#they have to take in mana to survive | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dreamersworldduh · 28 days ago

Note

Is requests still open? If yes, can you make a Hal Jordan x M!Reader where the reader is also the member of the JL (It decided by you his powers), and Hal is casually admiring him then eventually asked to go on a date with him with a touch of smut on the end.

Sorry if I may ask for too much, please. Just take your time!! And also, love your fics!! ^^

SECRET ADMIRER

• HAL JORDAN x MALE READER

SUMMARY — Hal Jordan never expected to fall this hard. What started as playful admiration of Y/N's extraordinary power and effortless grace on the battlefield quickly turned into something more. From flirtatious banter during Justice League missions to an unforgettable first date, Hal found himself drawn deeper into Y/N's orbit. Their chemistry was undeniable, their connection effortless, and soon, one night together turned into something more—something real.

WARNING! 18+ MDNI. Suggestive Langauge. Violence. Swearing.

WORDS! 9.6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE! Sorry about the delay, but I have fallen for Nathan Scott and I have been writing about him for a bit, daydreaming but don’t worry I’m checking back into reality. Anywho, enjoy your reading✨🫶🏽

The battlefield was a maelstrom of destruction, a chaotic symphony of clashing energies, monstrous war cries, and the distant rumble of collapsing structures. Hal Jordan stood at the heart of it, his emerald-clad form unwavering as he scanned the battlefield. His sharp green eyes locked onto Y/N, a mixture of admiration and intrigue flickering within them. He had witnessed countless warriors, battled cosmic titans, and stood against the wrath of gods, yet something about Y/N was... different.

Y/N stood amidst the chaos like a beacon of untamed power, an enigma of both human resilience and Anodite supremacy. He was neither fully mortal nor fully ethereal, yet he commanded the raw, boundless energies of the universe as though they were an extension of his own will. His body shimmered with an aura of undiluted mana, a luminous cascade shifting seamlessly between hues of deep violet, iridescent indigo, and brilliant silver. The very air around him pulsed and crackled with an intensity that made the fabric of reality quiver in his presence, as if space itself bent in deference to his power.

As the enemy forces—grotesque, otherworldly invaders from the farthest reaches of space—swarmed forward in a frenzied wave, their monstrous forms blotting out the light, Y/N barely flinched. His fingers twitched, a faint glow igniting at his fingertips before flaring into a blinding, celestial blaze. Without a single wasted motion, he raised a hand, and the energy obeyed like an extension of his soul.

A tidal wave of unfiltered mana erupted from his palm, cascading forward with an elegance that bordered on divine. It surged across the battlefield, a radiant force of destruction and beauty, sweeping through the advancing horde like a cleansing fire. The invaders were obliterated on contact, their forms dissolving into nothingness, leaving only the lingering echoes of their existence in the wind. For a fleeting moment, silence fell over the battlefield, the only illumination coming from the ethereal afterglow of Y/N's unleashed might.

Hal exhaled, leaning against a floating construct of his own creation—a luminous green platform, solid yet weightless under his touch. His arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable as he studied Y/N. Unlike most warriors, who fought with grit, rage, or desperation, Y/N wielded his power with an effortless grace. Every movement was precise, deliberate, as if he were composing an intricate symphony rather than engaging in a battle for survival.

It was mesmerizing.

"You make this look easy," Hal finally remarked, his smirk barely concealing the awe in his voice. The glow of his power ring flickered against the radiant light of Y/N's swirling mana, two forces of unimaginable power coexisting in perfect contrast—one forged by will, the other by sheer, unrelenting magic.

Y/N turned slightly, his eyes gleaming like distant stars, depths of wisdom and unspoken power lurking beneath their gaze. The energy coursing around him swirled and coiled like a living entity, responding to his presence, attuned to his every thought. There was something both intimidating and fascinating about the way he carried himself—unshaken, assured, as if he had long since come to terms with the enormity of his existence.

"It helps when you're part Anodite," he quipped, his voice laced with quiet amusement. There was a knowing smirk on his lips, one that spoke of experience beyond years, of a power so deeply ingrained in his being that it was as natural as breathing.

Hal chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "Remind me not to get on your bad side."

But even as he spoke, his gaze lingered on Y/N, unable to pull away. It wasn't just the power, the elegance, or even the sheer destructive force Y/N wielded with such ease. It was something deeper—an essence, an unknowable brilliance that set him apart from anything Hal had ever encountered.

Y/N wasn't just strong.

He was something else entirely. A force that defied classification, a being that could tilt the scales of any battle with the flick of his wrist. And for the first time in a long, long while, Hal Jordan—Green Lantern of Sector 2814, a man who had faced the unimaginable—found himself in awe.

The battle was far from over, but as the next wave of enemies charged forward, Hal wasn't just thinking about victory anymore.

He was thinking about the sheer, terrifying, and extraordinary force that fought beside him.

Y/N moved like a celestial force given form, his presence exuding a raw, mesmerizing energy that bent reality itself. Each flick of his wrist sent dazzling arcs of mana cascading through the battlefield, tearing through the monstrous invaders with unrelenting precision. Their grotesque forms barely had time to register their destruction before they disintegrated into motes of nothingness, consumed by the sheer potency of his attacks.

Hal had encountered countless warriors, beings of immense power that could shake the cosmos with a thought—but Y/N? He was something else entirely. There was a seamless, almost artistic grace to the way he fought, as if the battlefield was his canvas and magic his brush. His every movement was controlled, deliberate, and yet carried an air of effortless mastery that Hal couldn't tear his eyes away from. And if he was being completely honest with himself, the way those pulses of glowing mana outlined Y/N's well-toned physique certainly didn't go unnoticed.

His admiring gaze was rudely interrupted by the sudden crackle of static in his earpiece, followed by a low, gravelly voice that carried every ounce of irritation one would expect.

"Jordan. Get your eyes off Y/N's ass and focus on taking down the creature."

Hal blinked, momentarily startled before a slow, amused smirk curled across his lips. He barely turned his head, still watching as Y/N dodged a hulking beast's attack with an effortless backflip, mana swirling around him in hypnotic waves. The smirk only grew.

"C'mon, Bats," Hal drawled lazily, leaning further into his construct as if he were watching an entertaining performance rather than an all-out war. "You're monitoring from the Watchtower. Don't tell me you're not at least a little impressed."

"That's not the point," Batman snapped, his tone carrying that signature mix of exasperation and barely restrained irritation. "The creature is still standing. Quit gawking and do your job."

Hal hummed noncommittally, but his attention was already drawn back to Y/N, who was currently dismantling another wave of enemies with almost casual ease. His luminous mana pulsed in rhythmic bursts, glowing embers of violet and silver lingering in the air like celestial dust. It was hypnotic—the way his body twisted and turned, dodging incoming attacks with liquid fluidity before retaliating with breathtaking precision.

With a knowing smirk, Hal finally responded, "Nah, Bats. He's got it under control."

On the other end, there was an audible sharp exhale, followed by what Hal could only assume was Batman pinching the bridge of his nose in sheer frustration.

Unbothered, Hal simply crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly as he continued his very important task of 'monitoring' Y/N. The way he fought—every movement sharp, yet fluid, exuding confidence in every strike—was damn near hypnotic.

"Man," Hal murmured to himself, ignoring the chaos still unfolding around him, "it's like watching a damn fireworks show. A really attractive one."

"I swear to god, Jordan—"

Hal, still grinning, cut the comm line before Batman could finish his impending threat. With the Dark Knight suitably ignored, Hal returned his full attention to the spectacle before him. After all, why interfere when perfection was at work?

The battlefield lay in eerie silence, the aftermath of battle lingering like the final notes of a war song. The once-roaring chaos had settled into an almost reverent stillness, the only remnants of the monstrous foe now nothing more than drifting embers of dissolved energy. The air remained thick with the scent of scorched earth, metallic ozone, and the residual charge of magic that had been unleashed moments prior. Wisps of violet and silver mana still crackled in the air like spectral fireflies, drawn toward Y/N's fingertips before dissipating into the void.

Y/N exhaled slowly, lowering his hand as the last flickers of power receded beneath his skin. His breathing was controlled, steady—though there was no denying the sheer force he had just wielded. His presence alone radiated energy, a quiet yet commanding force of nature.

From above, Hal Jordan let out a low, appreciative whistle, cutting through the tension like a blade. He remained casually perched against one of his glowing emerald constructs, arms crossed, his ever-present smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Well," he drawled, "if that wasn't the most graceful ass-kicking I've ever seen, I don't know what is."

Y/N turned slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in mild amusement. "You could've helped, you know."

Hal pushed off his construct, activating his ring once more as he floated down beside Y/N, his green aura casting a soft glow against the residual shimmer of mana in the air. "Oh, trust me, I was helping." He grinned, gesturing toward himself with mock grandeur. "Moral support, expert-level commentary, and, most importantly, making sure you looked damn good while doing all the work. Arguably the most important job out here."

Y/N rolled his eyes, but there was no real annoyance in the motion. "Right. Sure, Jordan."

Hal chuckled, but there was something else in the way he looked at Y/N now—a lingering glint in his eye, something just beneath the surface that he wasn't quite ready to name.

With the battle won and the city below now secured, the two of them lifted effortlessly into the sky, breaking through the upper atmosphere with practiced ease. The world fell away behind them, fading into the vast stretch of space. Up here, beyond the chaos and destruction, the universe stretched infinitely before them, stars glimmering like scattered diamonds against the endless black. It was quiet, the kind of quiet that only existed in the void—heavy, yet peaceful.

Hal flew alongside Y/N, hands resting behind his head in a seemingly relaxed pose, though his gaze kept flicking toward him every so often. The glow of Y/N's mana still pulsed faintly around him, a subtle luminescence that made his features stand out against the cold backdrop of space. Hal felt something tighten in his chest—not in fear, not in unease, but something else. Something unfamiliar. He had seen power before. He had seen warriors, legends, gods. And yet, there was something about Y/N—his presence, his confidence, the way he carried himself like he belonged among the stars themselves—that made Hal pause.

He wasn't sure what it was. And frankly, he wasn't sure he wanted to analyze it too deeply just yet.

Instead, he opted for what he did best—charming, casual, and just a little reckless.

"So," Hal began, tilting his head slightly as he turned toward Y/N, "I was thinking... We've saved the world, kicked some serious ass, and probably made Bats roll his eyes so hard he's given himself a migraine." He paused, purely for dramatic effect, watching the faint curiosity spark in Y/N's expression before continuing, "Seems to me like we deserve a reward."

Y/N arched an eyebrow, smirking slightly. "And what exactly do you have in mind?"

Hal's grin widened, though there was something genuine behind it—something just a little less playful, a little less deflective. He shrugged, floating just a little closer. "Dinner. You, me, somewhere nice—preferably a place where we're not getting shot at, blasted, or dealing with some intergalactic nightmare." He raised an eyebrow. "What do you say?"

Y/N regarded him for a moment, as if considering, weighing the offer like one would a well-placed bet. Then, with a soft chuckle, he nodded. "Alright, Jordan. You're on."

Hal couldn't stop the surge of satisfaction that spread through him at those words. He wasn't entirely sure what this was—just a bit of fun, or maybe something more—but whatever it was, he was more than willing to find out.

As the Watchtower loomed in the distance, the stars reflecting in their eyes, Hal found himself looking forward to whatever came next.

As Y/N and Hal Jordan descended onto the Watchtower's pristine metallic flooring, the soft hum of their energy dissipated into the hushed stillness of the station. The docking bay, illuminated by the ambient glow of reinforced LED panels, stretched before them in sleek, futuristic elegance. Beyond the Watchtower's expansive windows, Earth hung suspended in the void—a breathtaking sphere of blue and white, small yet vibrant against the backdrop of infinite darkness. It was the kind of sight that could make anyone pause, that could remind even the most seasoned heroes of the beauty of the world they fought to protect.

But Hal Jordan was preoccupied with something far more intriguing.

"Well," Hal declared, rolling his shoulders with a lazy grin, "I'd say that was a hell of a team-up. We saved the day, looked damn good doing it, and—most importantly—I managed to score a date. All in all, not bad for a day's work."

Y/N chuckled, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his slightly tousled hair, a few errant strands still wild from the intensity of battle. "I don't know if I'd call it a 'team-up,' considering you spent most of the fight standing around and watching."

Hal gasped in mock offense, placing a hand over his chest as if wounded. "Hey now, I was tactically observing. You were putting on a whole damn light show out there—I didn't wanna interrupt the magic."

Y/N smirked but didn't press the argument. Instead, he stretched slightly, rolling out his shoulders before exhaling. "Right. Well, I'm gonna go wash up. See you later, Jordan."

With that, he turned on his heel and strode toward the locker rooms, the faint glow of residual mana still crackling in the air around him like distant static. Hal, however, remained standing where he was, hands on his hips, watching Y/N disappear down the corridor. A slow, smug smile crept onto his face.

Yeah. Today had been a very good day.

Without wasting another second, Hal pivoted and made his way toward the common area. He knew exactly who he needed to find.

As expected, Barry Allen was there, comfortably leaned back at one of the sleek, high-tech lounge tables, flipping through a stack of mission reports at super-speed. His fingers blurred as he rapidly scanned through the data, his mind processing information at an incomprehensible rate. Hal, of course, had absolutely zero interest in mission reports.

Clapping his hands together, he announced his arrival with the energy of someone who had just won the lottery.

"Barry, my guy," Hal drawled, dragging out the words as he strolled up with the confidence of a man who had just conquered Mount Olympus itself. "Guess who just landed himself a date with the most ridiculously powerful, unfairly attractive half-human, half-Anodite badass?"

Barry didn't even look up. "Please tell me it's not you."

"It is me."

Barry groaned audibly, finally setting the reports down before giving Hal a long, suffering stare. "Why do you sound so proud? You annoyed that poor guy into dating you, didn't you?"

