t he?”, the vision of you giggles as you kick your feet against the counter. 

Steve never told anyone for fear of coming off as insane but this is how he processed you no longer being around; he pretended you weren’t gone.

“Yeah, just like you.”

“Excuse me! I was stubborn but not ‘hot headed’, jerk.”

His head hung at the word “was” as his bottom lip began to tremble. Jumping off the counter, you slide over till you were just inches from his side. Even though you weren’t really there, he swore he could smell you.

“Steve, baby, look at me. He’ll be ok… you both will.”

Shaking his head, he wiped the tears that had begun to fall but when he moved his hands away the image of you disappeared. 

“I love you, honey. I miss you so much.”

############

Eddie pulled his hood over his head as he powerwalked in what he thought was no particular direction. Even after being exonerated people still scowled and hurled insults his way. The ones that hurt him the most were the ones about you. 

Because they couldn’t bring your body back, it was assumed you had died with everyone else. Your family still held on to hope but in the worst way. You parents used to love him and Steve, treating them both like family but after Chrissy’s death everything shifted. They told you to stay away from him and in turn you told them to fuck off. 

Anytime they saw Eddie, they begged him to tell them where you were or where your body was so they could properly grieve. He ignored them as best he could but it killed him because he knew the truth. That’s something he and Nancy could connect on. Every time she told him about her experiences with Barb it comforted him to an extent. He hoped one day he could give them peace like her friend’s parents got. 

Stumbling over his feet, the metalhead finally took note of his surroundings realizing he had walked to Hawkins Cemetery. Sighing heavily, he gave in and let his feet continue to lead him till he was in front of your plot. 

“Y/N Y/L/N. 1986. Loving Friend, Daughter, and Girlfriend.” 

“Fucking basic shit. You were way more than that.”, he grumbled as he took a seat facing your stone. 

“I’m angry with you; so fucking angry. I told you to go up the rope but you insisted I go so I could catch you like Steve had. I should have known better. How could you do that? How could you leave us like that?!”

“I didn’t do it by choice.”, the vision of you replied in a sad but calm tone as you sat on top of your own stone. Eddie’s jaw tightened as he looked in the opposite direction. “Still ignoring me?”

“You’re not real.”

“True…but it helps Steve. At least that’s what you hope after hearing him talk out loud to me the other night. He really hates being alone, you know? He wants to talk to you but—”

“I can’t talk about you with people. Not yet.”

“Ok, then don’t talk about me. Maybe talk about D&D or Steve’s day. Anything else. Eddie, just because I’m gone doesn’t mean you two stop being friends.”

“Don’t preach to me, babe. I don’t want to hear it.”

“What do you want to hear?”

“Nothing. That’s all I ever fucking hear now. I don’t hear your stories about work or your family. I don’t hear you laughing at my jokes or your sarcasm when you’re making fun of Steve for his lack of movie knowledge. I don’t hear your fucking breath in the middle of the night when you’re sleeping or see you bite your lip when you’re thinking about something complicated. I don’t feel your fingers in my hair when I’m lying on the floor listening to music or your lips against mine. Why, Y/N? Because you’re fucking DEAD!”

The vision of you watched with sympathetic eyes as his shoulders shook and he sobbed in his hands. After a few minutes, he wiped his nose on his sleeve, finding you sitting cross legged in front of him with your knees inches from his own. 

“I don’t know how to live without you, sweetheart.”

“Eddie… I never loved anyone on this planet as much as I loved you and Steve. If it meant keeping you both safe…I would die again.”

“It was our job to protect you.”

“And you did such an amazing job.”

Shaking his head, he glanced towards a tree in the distance before turning your way to find you gone. 

“I love you, baby.”

################

Steve’s eyes snap open at the sound of glass breaking before quickly grabbing his bat and slowly stalking to the kitchen. 

“Jesus Christ!”

“I just go by Eddie but…” They both exasperatedly laughed as the other boy lowered his weapon. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you or anything. I just left the cemetery and I didn’t realize it was so fucking late.”

“Did, um, were you going to see her?”

He could have responded sarcastically but your words lingered in his mind. 

“Yeah… I just needed to hash some things out with her.”

“I know how you feel. Sometimes I get really angry at her to but then I get confused because I don’t know what to do with that.”

“Yeah.”, Eddie laughs as well. “Fuck, this sucks.”

As his friend nodded, a shadow on the wall caught the former jocks attention. It looked like a figure but that can’t be right because they were on the fourth floor of their complex. Just as he began to glance to find out what it was, their window shattered causing both men to fall to the ground and cover their heads. 

Steve recovered first, swiftly grabbing his bat and blocking the weapon that begun to swing down towards the metalhead. To his surprise it did stop it but as soon as he pushed the figure back, the bat cut cleanly in half. It took him a few seconds to realize the stranger in front of him was wielding a sword causing him to duck out of the way as the person continued swinging it at him. 

While trying to find something to defend himself with, he heard Eddie call his name and turned just in time to see him slide another sword his way. 

“Isn’t this fake?!”

“Please! We’re nerds! Do you think Y/N and I would buy anything fake!?”