Hal scoffed, placing a hand on his chest. "Absolutely not. It was pure charisma. Natural charm. Irresistible good looks."

Barry blinked once. "So, annoyance got you the date. Got it."

Before Hal could retaliate with a rebuttal, a much deeper, far more unimpressed voice cut through the air like a blade.

"Jordan."

Hal tensed slightly. He knew that voice. He also knew exactly how much trouble he was probably about to be in.

Turning slowly, he found Batman standing in the corner, arms crossed, the dark folds of his cape making him look as immovable as a statue. His glare was sharp, unwavering—silent, yet speaking volumes.

Hal coughed, attempting to school his expression into something casual. "Uh, hey there, Bats. You hear the good news?"

Batman's glare did not waver. "Yes. And I also heard you spent more time admiring Y/N than actually contributing to the fight."

Barry, who had previously been exasperated, suddenly perked up with an eager grin. "Oh, this I gotta hear."

Hal held up both hands in defense, his ring pulsing faintly as he gestured wildly. "Okay, first off—not true. I was supervising. Second, Y/N had everything under control. And third—" He smirked. "Can you blame me? The guy is a walking celestial light show with the body of a damn Greek statue."

Batman exhaled through his nose in what could only be described as the long-suffering sigh of a man trying very, very hard not to commit murder. "You're impossible."

Hal's grin widened. "And yet, completely lovable."

Batman turned sharply on his heel and walked away, his cape billowing in a dramatic flourish. He didn't say another word, but the tense way he carried himself screamed frustration.

Barry, meanwhile, had officially lost it. His laughter echoed through the room, full of unrestrained amusement. "Oh, man. I cannot wait to see how this date turns out."

Hal plopped down in the seat across from him, still grinning like he had just won a bet. "Trust me, Barry—neither can I."

The entrance of Celesté, one of Coast City's most renowned fine dining establishments, gleamed under the warm glow of golden chandeliers. The faint clink of crystal glasses and the soft murmur of refined conversation drifted through the air, punctuated by the lilting notes of a grand piano nestled in the corner. Everything about the place exuded elegance—from the impeccably dressed waitstaff to the delicate flicker of candlelight reflecting off polished silverware.

And standing at the entrance, adjusting the cuffs of his sleek black tuxedo, was Hal—a man who, under normal circumstances, would rather be in his flight suit or his Green Lantern uniform. Dressing up wasn't exactly his thing, but tonight? Tonight was different.

Tonight, he had a date with Y/N, and there was no way in hell he was half-assing it.

Despite his usual easy confidence, Hal found himself rolling his shoulders as if shaking off an invisible tension. It wasn't nerves, not really—he didn't do nerves—but there was an anticipation buzzing beneath his skin, a restless kind of excitement that had nothing to do with the mission reports he had totally ignored earlier that day.

He checked his watch, lips twitching into a smirk. Any second now.

And then—like the universe had been waiting for the perfect moment—Y/N stepped through the restaurant doors.

And Hal's breath? Yeah, it hitched.

The shift in the atmosphere was almost palpable. Y/N carried himself with an effortless confidence that commanded attention, but it was the way the tailored suit hugged his frame that made the whole thing downright unfair. The smooth, high-end fabric moved with him, accentuating sharp lines and quiet power, each stride filled with the kind of grace that couldn't be taught.

His hair was styled—refined enough to suit the occasion, but still holding just enough of that untamed edge to remind Hal exactly who he was dealing with. And that? That was dangerous.

For a moment, Hal just stared.

Holy. Hell.

Y/N's gaze swept across the restaurant before locking onto Hal, and just like that, Hal snapped out of it, forcing his signature cocky smirk back into place as if his brain hadn't short-circuited seconds earlier. He squared his shoulders, exuding every bit of the cool, effortless charm he was known for.

Showtime.

"Well, well," Hal drawled as Y/N came to a stop in front of him, his tone smooth, but his eyes shamelessly lingering for just a second longer than necessary. "I was already looking forward to tonight, but man—you just made my entire week."

Y/N let out a low chuckle, his lips curving into something amused, and Hal felt a flicker of satisfaction at the sound. "That so?"

Hal gestured with an exaggerated sweep of his hand. "I mean, look at you. That suit? Criminally good. You clean up ridiculously well, and frankly, I think it's kinda unfair to the rest of us."

Y/N arched an eyebrow, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Coming from the guy who looks like he just walked off the cover of GQ?"

Hal's grin widened, preening just a little as he straightened his tie. "What can I say? I had to step up my game for you."

For a fleeting second, something flickered in Y/N's eyes—something warm, something genuine. It wasn't just amusement anymore; it was appreciation, maybe even something fond.

And that? That was a win.

Y/N exhaled softly, his voice smooth as he said, "Well, you did a good job."

Hal's grin turned just a little smug as he extended an arm in an exaggerated gentlemanly fashion. "Shall we?"

Y/N rolled his eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it. Instead, he took the offered arm, the warmth of his touch settling against Hal's suit sleeve, and together, they stepped further into the restaurant.

The golden candlelight flickered around them, the hushed ambiance of the room embracing them in an atmosphere of something undeniably electric.

And in that moment, as Hal walked beside the most ridiculously powerful, unfairly attractive, and completely intriguing person he had ever met—he knew one thing for certain.

This? This was already shaping up to be one hell of a night.

The soft hum of conversation wove through the elegant restaurant like a well-rehearsed symphony, mingling with the delicate clinking of silverware against fine china. The warm glow of flickering candlelight bathed the room in an intimate ambiance, its golden hues casting elongated shadows along the crisp white tablecloths. The air was rich with the tantalizing aroma of expertly crafted dishes, each plate an artful display of culinary mastery.

At the center of it all, seated at a secluded table near the window, were Hal Jordan and Y/N.

For once, they weren't warriors, they weren't heroes locked in battle—they were simply two people, enjoying the company of the other. No cosmic threats loomed over them, no urgent mission awaited. Just this moment, unburdened and uninterrupted.

Hal leaned back in his chair, his broad shoulders easing into the plush seat as he lazily swirled the deep red wine in his glass. The crimson liquid caught the candlelight, casting rippling reflections onto the table's surface. Gone was his usual cocky bravado—the one he wielded like a second skin in the field. Instead, he had settled into something more relaxed, the version of himself that only surfaced when there was no need to impress—not that he needed to.

After all, Y/N had already agreed to this date.

Across from him, Y/N looked effortlessly composed, his well-tailored suit somehow still pristine despite the long evening. Yet, there was something warm in the way he chuckled at Hal's last remark, amusement flickering in his eyes.

"So let me get this straight," Y/N said, setting his fork down with a smirk. "You crashed a fighter jet on purpose just to prove a point?"

Hal grinned, holding up a finger. "Technically, I landed it in a way that looked like a crash. Huge difference."

Y/N shook his head, his smirk deepening. "And your superiors just... let that slide?"

"Nah, they were too impressed I actually pulled it off." Hal leaned forward slightly, voice dropping into a smooth, conspiratorial tone. "Besides, I've always been good at getting out of trouble."

Y/N hummed, lifting his glass to his lips before taking a slow sip. "More like good at getting into trouble."

Hal laughed, tipping his glass toward him in a mock toast. "Fair enough." He set it down, resting his elbow on the table as his gaze softened with curiosity. "Alright, enough about me. I know what you're like in the field—calm, collected, freakishly powerful—but outside of the whole 'saving the world' thing, what's your deal? What do you do when you're not making Batman twitch with stress?"

Y/N smirked, clearly enjoying the question. "You mean when I'm not dealing with you flirting in the middle of a fight?"

Hal placed a hand over his heart, gasping dramatically. "Hey, I multi-task."

Y/N chuckled, leaning back slightly as he considered the question. "Honestly? I like the quiet. I spend so much time surrounded by chaos that when I finally get the chance, I just want to be somewhere peaceful. Reading, stargazing, finding those little moments where I don't have to be 'on' all the time."

Hal studied him, intrigued. "Huh. So you're the 'find peace in the little things' type?"

Y/N nodded slightly, twirling his glass absently between his fingers. "Something like that." He tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. "What about you? When you're not flying around with that power ring, what does Hal Jordan do to unwind?"

Hal smirked. "Besides annoying Batman?"

"Besides annoying Batman."

"Well," Hal tapped his fingers against the table, as if contemplating, before shrugging. "I like fast cars, good drinks, and making bad decisions in Vegas—sometimes all at the same time."

Y/N chuckled. "Somehow, that doesn't surprise me."

Hal grinned but then, after a pause, his smirk faded just slightly. He hesitated for a fraction of a second before finally adding, "But when I actually want to relax?" His fingers traced the rim of his wine glass before he admitted, "Flying."

Y/N lifted a curious brow.

"Not with the ring," Hal clarified. "Just flying. When I was a kid, my dad used to take me up in his jet, and ever since then, being in the air just... calms me down." He exhaled, a rare glimpse of sincerity slipping through. "It's the one place where it's just me, the sky, and nothing else. No responsibilities, no pressure, just freedom."

Y/N watched him carefully, his expression softening ever so slightly. "That actually makes a lot of sense."

Hal arched a brow, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Oh yeah?"

Y/N offered a small smile. "Yeah. You spend so much of your time fighting for everyone else. Guess it's only fair you have something that's just yours."

For a second, Hal blinked.

He was used to the banter, to the playful teasing, to keeping everything light—but this? This was understanding.

And it threw him off guard.

For a brief moment, neither of them spoke. But the silence wasn't awkward—it was comfortable, filled with unspoken words neither of them felt the need to voice. The candle between them flickered gently, its golden glow dancing along their features as a soft piano melody drifted in the background.

Then, because Hal Jordan had never been one to let a moment linger too long, he leaned back and grinned.

"Well, damn," he mused, flashing a charming smirk. "I was just trying to impress you with my whole 'deep, brooding pilot' side, but you actually went and got all insightful on me."

Y/N chuckled, shaking his head. "Don't worry, Jordan. You're still just as ridiculous as ever."

Hal smirked, lifting his glass. "And yet, here you are. On a date with me."

Y/N rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched into something fond as he clinked his glass against Hal's.

"Guess I must like ridiculous."

And just like that, Hal felt that same victorious spark again—but this time, it wasn't about the chase, or the flirtation, or the thrill of the moment.

This time, it was real.

And for once?

He wasn't in any rush to figure it out.

The city had settled into a quiet, comfortable rhythm, its usual chaos giving way to something far more tranquil. The distant hum of traffic blended seamlessly with the muffled sounds of laughter from late-night diners and the occasional honk of a car horn. A cool breeze drifted lazily through the streets, carrying the faint scent of rain-soaked pavement—a reminder of the earlier downpour that had long since dried beneath the glow of neon lights and streetlamps.

Beneath that glow, Hal Jordan and Y/N walked side by side, their pace unhurried, their footsteps in sync as they navigated the quiet streets.

Hal had long since abandoned the last remnants of his formal composure—his tie loosened, tuxedo jacket slung over his shoulder, and hands tucked casually into his pockets. The evening had gone better than even he had expected. Dinner had been incredible, conversation never dulled, and there was an undeniable energy lingering between them, something that had been simmering beneath the surface all night.

And Hal? He was in no hurry to let the night end just yet.

"You cannot tell me," Hal said, nudging Y/N's shoulder with a smirk, "that a guy like you doesn't have a list of crazy fan encounters."

Y/N shot him a questioning glance, amused.

Hal gestured broadly. "I mean, c'mon—you're a walking celestial light show. Someone's definitely tried to propose to you mid-battle before."

Y/N let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "Surprisingly, no. Though I did have someone try to start a cult around me once. That was... an experience."

Hal stumbled slightly, stopping in his tracks as he turned to gawk at Y/N. "A cult? Oh, now you have to tell me that story."

Y/N smirked, ever the enigma. "Maybe another time."

Hal groaned dramatically. "You're killing me here."

Their laughter softened, gradually fading into something quieter, something unspoken. The warm glow of the streetlights bathed them in golden hues as they reached the entrance of Y/N's apartment building. The polished glass doors reflected the city behind them, the moment suspended in time, as if the universe itself wasn't quite ready to let them go their separate ways.

They slowed to a stop, the space between them small, but charged.

Y/N slipped his hands into his pockets, glancing toward the doors before looking back at Hal. "Well... guess this is my stop."

Hal nodded, rocking back on his heels slightly. "Yeah... damn, and here I was, hoping this street just kept going forever."

Y/N's lips curved into a smirk. "Smooth, Jordan."

Hal flashed his most roguish grin. "I try." But there was something softer in his eyes now, something far more genuine than his usual bravado.

For a beat, Y/N just watched him, as if studying something about him he hadn't quite figured out yet. Then, without warning, he leaned in and placed a quick, teasing kiss against Hal's cheek.

"There," Y/N murmured as he pulled back, his voice laced with amusement. "Consider that your reward for not being too obnoxious tonight."

Hal froze for half a second, his brain short-circuiting before he blinked and turned to look at Y/N, a mixture of amusement and disbelief crossing his face. "Oh, that's dirty. You're really just gonna do that and walk away?"

Y/N tilted his head, pretending to think it over. And then—before Hal could process it—Y/N closed the distance again.

This time, it wasn't just a tease.

This time, it was a kiss—real, deliberate, and slow enough to make time itself hesitate.

It wasn't rushed, wasn't hesitant. It was confident. Certain. Like Y/N had decided something, and this was how he wanted Hal to know.

Hal barely had time to react before instinct took over—his fingers twitching with the urge to grab Y/N's waist, to pull him in, to deepen it. The city, the streetlights, the night itself—all of it faded into the background noise as Hal let himself get lost in it, in the feel of Y/N's lips against his, in the quiet intensity that had been simmering between them all night.

And then, too soon, Y/N pulled back, a smug little smirk tugging at his lips as he watched Hal try to process what just happened.

Hal blinked. Once. Twice.

Then, slowly, his lips stretched into a grin—one that was equal parts impressed and thoroughly wrecked.

"Okay..." Hal exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair as if to ground himself. "Yeah. Way better than the cheek kiss."

Y/N chuckled, his voice smooth. "Glad you approve."

Hal licked his lips absently, still feeling the ghost of the kiss there. "So, uh... where does that leave us?"

Y/N's smirk deepened just slightly as he reached for the door handle, pausing just long enough to glance at Hal with something undeniable in his gaze.

"It leaves us with you coming upstairs with me."

Hal blinked, then arched a brow, his grin widening. "Oh."

Y/N simply shrugged, but there was something teasing in his expression, something that said he knew exactly what he was doing. "Unless you'd rather go home and spend the rest of the night thinking about that kiss instead."

Hal let out a breath of laughter, shaking his head. "Nope. Absolutely not."

With that, Y/N pushed the door open, stepping inside with effortless ease, tilting his head slightly in a silent invitation.

And without hesitation, Hal followed.

The moment Y/N and Hal stepped inside the apartment, the door had barely clicked shut before Hal was on him. With a swift motion, he pressed Y/N back against the nearest wall, his body a solid, warm presence against him. The tension that had been simmering all night—through lingering glances, teasing words, and unspoken promises—snapped like a live wire, igniting something urgent, electric, inevitable.

Hal's hands found Y/N's waist, fingers pressing just firm enough to pull him in, as if closing the last inch of space between them was the only thing that mattered. Their lips crashed together in a kiss that was hungry, heated, laced with both impatience and purpose.

Y/N smirked against Hal's lips before flipping their positions in a blur of motion, suddenly pressing Hal back against the wall instead. The shift was seamless, a silent challenge exchanged between them.

"Eager, are we?" Y/N murmured, his breath warm against Hal's mouth, teasing, yet laced with something undeniably predatory.

Hal chuckled, the sound low and rough, his smirk never faltering. "You invited me up." His hands skimmed along Y/N's waist, palming the sharp lines of his hips before giving a light, suggestive squeeze. "What'd you think was gonna happen?"

Instead of answering, Y/N claimed his mouth again—but this time, the kiss was slower, deeper, dripping with something intoxicatingly deliberate. His fingers worked on the last bit of Hal's already loosened tie, pulling it free with practiced ease before his hands slid downward, working at the buttons of Hal's dress shirt.

Hal responded in kind, his own hands already tugging at Y/N's suit jacket, sliding it off broad shoulders and letting it pool onto the floor. Their movements were urgent, desperate, a battle of dominance wrapped in heated friction, neither wanting to slow down.

Somehow, in between kisses, between touches, Y/N guided Hal backward down the dimly lit hallway, their lips barely separating, their hands mapping every inch of exposed skin as they impatiently shed layers between them.

Hal let out a quiet groan when Y/N's hands slipped under his tuxedo jacket, pushing it off in one smooth motion before immediately tearing at the buttons of his shirt. The fabric slid down Hal's toned arms, exposing warm, sun-kissed skin, the sculpted planes of his chest now illuminated by the faint glow of the city skyline bleeding through the windows.

Y/N paused for just a second, his eyes trailing appreciatively over Hal's frame—not out of surprise, but undeniable appreciation.

Hal, noticing the moment, smirked, his breath still uneven. "You're staring," he teased, voice slightly breathless, though unmistakably cocky.

Y/N's lips curled into a smirk of his own, his fingers tracing slow, feather-light paths down Hal's abdomen before giving a firm push, guiding him backward until the mattress caught him. "You like the attention."

Hal grinned, reclining back on his elbows as Y/N climbed over him, the heat between them suffocatingly thick. "Can't blame you for looking." He reached for Y/N's own shirt, making quick, impatient work of the remaining buttons before pushing the fabric down broad shoulders. "But let's even the playing field."

With one final tug, Y/N's shirt joined the growing pile of discarded clothing on the floor, leaving them both bare from the waist up. The temperature between them spiked, skin meeting skin as their bodies pressed flush together in another kiss—this one slower, richer, deeper, filled with a quiet hunger that neither of them intended to leave unsatisfied.

Hal's fingers skimmed downward, his hands settling on Y/N's belt, pulling it free in one fluid motion. Y/N responded in kind, unbuckling Hal's belt and sliding it off with expert ease, the leather making a quiet whispered snap as it was discarded.

Their hands continued their exploration, neither wanting to waste a second, their movements fevered and searching—stripping away the last barriers between them one piece at a time until there was nothing left but bare skin, heat, and the raw pull of gravity between them.

Hal let his gaze sweep over Y/N, his smirk briefly faltering as something darker, more primal flickered in his emerald eyes. He had always known Y/N was powerful—he had fought beside him, seen him in battle, unmatched and untouchable—but this was something else entirely.

Y/N, catching Hal's gaze, arched a single brow, his smirk sharpening. "Not surprised."

Hal chuckled, dragging his hands down Y/N's sides, his thumbs grazing along the sharp cut of his hips. "Oh, you were thinking about it, huh?"

Y/N hummed, leaning in just enough that their lips barely brushed, a tease, a challenge. "I had my suspicions."

Hal's grin turned wicked, his fingers flexing deliberately against Y/N's waist. "Glad to know I didn't disappoint."

Y/N's fingers ghosted over Hal's chest, tracing the defined lines before pressing him back onto the mattress, their bodies following in one seamless motion. His voice was silky smooth, teasing, but dripping with something far more dangerous as he murmured,

"Let's see if you live up to the attitude."

Hal let out a low, pleased chuckle, his gaze dark with undisguised anticipation. He propped himself up just enough to meet Y/N's lips again, his hands already sliding over bare skin, tugging him closer, claiming him with the same reckless confidence that had always defined him.

"Oh, trust me," Hal murmured against Y/N's mouth, his breath hot, his grin devilish.

"I always deliver."

Soon the sheets beneath them were already a tangled mess, twisted and bunched where their bodies had moved, their warmth sinking into the fabric. Y/N was above him, his hands braced against the firm expanse of Hal's chest, fingers splayed over taut muscle as he moved with a rhythm that was deliberate, intoxicating, and entirely unhurried.

Hal lay beneath him, his head tilted back slightly, breath escaping in uneven gasps and quiet groans, but his eyes remained locked onto Y/N—half-lidded, dark with something insatiable. He was drinking in everything—the way Y/N moved, the way his lips parted slightly with every breath, the way his body responded with effortless control and quiet dominance.

Hal's grip on Y/N's waist tightened, fingers pressing into warm skin just enough to leave faint impressions, as if silently staking his claim.

"Damn," Hal groaned, his voice rough, uneven, as he let his hands roam over Y/N's back, tracing the ridges of muscle before gripping just a little firmer. He wasn't leading—he didn't need to. He was content to follow, to watch, to feel. "You really know how to take control, don't you?"

A slow, wicked smirk played on Y/N's lips as he continued his steady, calculated movements, his rhythm precise—teasing, yet never cruel. His fingers dragged deliberately down Hal's chest, nails grazing over heated skin before settling against his sides.

"You did say you liked a little chaos," Y/N murmured, his voice laced with amusement, but beneath it was something darker, something hungry.

Hal let out a gravelly chuckle, though it quickly dissolved into a sharp inhale when Y/N shifted just right, the change in motion sending a ripple of pleasure through him. His fingers flexed against Y/N's hips, guiding, encouraging, but never fully taking over. No—he wanted to feel every moment of this, wanted to watch Y/N unravel him piece by piece.

The room was filled with the sound of ragged breaths, low murmurs, and the faint rustling of fabric against skin, their movements measured yet deliberate, indulgent. The push and pull between them—this quiet battle for control and surrender—was a dance neither of them was in any hurry to finish.

Y/N's breath hitched slightly as he leaned down, pressing his forehead against Hal's, their lips brushing without fully meeting, teasing that last sliver of restraint still lingering between them.

"You're taking this way too well," Y/N muttered, his words a quiet taunt, though his voice was breathless, heated.

Hal smirked, his hands sliding up Y/N's spine, fingers dragging, tracing before gripping his shoulders. "Oh, don't worry," he murmured, his tone rough, teasing, edged with something smug yet undeniably wrecked. His lips barely grazed the corner of Y/N's mouth, his breath hot against his skin. "I can handle you."

Y/N let out a low hum, a sound of satisfaction, before pulling back just enough to meet Hal's gaze head-on. The moment stretched between them, their bodies flush and burning, the weight of their unspoken challenge settling in the air like the final note of a song waiting to be played.

And then—with slow, deliberate ease—Y/N continued.

The pace never faltered, never rushed, but the heat between them only intensified, growing thicker, heavier, their bodies moving in sync, breath mingling in the dimly lit room.

Then Hal decided to take control, the shift was seamless, as if it had always been inevitable. With a firm grip on Y/N's waist, he moved with fluid, effortless strength, flipping their positions in one smooth motion. The rumpled sheets cradled Y/N's back as he landed beneath Hal, the fabric warm, tangled, an echo of the heat lingering between them.

The air between them pulsed, thick with something raw, electric, unrestrained. Hal hovered over him, muscles taut, his body a solid weight above Y/N's, their breaths mingling, overlapping, heavy with anticipation. His emerald gaze burned, taking in everything—the way Y/N's lips were already parted, the way his chest rose and fell, the undeniable invitation in his eyes.

Hal leaned down, capturing Y/N's mouth in a kiss that was deep, consuming, and utterly unrelenting. There was nothing hesitant about it—only heat and hunger, only the undeniable pull of gravity between them. His hands mapped their way down Y/N's sides, fingers tracing every sharp line and soft curve, lingering just long enough to draw a shiver from beneath him.

And then, with practiced ease, he slid his hands lower, gripping firmly at Y/N's thighs before hooking his legs around his waist in one swift, commanding motion. Their bodies collided again, flush against each other, the friction igniting something deeper, something dangerously intoxicating.

The pace shifted—no longer teasing, no longer experimental. Deliberate. Controlled. Every movement was measured, but filled with Hal's signature confidence, that undeniable cocky charm that made it clear he knew exactly what he was doing.

And judging by the way Y/N arched beneath him, the way his breath hitched at every slow, precise motion, Hal knew he was right.

A smirk ghosted against Y/N's jawline before Hal let his lips drift lower, grazing the sensitive skin just below his ear. His breath was hot, teasing, his voice laced with something smug, something darkly amused.

"Thought you liked being in charge?" Hal murmured, his words dragging across Y/N's skin like a slow burn.

Y/N's hands had already found purchase on Hal's back, nails pressing just enough to leave faint scratches, little reminders of the push and pull between them.

His voice was breathless, but still laced with defiance, that ever-present challenging spark in his gaze.

"I do," he murmured, legs tightening around Hal's waist, pulling him even closer. His smirk was dangerous, eyes dark with amusement and something far more primal. "But I don't mind letting you try and keep up."

Hal let out a deep, gravelly chuckle, his grip tightening just slightly, enough to make a point. He pressed in deeper, the movement slow, precise, devastating.

"Oh, sweetheart," he drawled, his tone dripping with amusement, arrogance, and something darker, "I don't try—I deliver."

Y/N barely had time to fire back before Hal's pace changed again, the rhythm stronger, more focused, deliberate in every push and pull between them. A sharp gasp escaped Y/N, and Hal drank it in, memorized it, let it fuel the fire already burning deep within him.

Their bodies moved in perfect sync, the world outside this moment irrelevant, insignificant. The only thing that mattered was this, the way Y/N responded, the way Hal could pull him apart and put him back together with nothing but touch, movement, tension.

Y/N's fingers tangled in Hal's short, tousled hair, fisting the strands, pulling him down into another kiss—this one hot, urgent, filled with something dangerously addictive. Hal groaned into it, his hands roaming, gripping, claiming, as if trying to etch this moment into existence, refusing to let a single second slip away.

This wasn't just taking control—this was staking a claim, ensuring that every movement, every moment, every lingering breath was something Y/N would feel long after the night was over.

And judging by the way Y/N clung to him, his body tense, trembling, lost in the sensation, Hal knew he was doing exactly what he promised.

The faint hum of the world outside—the distant murmur of traffic, the occasional honk of a car horn—faded into nothingness, swallowed by the symphony they created together.

The rustle of sheets. The rhythmic sound of their bodies moving in perfect sync. The deep, ragged breaths, punctuated by gasps and murmured curses—it was a melody that belonged only to them, a song of tension, release, and something far more consuming.

And Hal couldn't take his eyes off Y/N.

The way his body arched beneath him, the sheen of sweat glistening on his skin, catching the faint light and making him look almost ethereal. The way his lips parted, breath hitching, spilling out ragged, intoxicating moans, each one a spark igniting something primal, all-consuming inside Hal.

Y/N was breathtaking.

Absolutely wrecked—but still so in control, the contrast devastatingly beautiful. His usual sharp wit, that calculated confidence, was softened now, undone by sensation, by Hal.

Hal's grip tightened on Y/N's hips, fingers digging into warm skin, grounding himself as he watched the way pleasure carved itself into every inch of Y/N's expression. His chest rose and fell in uneven waves, his head tilting slightly back, exposing the smooth column of his throat—an invitation, deliberate or not.

And god, the sounds spilling from his lips—low, breathy, sultry—made something deep in Hal's chest tighten, something raw and possessive clawing its way to the surface.

He wanted to draw out every sound, to push Y/N to that edge over and over, just to hear that perfect melody again.

"You look so damn good like this," Hal murmured, his voice thick, rough, filled with something deeper than admiration, heavier than lust. His lips found Y/N's jaw, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses along his throat, his collarbone, savoring the way he shivered beneath him.