Just as Steve unsheathed the weapon, it clinked loudly against the strangers. Both beings went toe to toe with the pretty boy surprising even himself. He got too cocky, however, lowering his guard just enough for the figure to punch his chest knocking the wind out of him as he fell to the floor. 

The armor the figure was wearing loudly tapped against each other as they stepped forwards and pointed their weapon at Steve’s throat. With wide eyes, he watched as the person took off their helmet and casually tossed it to the ground as their hair fell around their face.

“Y/N?”

The boy whined as you tilted the sharp weapon up towards his chin causing him to stretch his face out of the way. 

“My master sends his regards.”, you hiss as you step back and raise your sword. 

Before you can do anything, something hard collides with your head and you faint to the ground.

“Ok, I’m not dreaming right? Or hallucinating?”, Eddie asked as he reached for Steve’s hand to help him off the ground. 

“No, dude. At least I don’t think so…”

[ka2ki2]

Chrysos Heirs

people who play both hi3 and hsr are WINNING rn

anyway. i've determined likely flamechaser parallels for a majority of the chrysos heirs. most of them do not actually look like their flamechaser counterparts, which makes me think they're not direct expies but merely parallels.

I also sprinkled some minor analysis of what little lore we have on these guys. Amphoreus is massively inspired by greek mythology.

watch this before reading!

Aglaea = Eden (both associated with gold)

Eden owned the Elysian Realm previously, but at that time it was called the Golden Courtyard

Eden is also called the Bearer of the Gold Signet

Aglaea is called the Goldweaver

You're not going to believe this-- Aglaea is named after the Charis called Aglaea.

The mythological Aglaea basically runs errands for Aphrodite, which would explain why HSR Aglaea bears the Coreflame of Romance.

HSR Aglaea is from the city of Okhema. In greek thought (plato I think?), Okhema is an intermediary between the body and the soul. I did as much research as I could and the best I could figure out is "it carries the soul through rebirth". SORRY IF THAT'S WRONG-

HSR Aglaea has the "divine authority of mnestia". After lots of research, I think mnestia can be loosely translated to Remembrance, so perhaps that's the Amphorean way of saying she's a pathstrider of Remembrance?

Aglaea's drip marketing references the myth of Prometheus, where Prometheus stole fire from the gods and returned/gave it to humanity.

Tribbie = Vill-V (multiple 'selves')

Tribbie is called the "three-faced messenger"

We see Tribbie adopt multiple personas in the video. She can even take multiple forms at once

Vill-V has partitioned her personality into 8 different segments

Anaxa = Su (both associated with knowledge/enlightenment)

Anaxa is said to have "enough knowledge to refute faith, and to stir up a torrent capable of slaying gods."

Su is called the Enlightened of Bodhi, Enlightened One, and other similar titles.

These two have lots of physical similarity

Anaxa's namesake has some interesting connections with Nous actually

Hyacine = Griseo (both Asleep)

In the video, when Hyacine is on-screen it says "let the sky become the slumbering cot from which she wakes".

Due to the 8th Honkai Eruption, Griseo fell into a deep sleep.

Could be named after Hyacinthus

Mydei = Kalpas (fire in battle)

In the video, Mydei is seen in a post-battle poise surrounded by fire.

Kalpas is constantly surrounded by fire during battle.

Both characters constantly seek out fighting/strife.

Mydei is likely related to the greek god Deimos

One of the unnamed people has a mask too though, but these guys are too similar in aesthetic and personality

Cipher = Pardofelis (...come on.)

Cat girls.

Same eye and hair color

Castorice = Aponia? (butterfly theming)

Castorice is pictured with butterflies both in the video and in the twitter art. These butterflies look highly similar to the butterfly motif in Aponia's design

Aponia is very strongly associated with butterflies. Her dress is patterned like one and she has butterfly wings in her ult

Both seem to have devastating levels of power

IDK about the greek origins for this one. Castor? Kratos (who is actually a child of the Styx)?

Phainon = Kevin (deliverance)

Yeah they're both related to deliverance. They literally outright said deliverance in the video, and Kevin bears the Deliverance Signet.

Also they look EXACTLY THE SAME

Also both seem to be the 'leader'

In mythology, Phainon is the star of Cronus/Saturn (cuz they thought saturn was a star)

Cyrene = Elysia (...COME ON.)

They look identical and have almost the exact same personality

i have yet to figure out the two unnamed ones, Hysilens, and Cerydra. nor can i find their name origins... the closest i found, after ages of digging, is this for Hysilens

the remaining flame-chasers are Kosma, Sakura, Fu Hua, and Mobius. only one of the unknown people seems to be male ("unknown 2"), so that one's probably Kosma.

And yeah that's the culmination of me losing my mind for the past 6 hours. lucky you, you didn't have to watch me try and fail to decipher what the 12 titans might be connected to. (greek titans, 12 olympians, and HSR aeons all didn't line up easily waaaaaa)

here's the failed attempt to figure out the aeons if anyone else gets ideas from this

OK thanks for reading. normally I post my loredumps in discord servers with my friends. this is my first time posting it anywhere abfiushdliueh

[cryptidcorners]

Josh Futturman x Reader Headcanons

= Character: Josh Futturman

= Media: Show!Future Man

= Prompt: N/A

= Description: Just !Platonic & !Romantic mixed Headcanons!