"Could watch you like this forever," Hal admitted, his words gravelly, reverent, pressing harder, lingering longer, lips moving with purpose, with claim.

Y/N let out a breathless chuckle, though it was fractured, unsteady, as if he were barely holding onto control. His fingers dug into Hal's back, nails dragging faint red lines down heated skin.

"Cocky," Y/N muttered, his voice husky, teasing, but it wavered at the edges, betraying just how lost he was in the moment.

Hal's smirk curved against Y/N's skin, mischievous, knowing, before he rolled his hips just right—a deliberate, calculated movement that sent a sharp gasp tearing from Y/N's lips, his fingers tightening against Hal's skin.

"Damn right," Hal breathed, voice rich with amusement and something darker. He leaned back just enough to drink in the sight of him, eyes dark with hunger.

His smirk widened. "And judging by the way you're falling apart under me? I'd say I've earned it."

Y/N let out a shaky, uneven exhale, his head tilting back against the pillow, exposing himself to Hal completely, his body arching instinctively to meet every movement.

Hal memorized everything—the way Y/N reacted, the raw emotion flickering behind those darkened eyes, the sounds that sent shivers racing down his spine.

It wasn't just about this, about the way their bodies moved together in perfect sync—it was about him.

Y/N.

Every moment with him was intoxicating, a force Hal wasn't sure he could ever step away from, even if he wanted to.

And as he leaned down, capturing Y/N's lips again, pouring every bit of that realization into the kiss, Hal knew one thing for certain.

He would never get enough.

The early morning light filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a soft, golden glow over the room. It painted gentle patterns across the rumpled sheets, illuminating the faint traces of last night—the scattered clothes on the floor, the lingering warmth between tangled limbs, the quiet, unspoken intimacy woven into the stillness.

Outside, the city was beginning to stir—the distant hum of traffic, the occasional chirp of birds, the subtle rhythm of a world waking up. But inside the apartment, everything was quiet, wrapped in the kind of warmth and serenity that Hal Jordan had never been one to chase.

Yet, here he was.

Hal inhaled deeply, stretching slightly before his mind caught up to where he was—and, more importantly, who he was with.

A smirk curled at the corners of his lips as memories of last night flooded back—every touch, every sound, every moment that had left him wrecked in the best way possible.

Yeah... he had definitely outdone himself this time.

But what really had him feeling like he was on cloud nine wasn't just the mind-blowing night they had—it was this. The quiet aftermath.

The feeling of Y/N's warm, relaxed body pressed against him, his back flush against Hal's chest, his slow, even breaths ghosting over the pillow.

Hal let his arm tighten slightly around Y/N's waist, pulling him closer, reveling in the way their bodies fit so naturally together. Y/N's skin was still warm, his bare back smooth against Hal's chest, his scent lingering from last night—a mix of something intoxicating and uniquely him.

God, this was nice.

Hal let out a deep, satisfied sigh, nuzzling into Y/N's shoulder, content in a way he rarely let himself be.

He had never been one for cuddling after sex—it always felt too intimate, too much. But with Y/N?

Yeah. He liked this.

Maybe even more than he was ready to admit.

He was just settling into the moment, relaxing fully, when it happened.

Y/N shifted.

A small, unconscious movement, the kind that happened in the hazy depths of sleep. But the effect?

Immediate.

Because Y/N had pressed back against him, his bare ass fitting perfectly against Hal's lower half, sending a jolt of awareness straight through him.

Hal stilled.

For a moment, he tried to process the situation, tried to tell himself he was a grown man with self-control, for god's sake.

Then Y/N shifted again, pressing even closer, his breathing still slow, steady, completely unaware of what he was doing to him.

Hal's grip on Y/N's hip tightened instinctively, his fingers flexing as heat pooled low in his stomach. His breath hitched, and he closed his eyes for a second, silently cursing the universe.

Oh, come on.

Hal tilted his head back against the pillow, exhaling sharply through his nose, trying—desperately—to ignore the fact that his dick had very different plans.

This is fine, he told himself. I can ignore it. I can be normal about this.

Y/N let out a soft sigh in his sleep, his body molding even further into Hal's, and Hal immediately knew—

Nope. Nope. Not fine. Not even a little bit.

His jaw clenched, his fingers digging slightly into Y/N's hip as he fought every instinct telling him to wake Y/N up in a very, very interesting way.

His options were limited.

He could either:

A) Wake Y/N up.

B) Suffer in silence while Y/N continued to sleep peacefully, blissfully unaware that Hal was fighting for his damn life.

He sighed dramatically, resting his forehead against Y/N's shoulder, his voice a low, tortured groan.

"You're killing me here," he muttered, knowing full well that Y/N was still lost in sleep, completely unaware of his struggle.

Hal wasn't sure how long he could last like this, but one thing was certain—

Mornings with Y/N were going to be very, very dangerous for his self-control.

Y/N slowly stirred from his sleep, stretching slightly against the warmth surrounding him. His mind was still groggy, lost somewhere between dreams and reality, but the steady rise and fall of a firm chest against his back made him remember exactly where he was—and who he was with.

A small, satisfied smirk tugged at Y/N's lips as last night's memories resurfaced. Oh yeah. That happened.

Still feigning sleep, he remained still for a moment, listening to the quiet sounds of Hal breathing behind him—slow, controlled, forced. It was subtle, but Y/N could feel the tension in Hal's body, the way his muscles were coiled, how his hand was resting just a little too stiffly on Y/N's hip. And then... there it was. The unmistakable hardness pressing against the small of Y/N's back.

Well, well, Y/N thought, suppressing a grin. Good morning, indeed.

Deciding to have a little fun, he shifted slightly, pressing back against Hal just enough to gauge his reaction.

The result was instant. Hal inhaled sharply through his nose, his grip tightening ever so slightly on Y/N's waist as if trying to will himself to stay still.

Y/N fought back a chuckle, but he wasn't done yet. He stretched again, slower this time, deliberately rolling his hips ever so slightly, pressing himself further into Hal's very obvious problem.

Hal let out a soft hngh sound—barely audible, but Y/N heard it. He grinned to himself.

"You awake, Jordan?" Y/N asked, voice thick with sleep, as if he hadn't just set Hal up for absolute torture.

Hal let out a slow, controlled exhale. "Mmhmm," he replied through gritted teeth.

Y/N hummed, shifting again—just a fraction, just enough to make Hal's fingers twitch against his skin. "You sure? You seem a little... tense."

Hal groaned softly, pressing his forehead against the back of Y/N's shoulder. "You're killing me, you know that?"

Y/N smirked, finally turning his head just enough to glance back at him. "Oh? Something wrong?"

Hal's fingers dug into Y/N's waist, his jaw clenched. "You know what's wrong."

Y/N turned fully now, shifting onto his back so he could face Hal properly. And damn—the look on Hal's face was priceless. His usual cocky confidence was hanging by a thread, his lips parted slightly, eyes dark with barely restrained frustration.

Y/N reached up, running a slow finger down Hal's chest, watching with amusement as his muscles tensed under his touch. "I seem fine," Y/N said, his voice dripping with playful innocence. "You, on the other hand..." His gaze flickered downward with an exaggerated slowness noticing Hal's dick hard and firm before meeting Hal's eyes again. "That looks like a problem."

Hal exhaled sharply through his nose, his hand moving up to cradle Y/N's jaw, thumb brushing over his cheek in a way that was far too affectionate for how frustrated he clearly was.

"You love testing my patience, don't you?" Hal murmured, voice low, rough.

Y/N grinned up at him. "Well, you're fun to mess with."

Hal's lips twitched into a smirk. "That—" he suddenly rolled his hips just enough to turn the tables on Y/N, making him gasp this time—"was a mistake."

Y/N's breath hitched slightly before he narrowed his eyes playfully. "Oh? Gonna do something about it, flyboy?"

Hal's grin widened. "Oh, you have no idea."

And just like that, the morning took a very interesting turn.

#x male reader #dc x male reader #dc #hal jordan #hal jordan x male reader #gay #green lantern #green lantern x male reader

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ohbo-ohno · 1 year ago

Text

run until you feel your lungs bleeding (ghost x reader)

summary: You're on the run after finally escaping from your abusive husband's clutches, hitchhiking south along California highways. A strange man in a black mask picks you up, and it doesn't take you long to realize that not every hand offered should be taken.

word count: 6.5k

cw: dark fic!, noncon somnophilia, referenced abuse from a past partner, ghost does not care about reader's feelings, mentioned drinking while driving but no intoxication

read on ao3 - see the pinterest board

One of your blisters is about to burst. You’d worn through your only pair of clean socks yesterday, leaving the back of your heel vulnerable to your old tennis shoes and their vendetta against your feet. You can feel your skin rubbing thinner and thinner with each step, know it’s only a matter of time before you’ve got blood flowing freely into your shoe.

You keep your left arm stretched out, thumb held up in the hope that someone will take pity on your limping form and give you a ride.

It’s not likely, you’ve been hitchhiking for days now and not a single person has slowed down. You’ve got no real destination, just a goal of putting as much space between you and your piece of shit ex-husband as possible. Your end goal is Arizona - you’ve got an aunt somewhere in Scottsdale, if you can get to her you can only hope she’ll help you get back on your feet.

A few people honk as they drive by. In the two days you’ve been walking, none have stopped. You take short power naps at night off the side of the road, pray to every god you can think of that you don’t get run over or eaten by something.

You haven’t yet. But you know if you don’t get a good night's sleep soon, don’t start putting actual distance between him and you, then you might not survive your escape.

The sun is at its apex when the semi-truck pulls up beside you. It’s black, the trailer attached is plain white with no logo painted on. You can hardly believe your luck, gape up at the massive thing as it slows. The door pops open a moment after the truck rolls to a stop, but it’s so high up that you can’t see who’s driving past their hand - gloved - before they pull it back.

You don’t have the luxury of asking questions. You just stumble over, flinching back with a little hiss when you place your palm on the metal of the truck and burn your hand. It takes a minute to finagle your way into the truck, but you manage it eventually, huffing and puffing all the way up.

The first thing you notice about the man in the driver’s seat is his size - he’s big. Bigger than any man you’ve seen before. You just reach his shoulders even with both of you sitting down, his legs are spread so wide his knees nearly rest on his door and the gearshift, his head is close to brushing the roof. He’s just… big.

He’s wearing a black neck gaiter pulled up to cover his mouth and nose, which strikes you as odd considering he’s driving on his own, but you brush the thought off. His hair is blond, greasy and limp on his scalp, you doubt he did more than run his fingers through it getting out of bed. His eyes are blue, a light shade that surprises you for some reason. You don’t know a thing about this man, certainly not enough to be surprised by anything about him, but the blond hair and the blue eyes… it doesn’t quite fit with the black gloves and the mask.

He’s reclined back in his seat, one hand resting on the wheel and the other on his thigh, eyes scanning you like a king his subject. His eyes linger on your tiny shorts (sleep shorts, what you’d been wearing the night of your escape), skip right past the sluggishly bleeding scrapes on your knees and scan your ratty backpack.

You hope he won’t ask you to empty it. You’d like to keep your gun for as long as possible, can’t imagine this trucker would be ok with the hitchhiker he just picked up having a loaded weapon.

He doesn’t speak when he finally makes eye contact with you. You can’t hold it for long at all, only manage a few seconds before you’re glancing around his truck.

He doesn’t speak. Neither do you.

His car reeks of smoke. There’s a beer bottle in his cup holder, open and helf empty. There are more bottles - empty - by your feet. He doesn’t have the radio playing.

When you look back at him, his eyes are already trained on yours. You can’t help but flinch - the intensity of his gaze feels suffocating, even after only a few seconds of being held under it.

You work up the nerve to speak, take a few deep breaths and a few more long looks around the truck, the space this man spends most of his days in.

There are cigarette stubs on the dashboard, which has clearly been used as a makeshift ashtray. The seats are old, the leather peeling and tempting you to pick, and the dash itself is sunbleached.

“I’m trying to go to Arizona,” you finally say, flickering your eyes quickly to his and away again. His jeans are worn - but naturally worn, like he’s had them for months and washed them so many times they’ve lost their color. “Are… are you heading that direction?”

You look at him long enough to see him incline his head a bit. You don’t think he’s blinked since you got in the car.

“Goin’ south,” he affirms. His voice is a low grumble, British accented. Not necessarily unsurprising to hear in California, but a shock from a truck driver. “I’ll drop you somewhere along the way.”

He pulls away from the shoulder with that and turns away from you, apparently finished with the interaction.

Being dropped somewhere along the way isn’t necessarily your ideal situation, but your feet scream in relief at the lack of pressure, so you’re certainly not going to complain.

You shift a little further back in your seat, tuck the backpack between you and the passenger door. He could reach it if he wanted, but keeping yourself between this stranger and your prized possessions feels like the right choice. You think about propping your feet up on the dashboard, but decide you don’t want to seem too rude to your apparent savior.

You look out the window. You’ve never been in a car this high, and even the flat California highways look more interesting at a new vantage point. It’s easier to focus on the far-off mountains than the giant beside you.

“So,” you cough lightly, awkward in the relative silence of the truck. The engine is loud, but the driver’s radio is dead silent. “What’s your name?”

He grunts, gives no other response. You glance over to him, a little unsure of yourself. Had you made that bad of a first impression somehow?

He doesn’t turn to you, and he doesn’t answer your question.

Alright, you tell yourself. Maybe he does this all the time, maybe he’s tired of making small talk with homeless and desperate hitchhikers. That’s probably it.

You don’t give him your name. Instead, you tuck your feet up to the seat beneath your thighs, turn your body fully to the passenger window, fold your arms on the windowsill and lay your chin on your elbows.