= Request: N/A

= Tags: Fluff ! Headcanons, Shy/Awkward Josh, Romantic + Platonic, Established Relationship, Some Comfort + Reader is !GN

= Warnings: None.

= Please Read my INTRO before interacting !

Josh has always struggled to maintain relationships, including ones with friends. Not only because he's incredibly socially awkward, but his escapism within videogames plays a major factor. So, he treasures what he has with you much more seriously than anyone you knew.

Rambles about his games all the time. His interests are something you can never get him to shut up about. Josh is usually into strategies, lore & development, his favorite being "Biowars", which you already knew had quite the reputation for being a challenging videogame.

He's pretty bubbly, especially around you. Josh is an absolute sweetheart and will get flustered at almost anything. His childish personality roots out much more when you're around, mostly because Josh feels more comfortable.

He isn't very open about his feelings, mostly because he's afraid of losing people. Josh desperately wants to be a part of something and refuses to mess it up somehow. Josh, however, is very different when you're opening up. He'll advise, comfort and try to cheer you up. (It's actually crazy how good his advice is sometimes.)

Josh is content with following you anywhere, as long as it doesn't involve his house or hear his parents. If I'm going to be honest, if he's particularly choosing somewhere to lounge, it'd be an arcade. It's a field where he specializes in and he can impress you easily. It's also somewhere he can discard his low self-esteem and indulge in his skills.

Praise is like a drug to Josh. Compliments or any sight of you liking him (or what he's doing), he feels intense dopamine. He really enjoys making people happy.

He's pretty charismatic sometimes, even when he's not trying to be. Josh is usually awkward when directly talking to somebody with a set question or goal in mind, but when he needs to go with the flow, it's much more grounded. With you in mind, Josh is much more relaxed, so he isn't as shy as he is with strangers.

Wouldn't exactly say he's very affectionate, but he wouldn't mind hugging either. Again, Josh is pretty awkward, and I doubt he rarely showcases soft intimacy around anyone (whenever it's platonic or romantic). He would love to do it, but he's very shy. Though, he isn't afraid to try. If you ask, he's perfectly fine with holding your hand or sitting close.

As I mentioned, Josh is very tentative on affection, especially receiving it, but he loves getting his hair and face touched. Dude needs love.

Digs through your trash. He doesn't have any ill intents, but Josh will take time out of his day to scavenge through waste instead of asking you a minor question. I know I mentioned he's very relaxed around you, but Josh definitely overthinks, especially with relationships. He tries his best.

Will cry real tears of joy if you ever give him something. Josh really appreciates gifts, no matter who it's from. Even if it's not game related, he's definitely holding onto it for a while. (Bonus Points If: It's an animal toy, a decoration or handmade.)

Romantically speaking, he enjoys kissing you or indulging in anything sweet. A lot of giggling & sweet talk. Josh isn't very experienced in relationships like this, so he tried to wing it. Needless to say, he probably gets advice from Google images and it's adorable to see him try his best to impress you.

Will always defend you, even if he fails miserably. Absolute trooper.

Josh will one hundred percent get emotional at any piece of film he is watching with you. Especially if it's a game cutscenes and it involves animals.

Huge softie. I don't think Josh can handle saying anything remotely mean to you or reviving it. If he does, expect a flood of apologies.

Can get way into character sometimes, whatever context this is. You know what I'm talking about.

Very clingy. No other words.

Lastly, he'd definitely call you nicknames in the cutest way possible. If he lets you call him "Joshy", you've probably earned the highest pillar of his trust.

[cno-inbminor]

repertum

plot: no matter how much you want alhaitham, you don’t think you can ever have him. he may or may not try to prove otherwise // ft. lumine and nahida 

warnings: afab!reader, 3.4 spoilers, smut but reader and alhaitham get blue balled, angst, fluff and comfort later. probably some incorrect game lore and timing/mechanics.

a/n: :)))))

EDIT: Part 2 (FINAL) | AO3 Link

-

“I don’t–” You rush out before your breath hitches. “-- think this is a good idea, ah–”

Alhaitham keeps you pinned to the wall of your apartment, pelvis undulating against yours in an erratic beat. He drinks in every gasp that leaves your pretty little mouth, the same lips that have haunted his passing thoughts for the past month. His fingers dig into your waist and he leaves subcutaneous blooming sore spots on your shoulder and collarbone, relishing in your hisses of pain and pleasure, if the grip you have around his neck is any indicator.

Your words send a spike of adrenaline – he vehemently denies the possibility it may be fear instead – through his veins, to do anything to keep you right where he wants you, and he gives into the primal urge to dig his teeth into the very shoulder he’s been nibbling and sucking onto for the last ten minutes. The resulting yelp from you keeps him sated, and he places a soft kiss where he’d bitten you; a stark contrast.

Alhaitham lifts his head to look into your eyes, pupils swallowing over your irises and your eyelids half-open. He takes pride in having been able to push you towards such a state of inhibitions. “And what would make you think such a thing?” His lips ask against yours, tone dark with an alarming amount of clarity that you find absolutely unfair and unjust.

Despite his protests, there are several reasons why this isn’t a good idea. To be a scholar and also involved with the Akademiya’s former scribe? You’re practically begging to be academically slaughtered by the masses, as everyone knows Alhaitham has the ears of the General Mahamatra and, at times, Lord Kusanali herself. It goes both ways – having always been regarded as the level-headed, purely rational individual, most would agree that his current actions are the complete opposite. Those traits themselves are a recipe for disaster – sure, you could be witty and hold your own, but it was clear to you that you could not give him what he needs, he neither for you.

The sexual tension between you two is palpable. You briefly remember the day you first exchanged words with the man right before his new promotion. Both of you had reached for the same textbook one early, early morning, and being that it was the only copy in the entire library, you were determined to get your hands on it.

“I believe my hand was here first,” you said in a matter-of-fact tone. Part of you was screaming at yourself for even thinking about going against Alhaitham in any way, but this research paper is due next week and you will not let anyone hinder your progress. “I can give it to you when I’m done with it.”

Annoyance with a hint of amusement had crossed his features as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, the action drawing your gaze. The man had always been a great distance from you, but now seeing him up close, you can understand why some of the other scholars made it a point to mention just how attractive this man was. The brains, brawn, and looks all in a single individual? The archons were quite unfair, if you had anything to say about it.

“I believe the scholars understand they should not hinder any work of mine. It would be best for me to take it, and I will return it once I no longer need it.”

You wanted to wipe the smugness of his face. With a kiss or with a book thrown at him, you don’t care to differentiate – but the confidence he exuded was starting to irritate you, and you ignore the beginnings of an unwanted heat swirling in your core. “Well if the Scribe would so kindly lend it to me, I only need it for the next 36 hours and it will be all yours afterward. Surely your work can wait for that long?”

He took a step towards you to level with your impertinent gaze. Part of you thought you had had the higher ground, granted you were standing on a step ladder so you could reach the book, but you then saw that even with the extra centimeters, you were simply at about the same height as the man. Again, unfair.

“What is your name?” He interrogated.

“What is it to you?” You snapped back. If he really wanted to, he could demand to see your student identification credentials. But part of him wanted to hold back, to watch you bend to his will.

“I may consider granting you your wish if I can learn of your identity.”

The look of surprise on your face had been the beginning of his downfall. Normally the other scholars would have cowered beneath his presence by now. Yet the little spurts of fight from you had elicited some excitement from within, a feeling he hadn’t felt in quite a bit of time. Such emotions were for the weak for they clouded one’s judgment and logic.

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I will take this and, once again, will return it when I am done with it.”

He outstretched his hand to lay his claim on the book’s spine, fingers pressing gently against yours that were still adamant in your pursuit. Both of you made it a point to ignore how the touch made goosebumps form on your arm, thankfully hidden underneath your clothes. The Akademiya’s Scribe knowing you by name never boded well, but it was 2AM and you were perhaps too desperate.

In a state of unfounded confidence and irrationality, your fingers moved to intertwine with his. Watching his jawline slack the slightest bit fueled you, and you dragged your hands off the shelf and pressed them against his chest. With it, you leaned into the bounds of his personal space, using everything you had left in you to keep his eyes on you. Perhaps his pupils had become dilated, you can’t remember at this point, but it was enough distraction for you to use your other hand to snatch the book from its confines between other hardcovers. Once acquired, you disentangled from his grasp and took hurried steps off the step-ladder, clutching the book to your chest. You backpedaled some decimeters away to create some much needed distance. Alhaitham seemed stunned into silence. Or perhaps he was plotting your murder.

“(Y/N).”

And before you disappeared around the corner, he called out to warn, “I will see you in 36 hours.”

For many weeks afterwards, he made it a point to alert you of his presence whenever you were in the Akademiya’s building. If you were furiously annotating notes from multiple annals spread across your table, he would saunter by and subtly brush his cape against your clothes. If you were simply reading for pleasure, a knee pulled up into your chest because fuck Akademiya propriety, he would make sure to sit at the table across yours and in a chair on the side facing you head on. Did he let himself stare at you too much, finding some enjoyment in watching your facial expressions as you read? Perhaps. If it was late at night and you looked incredibly stressed, he would invite himself to look over your shoulder and observe your information, only to point out some details and offer tidbits of advice. Sometimes you found yourself in deep, research-heavy conversations and got a taste of Alhaitham’s inner workings, which only made you want more.

Tonight after a big project, he invited you to a drink at Lambad’s Tavern, though it was under the guise of needing some help bringing food back for his roommate afterwards, and you were going there anyway. Tucked in the corner, you, aided by alcohol, had let your inhibitions fall. You would need to be passed out to not feel the heat and weight of his gaze on you for the entire night, and you found yourself reveling in it. Yet it didn’t make sense – why would he find an interest in you, out of all the people within Sumeru? Alhaitham could have his pick of anyone, yet he decided to put his eggs in a basket with your name and face on it.

The thoughts stewed inside, even as he made a nonchalant offer to walk you to your apartment. “It is late, and you have no means to defend yourself.” That had been the end of it as he walked towards the path leading to the outskirts of the city, and you had no choice but to follow. At your doorstep, underneath a waning gibbous and cloudy skies, Alhaitham’s body language communicated his hesitancy in leaving you alone for the night, and with a swallow, you had invited him in for a cup of coffee.