The drive is smooth enough for you to relax, even though you know that logically you shouldn’t. You’re a young woman who’s just gotten into a car with a strange and intimidating man who could very clearly physically overpower you. Nobody knows where you are. You should have a hand on your gun already, ready for anything the driver might try.

But you’ve been walking for days, and hadn't been sleeping well before that either. You haven’t had a good night’s sleep since your wedding night. The low rumble of the engine, the heat of the sun beaming through the glass, the surprisingly gentle motions of the truck…

You don’t quite let yourself fall asleep, but it’s a near thing.

———————————————————————

The two of you stay like that for hours. Your benevolent driver seemingly comfortable in his silence with you drowsy and relaxing in his passenger seat. You don’t stay in the same position for more than an hour or two at once, shifting your legs and always keeping any pressure off your feet.

You’d like to pull your shoes off, to ask if the man has any band-aids. Maybe any food, any water. But you can’t risk pissing him off, not when your other options are nonexistent. So you settle for slow movements, trying to keep your blisters from being irritated.

He finishes his beer before the first hour has passed with you in his vehicle. Waits another two to have a second. You don’t comment on it, but the scent makes your lip curl, and you bury your face in your arms to hide the reaction. You hope he’s not a lightweight. And despite the heavy stench of cigarette smoke sunken into the interior, he hasn’t had one yet.

He’s the one who speaks next.

It’s a quarter until 6, and the sun has started her slow journey to sleep. You’ve been watching the sight for a while, entranced by the slow process with nothing else to amuse you.

“Pullin’ off,” he grunts.

You can’t help but jerk up straight at the sound, caught off guard. You’d nearly forgotten about his accent, about how deep his voice really is.

“For gas?” You ask, turning in your seat to glance at him for the first time in at least an hour. He only grunts again, a noise you’re just going to assume means yes.

“Alright,” you nod, letting your feet drop to the floor from where you’d crossed them beneath yourself. “Are you… do you want me to find someone else to ride with?” You cross your fingers where you tuck them beneath your thighs, pray to every god you know of that he doesn’t make that yes grunt again.

He looks over to you this time, and the two of you make eye contact for the first time since you’d gotten into the car nearly six hours ago. His eyes are brighter than you remember, and the impact of them sends a jolt up your spine.

You’re not sure how long he looks at you. You feel stuck under his gaze, a little wide-eyed prey animal spotted by a predator who can only lay still and hope they move on. You’ve never felt quite so pinned before, quite so unable to break eye contact. You don’t think you like it.

He looks away first, shifts in his seat and drops one hand from the steering wheel to lay on his thigh. You swallow at how tight his jeans are, how his thighs seem to nearly bulge from them.

“No,” he finally answers. It takes a moment for you to remember your own question, but your sigh of relief is loud once you do.

If you’re lucky, he’ll try and drive through the night. Dangerous, since it’ll make for nearly twenty-four hours on the road, but you’d rather take your chances with him than falling asleep at the wheel then spend another night staring into a dark forest and wondering if there are wolves in this part of the country.

He turns off the highway three exits later, pulls his truck into the first reststop. It’s the only structure in the nearby area, a McDonald’s-Subway-Shell mix with ten pumps, less than half with someone using them. It’s the kind of rest stop you’ve seen on countless roadtrips, one that you know exists off half the exits in the States. The familiarity of it makes your lips twitch up in the corners.

There are several other semi-trucks pulled up getting gas, none quite the size of your driver’s. He parks quickly and easily, in one try, and turns the truck completely off. You shift a little in your seat, unsure what he’ll want from you, but he’s hauled himself up and out of the truck before you can open your mouth to ask.

You settle a bit. He’d said he wouldn’t make you leave but you still can’t fully relax for some reason, can’t bring back the looseness to your shoulders you’ve had since he picked you up. You entertain yourself by watching a middle aged couple try and wrangle six kids that look like they’re all under ten, since I’m sympathy when the littlest one’s face goes red and he starts to wail.

The door next to you opens without warning. You manage to catch your bag before it can go tumbling out of the car, can’t hold back the little yelp of surprise. Your eyes are wide, fingers holding tight to the bag, when you look up through your hair.

The driver’s face looks the same as it has for the last six hours - expressionless. Even with the mask, surely his eyebrows should move at least a bit? He looks almost like a corpse above you - pale face and flat features. It unnerves you.

“Gettin’ food. You got money?”

You hesitate for a moment - you do have money, small bills you’d snuck from your husband’s wallet that you’d planned to use for a bus ticket. You’re not starving yet, the few granola bars you’d taken in your escape will tide you over for a little while longer.

You shake your head.

He nods, like he’d expected that, and glances over your form from head to toe again. “Alright. You want somethin’ to eat, now’s your chance. We’ll be back on the road for another few hours before I stop for the night.”

With that he turns away, jumps down to the parking lot and stalks off toward the McDonald’s. It takes you a minute to follow him, still a little shocked that you’d gotten multiple sentences from him at once.

The thought of free food is far too tempting to let you linger for too long, though, and you’re throwing your bag over your shoulders and scampering after him only a moment later. You have to trot a little awkwardly to keep up with his long strides. He doesn’t hold the door open for you, but you catch him glancing over his shoulder to see if you’re there.

The teenager working the register looks like it’s their first day, and you assume a middle-aged man leaning against the counter beside her is meant to be showing her the ropes. He’s far more occupied with whatever’s on his phone screen, leaving the cashier to stare up at your driver with wide eyes.

You get it. Standing next to him now, you decide he’s not big - he’s huge. Has to be at least six and a half feet tall, and at least a foot taller than you. Combined with his muscular form - another odd thing for a truck driver - and his all black attire, he seems almost like some sort of monster or omen come to warn about the future.

You step up to the counter beside him, give the cashier your best reassuring smile when she glances at you. It gives her enough courage to stumble over, “Welcome to McDonald’s, what can I get you today?” after only a few stuttering starts. You’re quite proud of her.

“Five Big Macs and fries. No drink.” The man rumbles, his mask umoving. He glances down at you, finally cocks an eyebrow (an expression!) for you to order.

“Uh, just… just ten nuggets for me,” you smile at the cashier, glance up at the driver to make sure you haven’t somehow ordered too much. “And, uh, a Coke?”

“Will that be all for you today?”

“Make it a twenty nugget meal,” your partner corrects, then pulls a worn leather from his back pocket and pays with a shiny card. You can’t help but eye the many bills folded neatly in the wallet.

“Thanks for the upgrade,” you say as the two of you slide onto a pair of stools to wait for your food. “I really appreciate it. I, uh, I can’t pay you back, though.”

He glances at you again, holds you pinned under his gaze and kicks your heartbeat up a few notches. It becomes a conscious effort to keep your breathing steady when he spreads his thighs enough to brush against yours.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Your meal is largely silent. He all but inhales three of his five burgers, leaves the other two wrapped up presumably for later on the drive. You try and eat all of your nuggets and fries, but your granola bar diet of the last few days means your stomach feels stretched to his limit only a few bites into the meal.

After your fifth nugget, you tuck the little box closed. Shift towards your driver and glance up from the window you’d been staring out to see him already looking down at you.

You clear your throat, take a little sip of your Coke. “I’m done.”

He shakes his head once, reaches forward to pop the little box back open. “No, you’re not. We’re not getting back on the road ‘til you eat at least half.”

You can’t help but blink in surprise at him, not moving to take any more food. He won’t tell you his name, won’t make any small talk whatsoever, but he will worry about how much you’re eating?

He grunts when you don’t make a move to listen to him, pushes the little brown box closer to you. “C’mon. Eat.”

You get through another five under his eye. He doesn’t look away from you, and now you know about the stare. It feels heavier now, like every little twitch from you is catalouged by him. It makes every bite difficult to swallow.

He nods when you tuck the little box closed again, glance a bit wearily at him to make sure he’s content now. He picks up your tray, tucks his two sandwiches in one hand, and leaves. You scramble to keep up.

His strides are a little shorter in the parking lot this time, and the slower pace keeps your blisters from further irritation. You’re not sure it’s intentional, but you’re thankful nonetheless.

The truck is still difficult to get into, but the worn leather seats are a familiar comfort now. This time, your driver flicks on the radio as he pulls out of the rest stop.

For some reason, you feel like maybe he likes you. There’s something in the line of his body that feels a little softer now, the tension in the truck feels a little drained. It could be the music, but you prefer to think that he’s taken a bit of a liking to you. It means he’s less likely to end up hurting you, means you're less likely to have to rely on your non-existent shooting skills.

With the sun nearly fully set and the soft music from the radio, it’s much harder to keep yourself awake. You curl up in the seat, lay your head down on folded arms, and try your best to keep your eyes open.

———————————————————————

You don’t know how long it’s been when you wake up.

The truck is silent now, no engine and no radio, and the world outside is pitch black. You jerk up at the realization, quickly lay a hand on your bag and turn to your driver.

He’s staring at you. You nearly yelp in surprise, bite your tongue so harshly to keep the noise back that you taste the tang of iron.

He looks nearly inhuman in just the low light of the truck. Pale skin, blonde hair, blue eyes, a dark black mask obscuring half of his face. His body is turned towards you, black shirt and dark pants making him look almost like the top half of his face is just… floating.

“I need to sleep,” he rumbles, keeping you held captive in what almost feels like a staring contest - like if you look away now, you’ll lose something. “You can take the bed in the back.”

That gets your heartbeat quickening, the thud of your pulse loud in your own ears. “Oh… I thought…” you swallow, finally tear your eyes from his to look around. You seem to be at another rest stop, this one a small dark building with two bathrooms and a few vending machines. There aren’t any other trucks parked around you. “I thought I might try and find a motel or something.”

“With what money?”

He’s got you there. You work your tongue against the roof of your mouth, clear away the blood and try to make your mouth not so bone-dry. “Yeah,” you nearly whisper, eyes darting back to his before away again. He hasn’t moved. You clear your throat before speaking again. “But, uh, I don’t want to kick you out of your bed. I can sleep up here.”

“You’ll take the bed,” he reaffirms, with no room for argument in his tone. You can’t help but feel like there’s something more here, like you’re missing something. You don’t feel safe anymore, not like you had after the McDonald’s. Why did you let yourself fall asleep? You could have pressured him to pull off somewhere with a motel, tried to finagle or scam yourself into a room with a lock on the door.

Now you’re stuck in this dark truck, no one else but the driver around for miles.

You swallow again, force down a cough.

You don’t want to sleep in his bed. But a glance over at him tells you that’s what’s going to happen. Your driver doesn’t seem the kind of man to take kindly to disobedience.

“What’s your name?” You ask again, voice weak and quiet. For some reason, this feels important. Like a name will make him more human, easier to swallow.

He only tilts his head a little, face still stoic. “Get in bed. We’ll drive again when the sun rises.”

“Please,” you try, a hint of desperation creeping into your voice. You can’t explain it, but you need his name. Need some evidence that he’s more man than he looks. This moment feels pivotal, and there’s a little voice screaming at the back of your head that things are going in the wrong direction.

“Sleep, doll,” is all he says. His voice isn’t softer, but it’s quieter, like maybe he understands the fear coursing through you.

You squeeze your eyes shut a moment before pushing yourself up, both hands holding onto your bag - your literal only possible defense againt this man - like a lifeline. You know they’d shake if your grips was any looser.

It’s too dark to make out much in the back of his cabin. The bed is a decent size for you, but you wonder if he’s able to stretch out fully on it. You think you can see the outline of a minifridge and a few books resting on the floor.

He’s still watching you as you sit on the bed, his body unmoved but his head turned towards you. You try to keep your breathing steady as you toe your shoes off, tuck your feet up to the bed with you and curl up on your side.

The bag doesn’t leave your arms. His eyes don’t leave your form. He makes no move to stretch out and sleep like he’d said he would.

You force your eyes closed, no matter how wrong it feels. You try and will yourself to sleep, tell yourself everything will be fine. If he tries anything, you’ll shoot him.

You can still feel his gaze on you when you finally slip into unconsciousness.

———————————————————————

You wake slowly to movement behind you.

You blink heavy eyelids open, let them fall shut again when there’s no difference in what you can see. You feel cloaked by sleep still, like your brain has been held underwater and everything moves a little slowly, a little muffled.

The bed dips behind you, and there’s a warmth behind you. A hand at your waist. The top of a foot against the sole of yours. A chest against your back.

Your eyes stay closed, but your brows furrow a bit. Your husband has always hated the idea of cuddling, slept like a corpse on his back and berated you if you dared to touch him in your sleep. You nearly roll over, but figure that might set him off. Your arms still ache from the last argument you’d had.

The hand slips beneath your shirt, rough palm against your waist, thumb smoothing in little circles.

That catches your attention, too - your husband’s hands are soft. He’s never done a day of work in his life, the only job he’s had is some fake title made up by his father at his company. The hand on your skin isn’t soft at all, it’s rough with big, thick fingers that rest heavily on you.

The realization comes to you in pieces.

Your master bedroom was never this dark, the large windows always left wide open to allow moonlight into the room. Your ex-husband’s hands are smooth, boney and nearing on frail. The foot brushing against yours triggers a burning sensation in your blisters.

You keep your breathing even - an effort that feels impossible.

It’s not your husband at your back, it’s the truck driver.

He’s silent as he tucks himself fully to you. His breath is damp against your neck and you fight down a shudder at the sensation.

Your bag isn’t in your arms, which means you don’t have your gun. Whatever happens, whatever he does to you, you have no way of defending yourself.

The only reason you don’t cry at the thought is because you don’t want him to know you’re awake. It’s pure self-preservation that keeps your breathing even, your limbs loose, and your breathing slow.

He brings his head closer, his breathing loud in your ear. Every part of him is pressed against you, and you can’t help squeezing your eyes shut more tightly at the hardness poking into your back.

He’s silent as he sets his chin over your shoulder. His groin is tucked right beneath your ass, his knees behind yours and his feet benath yours. He’s just… spooning you.