He gave a nod. The door clicked shut. And as soon as your eyes with hints of lust met his, he made his move – surging forward to pull you into a kiss, and then spinning to press you against the wall with his thighs slotted between yours. The faint, yet unbridled moan for just mere kisses made his chest swell, and he swiped his tongue against your bottom lip.

“It’s just not – Haitham – a good idea,” you pant, thoughts back in the present moment.

“I disagree,” he retaliates, pulling back to remove your shirt. The rate of his disappearing self-control only increases when he does everything to commit this moment to memory. You’re so beautiful, he laments, torn between wanting to maintain the sanctity of your figure and forcing you to succumb and accept his attempts to claim you. He wants you to feel his kisses and bites for days, so you would never forget and inevitably crave his touch.

You don’t want to argue with him now, not when you finally have him in your hands. Your lips desperately meet his again as you unclip your bra and shrug it off. He follows suit and undoes his cape so he can pull his sleeveless shirt over his head, groaning when he pulls you close and his bare skin takes in the heat emanating from yours. Feeling your hardened nipples slide against his pectorals should not be so alluring, yet he finds himself wishing you two could stay in bed for eternity, naked and entwined and drunk on each others’ touch.

Fingers dig into his silver-gray locks and tugs, to which he answers with a punishing nip on your neck. “Bedroom,” you plead so prettily and he can only let you draw back to lead the way. He wastes little time in pressing forward until the back of your legs hit the bed frame, causing you to fall back. From mere kisses and heavy petting, the look on your face is already so sinful, and Alhaitham can’t help but imagine how you’d look once his cock was inside you.

“You siren and minx,” he sighs in faux displeasure, planting gentle pecks down your chest and abdomen until he hovers over the band of your pants. He tugs them and your underwear down with the aid of your lifted hips – and doesn’t miss the glossy thread of your slick from your vulva to the damp cotton. When it eventually breaks, he feels twinges of regret for not being able to catch it on his tongue and have a taste of you, like a man dying of thirst in the desert.

His hands have a firm grip underneath your thighs and pushes them towards your chest. Alhaitham curses when he has the full view of your pussy, puffy and wet and demanding any attention. “Haitham, please,” and you sound like you’re on the verge of tears.

“Hmm?” His voice teases as his fingers spread and his thumbs are so, so close to where you want them to be. Your pitiful cry is answered with– “Use your words. You surely have never had a problem with that.”

You beat a fist against his chest in retaliation, though there is little to no force behind it. The pathetic attempt at communicating your embarrassment is not lost on you.

Yet despite the heated blood in your veins, the near desperation to climb this high, your heart stills at the smirk sitting devilishly on his lips. You suddenly become hyperaware of every part of your body that he is seeing and touching, and the rational part of your brain returns once more to remind you, again, that this is not going to end well.

In the years that Alhaitham has roamed and trudged through the hierarchy and floors of the Akademiya, everybody knows he is not one for intimate relationships, whether it be deeper friendships or romantic partnerships. So for him to spend his precious free time with an ordinary scholar such as you, no legacy or prestige to your name – it made no sense. You are more than ready to understand that if this night were to run its due course, the end result would be the same if it were to never happen.

The dread that settles into Alhaitham’s body is murky and viscous as he watches sobering clarity fill your system, most noticeably in your eyes. Irises expanding, pupils shrinking, the life and spark from earlier swept away, don’t make much sense to him as you gently remove yourself from his grasp. “Y/N?” He inquires with some of the most uncertainty he’s felt in the last ten or so years. Adrenaline dissolves into veiled panic as he watches you slip on a new pair of underwear and an oversized sleep shirt.

“I’m sorry, I’m not feeling too well,” you supply in a meek voice, looking around and eventually finding his shirt from earlier. The man appears as dumbfounded as he can behind such a blank and austere face such as his, pulling the material back over his head and looping his arms through in a trance. He doesn’t remember following after you but finds himself back in your living room where his cloak had been haphazardly thrown onto the ground. With the way you slide it over his shoulders and make no mistake in securing it properly, he feels as if ice cold water has been dumped over his head.

And then you’re both at the front door and all he knows in this precise moment is that he really, really doesn’t want to leave.

“Thank you again for the drink,” you say, voice cracking near the end and gaze avoiding his at all costs. “You didn’t have to.”

Alhaitham chooses to say nothing, and despite how much the inner turmoil is wrecking your nervous system, you know this is for the best.

Right?

“Did I do anything wrong?”

Yes. No. Of course. Not at all. Maybe.

“No, I just don’t feel well. Maybe the alcohol isn’t agreeing with me.”

At the same time you twist the doorknob and pull, you stand on your tiptoes to plant a shaky kiss against his cheek.

“Goodnight, Alhaitham.”

It’s clear that he’s being banished now, door wide and a clear signal for him to leave. While he may want to slam the door back closed and demand all the answers he needs to the sudden change in your behavior, he simply nods and steps over the threshold, pausing when he fully steps into the hallway. The man doesn’t have the gall to face you straight on, but he lets you take one last look at his side profile, eyes glancing briefly over his shoulder.

“Have a better lie next time.”

This is for the best, you repeat to yourself minutes later when you’re curled underneath your blankets.Your breath shudders as the tears begin to stain your pillowcase, and before you slip into a fitful slumber, you worry about what dreams will greet you.

-

Alhaitham doesn’t see you for a whole week.

For seven agonizing days, 108 frustration-ridden hours, you are nowhere to be found or seen, as if you decided to hole up in your apartment and never leave your own self-made prison. It’s embarrassing, to a certain degree, just how much he’s been around the library, constantly on the lookout for your figure. Kaveh caught him reading the same page of a history book for at least ten minutes on one of those days, but chose to keep his mouth shut for once and snarky remarks to himself.

On day 8, Alhaitham wonders if he’s begun to hallucinate when he sees you in plain view at the market stand, attempting to barter with the owner to get a better deal on some vegetables. But it’s your voice he hears, your hands he sees, your hair that makes his fingers twitch in a thinly-veiled hidden desire to run them through. He’s left standing in the middle of the street looking like an idiot, yet others perceive his heavy gaze upon your figure to assume that you’re about to get into some trouble and the General Mahamatra was calling in a favor of some sorts.

On day 11, he catches you running up the pathway that leads to the Sanctuary of Surasthana, which is bewildering and confusing in its entirety. What business do you have being anywhere near the residence of Lord Kusanali? Even he as the former Scribe, favored and the most unwilling Acting Grand Sage, and one of the saviors of the Dendro Archon, has not been there since the whole hubbub died down, and it’s been months.

On day 14, you run into the traveler who seems to be making her rounds of saying goodbye to various citizens. Alhaitham had spoken a number of times about her and her travels and you knew her next destination was Fontaine. Not far from home, but far enough away to rid yourself of all these ugly, human emotions and get over this huge crush on the aforementioned man. With unfounded confidence, you call for her attention with shaky breaths.

“Can I help you?” She questions softly, not missing the clear distress in your body.

“My name is Y/N and, um, I’m a scholar at the Akademiya. Though I guess my attire gave that away,” you laugh nervously, gesturing to said clothing. “I’m, uh, an acquaintance, I guess, of Haitham’s? Anyways, that’s not really important, but you’re going to Fontaine, right?”

Lumine nods and stays silent.

Well, here goes nothing. “This might sound really weird but…can I come with you?”

Perfect, golden eyebrows rise in surprise – it’s not everyday a mere stranger so brazenly asks to travel with her, especially to another nation.

“I have some research that is taking me there, but I’d prefer not to travel alone. I was going to leave soon, but just now when I heard you telling people goodbye, I thought I’d try to ask? I’ll pay for your help, and I can even help you find and cook food! Hopefully you don’t find a Vision-less person like me a burden but I promise I won’t get in the way.”

Lumine looks you up and down once more while her thoughts process. You look harmless and it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have another set of hands along the way. Fontaine really wasn’t that far away once they crossed the border. It was becoming clearer to her that you truly did need to get to Fontaine, and not just for research. Perhaps –

“Could it be that you’re running from something?” She asks with curiosity.

“...wow, nothing really gets past you. It’s more like…someone,” you confess, sheepish and embarrassed.

“Are you in danger?”

“Not at all, no!” With hands waving in front of you, you speak with clear denial. “I’m trying to figure some things out and, well, I’d rather do it when I’m not constantly at risk of bumping into him.”

“Clearly I don’t know the details of your situation but…wouldn’t it be better to just be honest with him?”

You take a glance in the direction of the Akademiya and allow a bittersweet smile to grace your lips. “I think my honesty would simply be a burden for him.”

“And you know that because…?”

“Because he is that kind of man. There is no need for him to have a place for me in his heart. But I’m really bringing the mood down – could you please consider my offer? I forgot to mention I can be quite handy with a dagger if need be.”

Lumine and Paimon exchange a look, the fairy shrugging. “We leave tomorrow at first light,” the traveler speaks up. “Is that enough time for you to gather everything you need? If not, as long as we leave by midday, we don’t mind waiting.”

Perfect.

“It’s more than enough time. I pack light anyways.”

“We’ll meet in front of the Sanctuary then. Paimon and I need to meet with Lord Kusanali before we depart.”

You barely get any sleep that night, a ball of nerves and excitement. Your neighbor has been kind enough to hold your spare key to check in on your apartment every once in a while, waving you off when you begin to discuss forms of repayment for their generosity. The last time you ventured out of the main city and its surrounding areas was perhaps a few years ago to get a look at the famed Palace of Alcazarzaray. Alhaitham had briefly spoken of Kaveh a few times, though his tone was an odd amalgamation of genuine respect and scathing admonishment. In fact, you met the architect once when he came to the Akademiya to ask (more like loudly demand) for a copy of their house key. That was one of your first deep dives into how much of a teasing asshole Alhaitham could be, and you had already been spending most of your hours with him.

Fontaine has only ever been presented to you in sketches and paintings, so for a chance to see it in person…you can’t wait.

When your alarm goes off, you practically jump out of bed, throwing on your travel attire that you had set out the night before. With your research materials in a bag and travel essentials in another, you give one last look at your apartment. Who knows when you’ll be back?