It feels like an eternity passes just like that. Your heartbeat pounding in every bone, the heat of the driver’s body against yours. His breath is the only noise you hear, ghosting over your ear, heavier than your own.

Eventually, he starts to move. You almost whimper when you realize what he’s doing.

He’s humping you.

His movements are slow at first, just a little rock of his hips against you. But as the minutes pass he becomes more incensed, his thrusts harder against you, his breathing heavier. He grunts at one point, and it takes everything in you not to flinch away.

You want to scream. You want to open your mouth and shout, to roll over and make him stop.

But you don’t have your gun. And he dwarfs you, every inch of your back covered by him and then some. You can’t stop him.

So you let it happen. You keep your eyes screwed shut, try desperately to go anywhere else in your head and pretend you don’t feel how quickly his hips begin to rock.

His hand moves from your hip to your stomach, his pinky resting on the waistband of your sleep shorts. You don’t think you could stay quiet any longer if his fingers slipped beneath the hem, and you let out a near silent breath of relief when his palm continues up instead of down.

He almost rolls you onto your stomach, angles you so your front is closer to the mattress and he can grind more on you than beside you. His hand slips further up your shirt, and you bite your tongue at the feeling of his rough palm against your nipples.

That gets another huff from him, another low sound that could almost be a moan. You feel him shift again, his hips working a little more roughly. You’re not sure how he possibly thinks you’re still asleep, but you pray he doesn’t take it any further as long as he does.

He doesn’t pinch, just softly strokes over one breast. His hand engulfs it fully, fingers wrapping all the way around the little mound of flesh. The calluses on his palm send little sparks down your spine, and you curse your body for the buzzing sensation between your thighs.

His breath gets heavier in your ear, he’s nearly panting over you. If you weren’t wearing shorts and he wasn’t wearing jeans, he’d be fucking you. His thrusting almost feels like he is. The… thing grinding against you is clearly large, even through all the layers of clothing, and you say another prayer that he doesn’t do more than this.

“Fuck,” he grunts, his chin pushing hard into your shoulder. You almost jerk at the sound of his voice, the evidence that this is real and not some horrible nightmare.

You wish you could fall back asleep.

You don’t know how long the whole thing lasts. The pitch dark, the driver’s oppressive weight against you, it makes time feel liminal. You’re not sure if he lasts for five minutes or five hours.

But eventually his hips slow, give a few harder thrusts before he goes completely still and lets out a loud groan. Again, you wonder how he expects you to have slept through the noise.

He shifts back a little in the aftermath, rolling you back to your side with a heavy hand on your stomach. You try to keep yourself as limp as possible, try to make your face go slack.

He lays with you for a while, breathing even and slow. You wish he would leave, wish he would let you start pretending this never happened. His hand stays on your stomach, and you can feel the other crossed over his midsection at your back. His feet hold your ankles to the bed. You hope he can’t feel that you’re squeezing your hands into tight fists where they rest against your thighs.

He doesn’t leave. Instead, he shifts his own thick thigh between your own, the rough denim of his jeans irritating the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. He tucks his leg up, settles it right against your core.

You can’t help the way your breath hitches at the sudden pressure. You hold it immediately after, then try to breathe normally again when you realize how obvious the sudden change sounds. He doesn’t react, though, so you think you’re safe.

The pressure increases a bit more before stopping. You’re almost propped up on his thigh, your pussy pressed against him through your shorts. It’s hard not to open your eyes, to look down and see what’s happening.

His hand slips down from your stomach to the waistband of your shorts. You can’t keep yourself from moving this time, already knowing what he’s going to do. You shift your hips a little, make a tiny noise in your throat that you hope comes off as a normal still-asleep sound. The movement only presses you closer to him.

He hums lowly in your ear, fingers stroking across the waistband of your shorts before dipping inside, then past your little gray panties. You can’t help the little squeak you make, the way your hands twitch before you force them still.

The sound he makes is almost a laugh, too low and quiet to really be one though. He hushes you softly, pushes on the meat of your most vulnerable part to still you.

You don’t know if he thinks you’re awake. You think he must, there’s no way you could have slept through what he’d just done, and you’ve moved twice now. But he doesn’t speak to you, doesn’t become more aggressive.

You debate putting up a fight when his fingers sink lower, his palm resting heavily over your cunt. But the thought of him becoming rough, of him restraining you… it makes bile churn in your stomach.

You resign yourself to waiting until it’s over, go limp against the bed again.

Another hum, and his free hand moves beneath your body to grasp your hip. He moves you slowly, little grinding motions over his thigh. The hand over your heat uses two fingers to spread the lips of your cunt, tucks the gusset of your underwear and the fabric of your shorts to the side so your clit makes direct contact with his jeans.

You keen quietly at the sensation, a little animal noise of fear, of pain. You wish you had your gun, wish you could make this man stop.

But you can’t. So you bear it.

He doesn’t touch your clit with his fingers, doesn’t touch any part of your pussy but to spread you wide. His thigh moves along yours, his hand grinding you against it. You hate the slickness gathering at your hole, hate the way your nipples tighten, the way your breaths become heavier.

You bite your tongue to hold back any other sounds, that tang of blood returning after only a few seconds.

“C’mon,” he says into your neck, his voice a low whisper. “Come f’r me, doll... be good.”

You don’t want to be good, can’t suppress the little whine you make at even the thought. He rumbles low in his chest in response, pushes against you a little harder.

You can’t stay quiet through your orgasm. It’s a slow thing, rolling and deep. You feel it in your toes, in your scalp, and in every vein between. Had you been willing, been with a partner of your choice, you may have thrown your head back and cried out. But here in the truck, with this man you can’t believe you were stupid enough to trust, you squeeze your eyes so tightly shut that tears eek out the corners and bite your cheek until there’s a sore. And still, a moan vibrates in your chest.

He stops grinding you against him when your orgasm is finished. His finges slip from you slowly, tuck your panties back over your mound and give you two little pats before he fully pulls his hand away.

Both of his hands slip back up your stomach, grab a handful of your chest and massage you there for several moments. Your breathing gradually slows as your body comes down, your limbs going limp again despite the fact that his hands are still on you.

He rolls you to your back when he’s finished. You feel his lips press against each of your eyelids, squeezed shut no matter how hard you try to force your face to relax. Another tear slips down the side of your nose, and he kisses it away before it can reach your lips. You feel his tongue stroke beneath each eye, know that he’s cleaning away your tears. He gives you a final, chaste kiss on your lips before pulling away.

He’s gone a moment later, and you’re left cold and alone in his bed.

———————————————————————

He smokes a cigarette while he watches you sleep. Your nose twitches at the first hint of smoke, and he almost smirks at the expression.

He can’t believe he found you. A perfect little doll of a girl, limping all filthy and sad along the side of a highway, just waiting for someone to scoop you up. God truly does have a sick sense of humor, gifting a bastard like Ghost a gift like you.

He hadn’t planned to keep you at first. He figured he’d ride with you for a while, fuck you a few times to have a warm place to dump his cum before dropping you off at a rest stop for another driver to scoop up. But no, that won’t do now that he’s felt your cunt against his hand, watched you try desperately to hold back every expression because you thought it might keep you safe.

He’ll have to find out where the finger-shaped bruises on your arms are from. After this trip, he’ll find whoever left them and take care of them. He’ll be the only one hurting his little doll, no one else. Might even win him a few brownie points with you, if he’s lucky.

Your feet probably need bandaging, too. He’d seen the redness at the back of your ankles when you tucked your feet up on his seats, felt the blisters against his own feet when he laid with you. He’ll make sure you stay off your feet for a bit, give them time to heal.

That gets another smirk. You won’t be leaving the truck for a long time, there’ll be no need to worry about your blisters after tonight. He’ll keep you off your feet. Maybe have you thank him for taking such good care of you.

He’ll try your mouth next. He bites back a moan imagining your face pressed against his crotch, knows already that the difference in size between the two of you will be absolutely pornographic at that angle. Can’t wait to teach you to deepthroat him, salivating at the image of you holding him in your mouth on the road.

He’d already wasted one load, it’s only right you take the next. You’re his now, which means he shouldn’t have to come in his fucking pants like a teenager ever again.

But he’d gone easy on you, hadn’t made you take him in any of your holes this first night. Even let you pretend to sleep through the whole thing, though your shifting hips and little scrunched up face gave you away as soon as he pressed himself against you.

It was endearing, really, the way you tried so hard to pretend it wasn’t happening. He can still taste your tears on his tongue, mixing with the acrid taste of nicotine. He can’t wait to learn what your pussy tastes like.

He takes a long pull from the cigarette and considers your little shaking form.

You won’t need much now that you’re with him. Only a few outfits in case he needs to bring you in somewhere, but you’ll be kept naked when in his truck. He’ll have to find a motel sometime soon, get all the grime washed off your skin and the grease out of your hair. He’d like to see it brushed out, see how you might style it for him.

He’ll take good care of you. Feed you when you’re hungry, maybe get some little toys or books if you’re good, fuck you whenever you - or he - needs it.

It’ll take a while for you to settle, he knows. You’ll spend a bit looking for that girly little gun you’d been keeping tucked away in your bag. But that’s okay. He already knows he’ll enjoy training you, showing you just how to be the perfect little doll for him.

He stubs the cigarette out in an ashtray, climbs back into bed with you and tucks you tight to his chest. Your little sniffling breaths draw another little twitch of the lips from him, and he buries his nose in your hair before shutting his eyes.

Yeah, you're going to be perfect for him.

#cod #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost riley x reader #bo writes #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #ghost riley x you #dark fic #cod x reader #ghost cod #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic

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starlightdreaming · 11 months ago

Text

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader! Ch. 4!

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel!

Content warning: more blood! *Niffty’s manic laugh* i guess maybe some comfort this time (not from Lucifer lol) also more angst but a smidge bits of it, also LONGESTT CHAPTER YET and small implications of Season 1: Ep. 2 of Hazbin Hotel. (not proofread)

Synopsis: after waking up in hell, you try and find help of any kind.

Further note: I LOVED WRITING THIS CHAPTER SMM U HAVE NO IDEA (sorry it took a while) ENJOY READING MORE THAN I ENJOYED WRITING I!!/! - ✨Lolo💫

Chapters!: Chapter 1 ✧ Chapter 2 ✧ Chapter 3 ✧ Chapter 4 (you are here) •<•)b ✧ Chapter 5

this chapters song is:

(optional but recommended to improve reading experience!!:!)

｡･:*:･ﾟLululuna･ﾟ:｡*:･｡

“Lucifer, do you want to play with the stars with me?” You ask him, him turning to you and taking your hands into his, him looking at you with loving and caring eyes, you looking deeply into his as well, “I’d love to!” He says, dragging you to the oak tree you had agreed upon to be your hangout spot from now on.

You both rolled into the grass together, told stories at night and used magic to display your dreams of creations, everything was perfect, he was perfect, everything felt perfect.

“I never want to see you again,” He snapped, “And I fucking mean it.” He says as he looked at you with pure hatred in his eyes, oh those eyes, once full of love now full of hatred. Your heart began to beat harder as it ached, ‘this whole mess was your fault wasn’t it?’ you thought as your breath hitched, staring at those eyes he gave you, oh how you never wanted to see them again but here you were. You tried to breathe again but you just couldn’t, those eyes were staring deeply into your soul, you just couldn’t find a way to breathe as you began to hyperventilate, your body felt frozen in terror as you stared back into those careless, dull, hatred fueled eyes, breathe, breathe, breathe!

You sit up quickly, coughing out golden blood before gasping for air desperately, coughing out again before regaining your composure, groaning from the metallic taste in your mouth, you looked down at your hand to see the lavender blue star Emily gave you, seeing that was your only comfort now, it was stained in gold blood as well as you winced in sharp pain behind your back, you look at your back to see a lot of damage was done to your wings, golden blood covered all your feathers as you can see the clear cut Sera did, she attacked your two middle wings as they now seemed split, it made your skin crawl from how horrible they looked, you then looked up to the sky, your stars were barely raining anymore stardust, trying to heal your injured state, they began to fade, if it weren’t for the sentient stars you made during the extermination, you don’t think you would have survived the fall.

You looked at your stars with a tired and weak smile before they could crumble away into dust, thankful that your creations saved your life, you then looked at your surroundings, seeing cities in the distance, followed with screams and cars crashing, you sat for a moment trying to endure the pain that was coursing through your body, you held a wing to ease the pain but all you felt was a wet liquid that now covered your hands, more blood. You needed to find help or something but who in Hell would want to help? Maybe you could try and find a place to stay or hide so you could focus on healing yourself, you didn’t have any attributes to regeneration, so you needed to try and find someone or something to stop the bleedings.

You recovered a bit of mana from resting but it wasn’t enough for you to completely focus on healing since you weren’t very good at it, you decided to try and finally get up but your body was so sore you stumbled a few times before you could manage to even stand, you slouched to your side, limping as you tried to walk out of wherever you even were.

You decided to try and seek help in the city, hoping there might be a blessed heart willing to assist you but just a precaution, you made a little bit of stardust and with Emily’s star she had given you, you made it sentient with the little bit of mana you had left, thankful for her gift and her warm comforting smiles.

The little star chimed to life, floating around you, it was your only sort of defense it wasn’t much but it can for sure pack a punch you wanted it to, you hugged yourself as you limped toward the city, a trail of golden blood dripping behind you as your wings dragged behind you. The lavender blue star floating next to you calmly.

Upon entering the city, you expected monsters and sinners to be in chaos but… no one was here. “Hello?” You called softly, walking into the city, the emptiness making you feel uneasy, the star chimed next to you for comfort, floating around you as it kept watch of your surroundings, “Is anyone here?” You called out again more loudly, “please, can anyone help me?” you begged, not receiving a single answer in the abandoned city.

You held yourself more tightly as you walked, leaving a trail of gold as you looked around, high and low, left and right, you’d hear a sudden noise but it the source or cause would be long gone before you could turn around, I guess it only makes sense seeing as you were an angel and it was extermination day to them, the lonely and uncomfortable silence made you feel like an outcast, something you were used to in a way but it still hurt nonetheless, tears formed from your eyes but you tried to not let them escape from how lonely you felt in your situation and once again, you feel completely helpless as you walked down the empty streets, the silence was completely loud.

You wiped your tears as you passed by stores, broken glass and blood, it really showed a difference between Heaven and Hell, it made you wish you were back in your bed for all eternity, it was better than the pain your were enduring currently. You passed by a store full of televisions, you looked at it- it being the only thing that was making noise in the silent city, you watched the screens as it showed a thin waisted lady in red, her voice loud and clear, “Greetings, my name is Katy Killjoy, here to discuss to you about last weeks extermination, after deep analysis and investigating, we can officially confirm it was canceled thanks to an none other than an Angel itself!” She says before it showed a video of you making it rain stardust in stars in Hell’s skies, dragging every exterminator back into Heaven, your eyes widened as you didn’t expect to be shown to all of Hell.

“And thanks to that, we now have more information about how our deadline is cut in half, down to six months! do you know what that means Tom?” She says as she turned to face him, giving him the chance to finally speak, “yes it-“ “it means we are completely fucked!” she shouts through the screen, your mouth agape from shock, Adam and Sera- despite trying to stop them, they decided to continue this meaningless chaos? the thought of Sera ignoring your words, your voice, it made your blood boil unexplainably, especially on how she tried to kill you behind Heavens back.

You were so frustrated and in so much pain because of her, it made you want to cry and lash out at her angrily but trying to kill her back, the thought of killing her made a smile crawl to your face but you shook that thought out immediately, it was not the answer. If you tried to use violence like she did, you were no different than her and that’s worse than the thought of her death. You snapped out of thought to look at the television again, it was another video of you, of how you fell from the sky, you stared in shock again, they really have their eyes on the skies don’t they? It was you falling practically to your death! but that made you realize, oh- they evacuated the city because you arrived.

That alone, made you realize how lonely you are now, no one was going to help you, familiar feeling eh? history just doesn’t seem to stop repeating itself with you. Your head began to ache as your stomach grumbled, all that stamina you had used was getting to you for sure now but there was nothing you could do, you didn’t have food, shelter or any help, there was nothing here in this place of damnation for you. You were pathetically helpless, at rockbottom, completely.

You wiped the tears that escaped, your lavender blue star pressing against your cheek for comfort, it chimed to you, trying to tell you something, you gave it it’s attention, floating toward the window full of televisions, “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, where all sinners are welcomed and redeemed, if you want to escape the extermination and get up into Heaven, please head to the building on the top of the hill in the pride ring.” A White haired woman spoke, with other figures who stood there and a glitched out man who was facing away from the screen which was quite concerning- but that wasn’t important, what was important was that they were willing to help and once again, that small sliver of hope reignited in you as you smiled to yourself weakly, you just had to go find that hotel, if they didn’t accept you then… maybe you could just live in a box? that thought made you shudder, not the box but the fact you would be out of luck.

You tried to find the hotel, quickly limping down the streets as you tried to find that said hotel, “Can you help me find it?” You ask your star as it chimed, swiftly floating up in the air, looking around, it wasn’t long before it went back down to you and started guiding you as followed, gold blood still following behind you, you tried your best to keep it together, try to make it to the hotel, it wasn’t much long as you panted heavily up the hill, once upon making it, you collapsed in exhaustion and pain, you sat at the door for a moment to recollect yourself.

It took awhile but the sentient star waited with you patiently and that was enough for you to get back up on your feet, you took a deep breath before knocking, stepping back from the door, hugging yourself in anticipation, shaking a little from exhaustion.

The door opened and you saw a tall blonde female, she looked down and gasped in surprise, “Welcome!- oh- oh my gosh, are you alright?” she says quickly, cutting her introduction off after seeing your terrible state, “Is… this the Hazbin hotel?” you ask politely and kinda desperately, “Yes, yes this is! do you need uh, do you need to come in for a moment? theres a trail of blood coming from you.” She pointed out with concern, “please.” You say weakly and nervously to the stranger in front of you, feeling completely light headed from the blood loss, you felt like you were going to faint any second.

“Oh goodness, just sit here for me okay? I’ll go get something real quick-“ she stammers before running back inside after making you sit and lean on to the door, you waited as you heard the same voice shout “Vaggie!” and “Emergency!” You rested your eyes as you leaned your head against the door, you began to hear static, and it got only louder the longer you had your eyes shut but as soon you opened your eyes the static disappeared, ‘that was weird’ you thought as the tall lady came back and immediately tended to your wounds with another person behind her, you backed away when the blonde tried to touch you, “Oh don’t worry, i’m just trying to help.” She says as she waited for your permission this time to tend to you, her smile was oddly calming and it let you give in as you slowly turned your back, allowing her to touch your wings, the purple female also assisting her, you winced in pain after some places they touched, a “sorry” escaping one of their mouths as they kept going, you all were silent the whole time before the blonde moved to sit in front of you, leaving the other lady to focus on your wings.

“My name is Charlie.” She smiled at you, reaching her hand out for you to shake, you looked up to her, her red eyes staring back at you, “Y/n.” You say as you took her hand to shake, “Nice to meet you, Y/n! Now if I may ask, why were you so injured?” She asked, you looking away, “Oh uhhh, I fell..?” You say not tell her the full truth, she tilted her head confused, “fell? fell from where?” she said confused, “Uhhmm, fromm.. Heaven?” You laughed coyly, as she gasped, “You’re fallen?” She says quietly, “I guess,” pausing now acknowledging that you were actually fallen now, “yeah, I guess so.” you finished, feeling a little ashamed.

“Vaggie, are you almost done?” Charlie asks as she looks over your side to see that she wrapped your last wing up, a tug was felt and you winced a bit, “Yup, finished.” She says after she tied the last knot, Charlie bend down to help Vaggie up before they both helped you up, “Thank you.. for helping me.” You say with a tired smile, your star bouncing on your head, “Oh who’s this little guy?” Charlie says pointing to the star that chimed, “Oh this one of my creations or like a child of mine, same thing.” You say as you put the star in your hand, “I could only make this one sentient because im so tired.” You say, your eyes obviously showed that to them, black circles and all, “Well we can give you a place to stay in the Hotel!” Charlie smiles as she walks in the building, you following after Vaggie but as soon as you stepped into the building, your exhaustion you endured collapsed all at once, making your face plant into the ground with a ‘plomp’

The stared at you in surprise, “Oh, she was that tired.” Charlie responds, walking up to you, “are you alright?” she asks as you just muffled a reply, “foof.” “Uh, what was that?” Charlie asks, turning you to the side, “food.” you say, falling back into place, “Oh, okay just one sec.” She says before getting up to running off, leaving Vaggie to watch over you, she crossed her arms as she stared at you, “So uhh, who’s dis?” A new voice spoke, “Fallen angel, probably same one from the extermination on the news.” Vaggie replied as someone spat out their drink of something, you didn’t bother to get up to look up who was talking, too tired to care, “the hell you mean the angel from da news?” the voice shouted as you heard something rapidly approaching your body but your tiny star pushed them back, launching whatever was going after you, “That thing just launched Niff across the parlor! why are you allowing angels into this place?” The voice shouts again, “Angel, look at her, she’s defenseless, well, except that thing.” she pointed to your star.

Your star stuck to your back, trying to move you but it ended up just dragging you across the floor as everyone silently stared, “Okay i’m back!” Charlie says with a plate of food, walking to you and giving it to you after your star dropped you to the floor again.

You raised your head, resting your arms as you ate on the floor, not caring who’s watching, she also gave you water and that made you feel all the more better, with something finally in your system you managed to sit up, looking up at your surroundings, seeing everyone stare at you in silence, “uhh, hi.” you say awkwardly, with a small wave, as one of then waved back at you.

“Are you feeling alright now?” Charlie asked as you nodded, “Yeah, I just really need to rest, if you would let me please?” You ask as she gave you a hand to help you up, you thanked her as you tried to pat down your tattered dress, it was completely stained with blood from sinners during the extermination and your own as well, “Maybe let’s get you cleaned up?” Charlie asks as she took your hand to help you up the stairs, Vaggie following, “We can introduce you to everyone else once you’ve recovered.” She offers as she guides you down a hall, taking you to a room that was themed with red and black, “you can rest here,” she says as she walks into the room, you following suit along with your star.

You sat on the bed before falling back into it, your sore body finally feeling that euphoric comfort of a bed for who knows how long, your small lavender blue star rested on your head as you stretched a little, feeling your muscles ache, it hurt so bad it felt so good, “Do you need spare clothing or anything?” Charlie asks, Vaggie standing at the front of the door to the room, “Yes, if you wouldn’t mind.” You say shyly, sitting up again, you weren’t used to such hospitality, “thank you.” You say genuinely, extremely grateful that you found this place in this upside down world, “It’s no problem, you just get some rest alright? Vaggie can you go get something from my dresser?” She says, Vaggie nodding and leaving the room.

“So, can you tell me what happened? about why you’re here perhaps?” She questions, trying to start a conversation in the meantime, waiting for Vaggie to return, “Oh.. that..” you say looking down, away from her gaze, “oh! you don’t have to tell me anything if you want to,” she says, seeing how your expression has changed, “no, its just- it’s kind of a lot? I’ll just cut it short.” You smile at her, waving off her sudden intrusion of a question, “long story short, I asked for for a job and my, err, ‘manager’ gave me one,” you say scratching your cheek, the thought of Sera made you itch, “it was the extermination and I was so shocked on how Heaven was allowing the people to slaughter, so I used up so much of my power to drag every exorcist back to Heaven, leaving a bit of healing, hoping some sinners would recover,” You say as you as you rub your shoulder, still feeling guilty about the lives you witnessed being lost from the angels attack, “I’m really sorry about that by the way,” you apologized on behalf of the angels, “I tried to talk to my leader and it just got.. messy.” you sigh, Vaggie walking back to the room with clothes in hand, Charlie held your hand into her own, making you look up her, her comforting and sympathetic smile made you feel at ease from your riled up stress and tension, “hey, its alright,” she says, trying to soothe your nerves, “i’m just surprised an angel actually went out of their way to stop the extermination, it’s a complete first for anyone in hell to witness,” She smiles again, “i’m really glad you did, it shows that maybe not all angels are as bad as they seem.” she finishes, Vaggie walking up to you both giving, putting the clothes next to you, on the bed.

Charlie stood up, taking Vaggie’s hand into hers, “We’ll leave you alone for now, feel free to join us when you’re ready.” she waves as she leaves the room, closing the door behind her.

You got up from the bed after she left the room, changing out of your tattered dress and robes, the clothes they gave you were kind of big on you, the shirt was maybe too big, it was like a short night gown on you but you weren’t complaining since it was comfortable, the pants didn’t even fit so you tossed them to the side along with your tattered dress, wanting to deal with it later, you jumped into the bed, sighing in relief again, you laid on your stomach as you hugged the the fluffy pillow, the coolness of the sheets making you feel relaxed, best feeling ever.

Your star chimed as it floated off your head again, it was telling you it was going to keep watch as you slept, that was enough for you as you quickly drifted off to sleep, hugging the pillow as comfort.

✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧

“look at that one, it looks like a duck!” Lucifer says under the oak tree, pointing to the clouds that drifted by, “Yeah, it does!” You say in awe, “that’s cause I made it be.” he giggles, showing you his pure golden light in his hands, you admired it as you giggled as well.

He laid in the grass as he continued to stare at the sky, his smile was so pure and full of life, “I’m so glad you came into my life, Luna.” He says before looking at you with adoration in his eyes, you stared back at him with a sparkle in your eyes, sitting up next to him, “everyone in my life thinks i’m a problem and avoids me cause of that,” he vents, looking back up at the blue sky, “and ever since you came along, everything just feels so… right.” he smiles, as you continued to stare at him with doe eyes, “I don’t think I could ask for anyone better, you are the first person to believe in me and my dreams for so long and I don’t think I want to lose you,” he says, sitting up and looking back at you, taking your hands into his own, “ever.”

You smiled at him comfortingly, “I don’t want to lose you either, Lulu.” you say as you look back into his eyes, you both stared into each other’s eyes, the silence between you was calm and comforting, “hey I know!” he says, brightening more from an idea, “lets make a promise,” he says, leaning closer to your face, “let’s promise each other that no matter what happens, we will stay together, we will help each other out in the time of need.” he says, pulling out hand in front of you, his pinky finger out, waiting for you to intertwine your finger with his.

You look down at his hand, back to him, you smiled more, “okay, I pinky promise.” you say as you brought your pinky out to hold into his, you both stared at each other with admiration for one another before he quickly pecked your forehead, leaving a warm kiss, your eyes widening in surprise at the sudden gesture, “I love you, my Luna.” he says, you felt your face heat up as he gave you a closed eyed smile, it became silent for a moment again before you spoke, “what’s a love?” you ask, breaking the silence as he looked at you bewildered, going back to smiling at you gently, “maybe one day, you’ll understand.”

✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧

Your eyes fluttered open, as you groaned from a nights rest, you laid there for a moment before sitting up, groaning from the soreness in your body, you rubbed your eyes as you looked around, beginning to remember where you were. Upon waking up, your lavender blue star chimed as you awoke, happy to see you awake, you put your hands together for your star to rest in your hands, “oh, hey there,” you smiled tiredly, as it floated down into your hand, your used a bit of your mana to make cosmic dust, feeding the little star as it began to glow brightly again, after feeding it, it went to rest on your hair, seeing as your aren’t completely defenseless anymore.