[partycatty]

so i made a post about revenant johnny and i’m totally aware you saw it so what about a smut fic with revenant johnny??

i’m not entirely sure how we’d get to that part and i’d like to think we aren’t a revenant. im not entirely sure what the plot would be but i really just need to get my back blown out by revenant johnny

love ya 💙💙

EAYRBAUHRJAJFLAMTLMSMF

revenant!older!johnny cage > join me

revenant johnny meets you after his turning. the carnal desire never vanished.

warnings: kinda angsty, not explicitly consented to, you get SLAMMED TO POUND TOWN AND BACK. NETHERREALM AND BACK. OUTWORLD AND B— oh also lore adjustment to mk9 and mk11 :3

[ masterlist ]

you didn't think recent events could get any weirder, truly. just five years prior you lost the love of your life to a corrupted sindel, and with the knowledge that his cursed corpse sauntered beside a sorcerer such as quan chi, you honestly felt like coming face to face with a younger version of yourself was the most normal thing to occur. your job as a leader of the special forces was to capture and eliminate all threats to earthrealm, including but not limited to your former husband.

now under the command of a previous timeline's raiden among others, you had built enough of an army to counterattack what you lovingly called the zombified versions of your once-friends, liu kang and kitana. kronika was a force beyond your understanding but you knew that losing all you'd come to build would be a loss greater than... well, no. it was everything you'd lose.

at the bow of kharon's ship, you stood with a loaded rifle alongside a band of people you'd grown to admire; jax, jacqui, cassie, raiden, liu kang, kitana, kung lao, fujin, nightwolf, and of course a younger version of johnny. he nudges your side, aiming his own rifle at the sky with a hand on his hip.

"i hope we don't die out there, i'd love to tap that someday," he coos into your direction, perhaps louder than intended and earning horrified looks from everyone - including your fatherless daughter. you stomp on johnny's foot. perhaps you would have fallen for his charms in the past, but dear god was he more punchable than ever in that moment. even still, you miss his quips and jabs. what you wouldn't give to see the color return to his cracked, hellish skin.

"it is an honor to fight alongside most of you," you call out, facing forward as your subtle dig at younger johnny makes him frown. "raiden says it better. may the elder gods protect us."

it's not long before the large boat scrapes against the shore of the island, and your entire army charges into battle. guns, swords, and fangs spill so much blood, you could smell more iron than when you were riding down the crimson sea. your thoughts are cut short when a path opens, and you shoot a glance to your comrades.

"i see an opening!" you shout, pointing. "i'm going in!" a chorus of encouragements and cheers fill your ears atop the war cries, and the one that stands out most is cassie. your daughter's voice raises, slipping into grief mid-battle.

"if you find dad," she cries, praying to the gods that she won't lose both parents. "tell him i love him!" the knowledge that this battle will end in only one of you making it out alive terrifies her beyond belief but she does all she can to keep a strong face and salute you as you disappear in the crowd. cassie knows that a revenant version of johnny wouldn't fully understand, wouldn't fully accept her love, but she couldn't die or have him die without expressing it one last time.

you weave, shoot and slash through the crowd and end up in a castle-like structure. perhaps if you were to rise to the top you could use the position as surveillance or sniping. you could possibly even find a weak point. the building is just distant enough for the war to hardly reach the inside. your breathing and the sound of boots hitting stone are all you could focus on as you turn a corner.

blood rushes to your ears and you could feel your vision become glassy at the sight of the figure at the end of the hallway. even after all this time, you knew that shape. johnny stood in the dead center of the long hall, arms crossed and waiting like he predicted your arrival. maybe he did.

"no, nonono," you pant, leaning against the wall as your brows furrow. "not you. not now." the grief you thought you conquered washes over you.

"well i'll be damned," johnny smirks, pulling his sunglasses from his face and tucking them into his shirt. "long time no see, sugar." he takes long strides to you and your legs feel embarrassingly weak when you slide to the ground, gun clattering to the stone surface alongside you.

"anyone but you—" you're muttering under your breath, trying to ground your spiraling thoughts. "please."

johnny's in front of you now, kneeling down to meet your gaze. his skin is paled and crackling with a hellish glow, and his eyes are a heinous reddish shade. the outfit he wore was similar in style to his usual, but darker in palette and slightly edgier. in any other context, it was a good look.

"you look just as good as the day i left you," he grins, dismissing your grief and turmoil for flirtation. you want to fight back so bad, to shove him away and put an end to this but dammit it was the first time you'd heard that voice, that damn voice.

"why did you leave me? cassie?" you're involuntarily sobbing now, full of conflict. "why are you doing this?"

"you're the one causing this entire problem," johnny's defensive, jabbing a finger to your chest. "kronika's new era can save us. neither of us join the military. can you imagine it? white picket fence, two dogs and a daughter, home cooked meals every night and none of this bullshit—!" johnny's arm extends out to a nearby window, giving you both a view of the demon-human-demigod war on time. "—baby. join me. we could have everything we've ever dreamed of." his tone isn't as desperate and loving as it should be. it sounded... pushy. frustrated that you're disobeying what he wants.

"no," you choke out, tears flowing freely now. "you're being played a fool, johnny." he doesn't like your answer, and instead wraps a large hand around your small neck. he slides you back up the wall and spins you, your front now pressed up against a wall.

"you know what i'd miss more than your stubbornness?" he growls into your ear. his hand pressing hold on the back of your head is brewing a headache that quickly fizzles away when his other hand tugs your hips toward his front. you swallow, afraid to reply. "this sweet ass."

his cold, dead hand plays with the fat of your ass which spills a growl from his lips. instinctively rutting into you makes you spill an involuntary whimper out, craving his touch after so long.

"always a pain in my ass," johnny groans, slapping a cheek and watching it bounce. "i've gone years without it, i was practically losing my damn mind."

"johnny—" you barely breathe out. you're not entirely sure what you were going to say anyway. the warmth of his hardness shocks you as it slides up and down your clothed ass.

"mm?" he hums, transfixed on the way your behind fits his cock nicely. it was clear he wasn't fully listening and instead relishing in your presence once again.

as if he could read your thoughts, johnny chuckles to himself and kicks the rifle away, only stopping his humping momentarily to remove your defenses. your legs slightly part to try and catch the gun with your foot, accidentally giving him more access to your embarrassingly needy cunt.

"yeah, fuckin' speechless," he growls, hissing at the sight of your soaked bottoms. "bet you missed my cock, yeah?"

you could hardly even whimper from the onslaught of emotion. johnny's hand snakes to the front of your neck, forcibly arching your back as he pulls to lean into your ear.

"join me," he demands coldly.

"no."

johnny's hand dips under your waistband.

"join me," he demands again, tone getting progressively more animalistic as he tugs downward.

"no."

your pants are practically torn off as he grabs a fistful and tugs them to your knees with his mind-numbing strength. you weren't sure if he ripped your panties or tugged them off too. you hear something unbuckle on his end, and his hot, wet tip tickles your entrance.

"last chance." even though his hand returned to shove you into the stone wall, you could hear his cocky grin.

"go fuck yourself," you spit, realizing your grave choice of wording.

"i'll do you one better." he slams his entire cock inside of you, and it immediately settles into your walls like it was made to bury itself there for all of eternity. even still, going without dick that good leaves your pussy burning and on the verge of crying for other reasons.

he bottoms out quick, leaning back to admire how nicely he settles inside of you.

"well fuck, look at that," he says with genuine amusement in his tone. "you look so pretty stretched out on me like this, it's a sight for sore eyes."

your fingers claw at the stone, eyes rolling back as you take his full length without verbal complaint. as you pathetically attempt to protest, all you can sputter out are disconnected syllables. johnny's thrusts start off slow but he snaps into you as he reaches the base inches.

"all this whining but you're fuckin' soaked," he laughs, snapping into you harshly to hear you cry out. "you're a horrible liar, you know. you wanna join me, i can f — haah —" his own cocky nonsense is cut short when you clench around him. he lurches forward in shock, moving both hands to your hips to deepen his grip. "i can feel how tight you are for me."

in little to no time, johnny's cock is pounding into you at a breakneck pace, a horrid slapping sound echoing off of the castle walls as they mix with your obscene moans and his deep grunts. you're sure he's piling more unholy words into you but they feel so far away when he's plowing into you like a dying man — well.

his cracked, grey fingers grope you shamelessly, pinching your nipple through your uniform or rubbing rapid circles into your clit. the pleasure is too much too quickly and you feel a warmth pooling in your stomach as your juices coat his shaft.

a gasp escapes your lips with each thrust, your husband quite literally knocking the wind out of you each time he slams into you.

"i missed you," he purrs out, and just like that all hesitation and guilt you had flew away as his words made you cum hard. a glimpse of his humanity poured through at your orgasm, and while it was flattering, you had bigger problems to worry about then, including just how hard you came.

each wave of pleasure was met with an extra thrust for good measure, a pulse shooting to your clit that makes your knees buckle. what you quickly realize however is that your zombie husband isn't done with your body quite yet.

"oh, no no no," he tuts, thrusts getting wilder and filling you to the point of tears. "you're done when i'm done. this is what you get."

your sensitive walls continued to shamefully take every inch he forced into you, and you could writhe and twitch as a drop of drool spills from your lip. this revenant was fucking you stupid, using your body for all it was worth in the moment. you hated yourself for falling for his undead charm all over again. your vision was going black and starry before another orgasm rode up on you again, johnny's back shots doing nothing to soothe the overstimulation that was racking your body. it's not long before he's whining too, which turns into his signature whimpering when he fucks into you harshly, spewing his cum inside of you like he owns you. you cum with him this time, flooding with your own juice mixed with his cum that now coated your walls nicely.

tears still burned in your eyes, and so did your pussy from the unexpected stretch. johnny panted above you, face turned up at the ceiling as he tries to compose himself.

"holy..." he pants, wiping the sweat from his face with his arm. he wraps an arm around you and slaps at your bare pussy, making you yelp and jump back against his dick that's still buried inside. you swallow thickly and nod, too hazy to make sense of it all.

"i..." what the hell were you going to say? what is there to say after all of this? you're dumbfounded, fucked silly but torn apart by grief. as you crane your neck to look at johnny, you find that he's already looking at you with a coy expression. like he robbed you of something. tore your very being apart piece by piece and was proud.

"hope you're not mad at me for the whole dying thing, by the way."