You say in the bed looking around again before turning to your dress, it wasn’t filthy or dirty anymore, it looked clean and new, curious, you shifted out of the bed and went to collect it, they must have cleaned this for you while you were resting, you smiled, thankful for that, seeing as walking around in a shirt and undergarments in public was rather… explicit and embarrassing.

You turned around in the, realizing there was another door in your room, you went to open it curiously, behind the door was a sink and a tub, a personal bathroom, you smiled about that, you can take a bath without any worries now. You went into the bathroom, locking the door, deciding to take the chance to clean the blood and grime that stained your body. You sat on the hem of the tub, your clothes and bandages discarded, you were now scrubbing yourself clean, trying to avoid your wings soaking into the water, after cleaning your body, you focused on your wings, trying your best to not make them sting in pain as much as they already did in the contact with water, you washed them carefully and delicately.

After your relaxing bath, you changed your set of clothes, careful to not hurt your wings that looked like an absolute mess, the feathers were everywhere but you didn’t really bother with them, you’d groom your wings when they were healed up enough, with that thought out of the way, you went to leave the room, walking past a dresser with a mirror, you halted for a moment, stepping back and looking at the glass, your reflection showing, your hair was absolutely frizzled, your eyes were covered with black circles, like you just put black eyeliner around your eyes, you looked like an absolute mess and thing is, you were, emotionally and physically.

You saw a brush on the dresser, you decided to try and brush your hair, trying to look a little more presentable, a small chair sat underneath the dresser, pulling it put to sit down, focusing on your tangles.

You sat the brush down, looking at your now somewhat more clean state, there was nothing to do about the bags under your eyes, so you would just have to let that go, you got up from the chair, pushing it back under the dresser and walking to the door, exiting the room.

You explored the vast empty halls, taking in the details the hotel had, heading down the hall to the lobby, recalling that Charlie said you could join them anytime when you were ready, when you turned the corner, you saw some of the demons gathered in the corner of the lobby, you stood there quietly observing the people who were doing their own things, after scanning around the room, you saw Charlie talking to Vaggie in the parlor, on a sofa, it wasn’t long before Charlie spotted you as well and waved, “Over here, Y/n!” she calls to you, getting up to walk toward you to the stairs, you smiled nervously as everyone’s attention turned to you as you walked down the said stairs.

“How are you feeling?” she asks after you took your last step down, “I’m feeling much better, thank you,” You replied with sincerity, “and thank you for your hospitality.” You say as you bowed a little in respect, “just to make sure,” a male voice spoke as you turned away from Charlie’s to follow the voice, “you ain’t here to kill us right?” a tall feminine male asks, approaching you. You were taken back by his question but it made sense for them to worry, seeing as angels were sent to slaughter the poor souls, “what? no, i’d never-“ you tried to explain, being cut off quickly, “seeing on the news, she was the one who stopped the extermination, I don’t think those are her ideals, Angel.” Vaggie deadpanned to him, defending you.

Charlie laughed awkwardly, “Before we go into details any questions or details, how about a few introductions?” She asks, seeing how the atmosphere quickly turned, she guided you to the parlor, calling everyone to gather around, “Okay, so we have a new uhh,” she pauses trying to think, “guest at the hotel,” She says pointing her hand toward you, you waving shyly, “This is y/n, she arrived here yesterday as we all know and saw but welcome her nonetheless.” she smiles, only you getting stares and glances, “And these are our staff and residents,” she says, showing you the other three that were there, “this is Husk! our bartender,” she pointed to a cat with wings, who only stared at the distance, unfazed, “this is Angel, who is our single resident aside from you,” she says, pointing to the tall male who only scrolled through his phone before smiling and waving at you, “this is Niffty.” she says, pointing to a short woman with one eye who was staring into your soul, she ran up to you quickly, “are you an actual angel? why do you have so many wings? do you casually just wear eyeliner like that?” she says, pointing out your darkened eye bags, intruding your space, you only smiled nervously at her, she was asking to many questions before you could answer them, “and lastly, this is Alastor,” she says as you look at a man covered in red she pointed at, you were surprised about the male since you hadn’t seen him at all until now, he looked at you with an intimidating and intense gaze, smiling at you, making you feel uncomfortable, “he is our facility host.” She says, clasping her hands together with a smile.

Alastor walked up to you with a cane and his hands behind his back before bending down slightly to greet you properly, “it’s a pleasure to meet you, dear.” He says, stretching his hand out for you to shake, his hands had red sharp like claws making you hesitatingly take it with a nervous smile, “pleasure..” you say, shaking his hand lightly, you got more nervous than before when you began to hear radio static coming from him, the same static you heard when you first arrived here.

“With that out of the way, I was wondering- since you’re an angel and all- what do you think about sinners and redemption?” Charlie asked as Alastor backed away, trailing off to do his own thing as Charlie began to speak to you again, “what do you mean?” you asked curiously, requesting she’d go into more detail, “Well as you see, I began this project a few days ago,” she says, sitting next to you, summoning a pile of paper before taking one in her hand to show you hand-made drawings.

“What I want is to save my people and I thought maybe if they were given a second chance they could be redeemed and go to Heaven,” she says as she points to the drawing but your mind trailed off as soon as she said, ‘my people’ “wait- wait-“ you tried to cut her off, “your people?” you asked, “uhh, yeah?” she answered, confused about your reaction, you then stared at her, noticing her facial features, red cheeks, white skin and blonde hair… Your heart began to twinge a little from the thoughts that began to bubble your mind, “What’s your name..?” You ask, hesitatingly, afraid to find your suspicions might be correct. “Charlie… Morningstar.” she answers, putting down the drawing to respond, your eyes widened as you leaned back from her for a moment before leaning toward her, “You’re Lucifer’s daughter?!” you shouted completely shocked and somewhat… hurt? You felt a pain that couldn’t be explained in your stomach.

“Yeah, my parents are Lilith and Lucifer Morningstar,” she states, answering the truth you tried to avoid for so long, you were just lost in thought as she began to ramble about then both, “and that is why they call me the princess of hell- oh, are you alright?” Charlie asks genuinely, seeing the hurt expression on your face, you snapped out of your thoughts as you shook your head, putting up a facade, “huh? yeah- yeah, I was just surprised, sorry.” you tried to exclaim, “I was just not told about any of this is all, y’know? since being in Heaven and all?” you tried to excuse, not really convincing yourself, Alastor gave a side eye to you, interested on how you were baffled from the mention of Charlie and her parents, “Where are,” you trailed off, hesitating to finish your next question, “your parents?” you asked, nervously.

Charlie looked away from you, thinking momentarily before speaking, “My mother has been gone for quite a while,” she says as she looks back at you with a tinge of sadness in her eyes, “she’s only been gone for like.. seven years now? but i believe she’s off on some sort of business trip,” She says as she tried to smile and wave it off like it wasn’t a big deal, “and my father… we don’t talk much.” she says as she hugs her arm, rubbing it slightly and awkwardly at the topic of her parents but to you, knowing that they don’t have much contact, it all just put your nerves at ease, you don’t think you could handle randomly seeing either of those two… ever.

You sighed, regaining composure, “sorry if I intruded on your personal life,” you apologize, looking at Charlie, “I uhm,” you paused, thinking if you should tell her anything about you, “you see, I used to be best friends with Lucifer,” you smiled, “and I am just happy to know that he’s alright.” You say with a half lie, you weren’t happy about him and Lilith, you never were and you never wanted to let him go like you did, like you had to.

Charlie smiled from surprise, “wait, are you Luna?” she asks, the name being said in so long, you felt rather uncomfortable with it, “I don’t really go by that name anymore but yes, I used to be..” You admit, trying to avoid saying the name yourself as it became more of a haunting of the past. She jumped in her seat on the sofa with a radiated smile, “my father told me so many stories about you when I was younger!” she says as she began to shake in happiness, “it’s so nice to meet you! I didn’t even know it was you!” she continues as she shook your hand suddenly, surprising you with her sudden enthusiasm, “he told me how you’re the daughter of the universe, the way you make stars and constellations align,” she began to ramble, “he even told me about the stars you make are always and are more beautiful than any other angel would ever create.” She smiles as she leaned in toward you with admiration.

You sat there with mixed feelings again, Lucifer said all this about you? the compliments she stated out made your heart flutter and you didn’t know why, surely he’d hate you by now after everything you did? the thoughts began to stress your mind and you just didn’t want to deal with them, you look down at the desk and remembered Charlies hotel project, so you decided it was best to change the subject, “I’m glad he seems to see me that way,” you smiled, “but how about you tell me about your project? I think we trailed off.” You stated, pointing to her drawings, she gasped as she picked up her paper drawing again, “that’s right! as I was saying before, I was thinking of maybe we could try and redeem sinners and try to bring them to Heaven! that way we can stop overpopulation in Hell,” she continued as you listened, taking a liking to her idea, “and if we find a solution to the overpopulation,” she says, bringing up another paper for you to see, “we can end all these exterminations and everyone will be smiling and happy!” she finishes as you smiled to her ideals, “So what do you think?” she asks as she puts down the drawing and looked at you eagerly awaiting your answer, “I actually think this is a great idea!” you say as you sit up in your seat eagerly, loving the idea of second chances, Charlie smiled more at your response as she squeed in excitement, having an angel finally agree on her passion project, “I’m so happy you believe in my cause!” she shouted in happiness, Vaggie smiling that someone else agreed who was the same as her.

“I was so upset when I found out extermination was allowed, it’s completely terrible as a whole.” you say as you leaned back into the sofa in distaste for the thought of ‘divine judgment’ amongst Charlie’s people, “So do I! None of them deserved what was given to them.” she says as she frowns, “I agree,” You say empathetically, “If you would let me, I’d like to stay and help with your cause.” You offered, Charlie smiling once again, “Really?” She asked with pure joy, “Yeah! I believe this could work!” You say with full confidence.

This made Alastor raise a brow at you and Charlie as he subtly listened in your whole conversation, he turned away with a ‘hmm’ as he thought to himself, he then shadowed up behind the sofa you and Charlie sat, nudging Vaggie away a little, “So we have a new staff member now?” Alastor smiled, Vaggie rolling her eyes at Alastor and walking around the sofa to sit next to Charlie, you blinked at him in surprised from his sudden join in on the conversation, “Yes we do!” Charlie says as she sat up, to gain everyone’s attention to announce you were now part of the crew, “everyone, everyone, I’d like to announce that we have a new staff member on our team!” She says as she points to you, they weren’t very enthusiastic as you had expected but not really expected them to but it really didn’t bother you since you preferred to avoid attention. Not to mention that Alastor had left the lobby before Charlie even began.

“We can discuss what you can do later,” Charlie says to you, before heading toward the middle of the lobby to pace around, “right now, what we need to do is discuss how we can try and bring sinners in,“ she began as Husk walked off to the green creepy area at the back of the lobby, drinking whatever green glass he held, “extermination is coming in six months instead of a year, it’s no big deal, just a little set back,” she says as a cat appears and follows her before jumping over to the sofa to sit next to you, you stared at it in surprise as it tilted it’s head at you, blinking its one eye and all you could process in your mind is- oh my stars its so cute.

You stared at the cat as it walked further to you, you didn’t want to move to touch it, afraid it might run off, she sat right next to you, you hesitated to pet it but it leaned into your touch and you never felt so much serotonin fill your body all at once, you pet her head gently as the kitty purred and you were squealing on the inside as you continued to pet her. You picked up the black cat, carrying her in your arms as you walked toward Charlie and Vaggie, “don’t you think if the next extermination deadline is sooner than expected, wouldn’t sinners be desperate?” you asked, while petting the cat in your arms, “yeah,” Vaggie thought, “maybe desperate enough to try and do anything to escape the extermination.” Vaggie spoke with a smile appearing on her face making Charlie gasp, getting the idea she was leading on, “this is the perfect time to recruit more sinners for the hotel!” she shouted, raising her arms in the air, you smiling as you thought the same as well, only to frown when the kitty jumped out your arms, feeling the world shatter again inside your soul.

“Cute idea and all,” Angel says, tapping through his phone, “but you really going to go out in all of this?” He asks, showing a video of demons screaming through the city with fire everywhere, “well, it’s not like people are just going to show up on our doorstep-“ she says before being cut off from a loud explosion, making you jolt in surprise, hiding behind Charlie and Vaggie.

Everyone ran outside to see what the ruckus was about, you following last, you weren’t sure what to expect being new in Hell and all but when you saw outside was a massive war machine and Alastor at the top of one of the hotels balcony, talking with the attacker who damaged one of the hotels walls.

Well, needless to say, your ‘first day’ in Hell was going to be quite the ride to your new step in your new fallen life but you couldn’t complain, it was much more freeing than it ever was in Heaven.

✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧

TAGGLISSSTT YIPEEE:

@ag-cookiebat800 @meow-meowo @kyo-kyo1 @darling-may-i @pink-apples001 @sparkleyfishies @mollzaj @glowymxxn @hyperkaiperrose

thank you for reading!!:!/!

AMERICA YA :D

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dunmeshistash · 2 months ago

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...how long does mana sickness last? for marcille it seemed like a game-ender for her, she seemingly couldn't recover in a week's time without drinking the undine, but mithrun just straight up is better in like. A day? An hour?(at thistles house) is he just built different? Maybe more offensive magic like marcille's explosions make it harder for you to recover?

In that case it wasn't mana sickness it was loss of magic power

"Couldn't recover in a week's time" she probably could! But they were rushing to save Falin, and they had to survive in the dungeon while she recovered, they already had a party that was too small and were getting deeper into more dangerous parts of the dungeon, they wouldn't have been able to keep going with Marcille not being able to fight that's why Laios wants her to go back

This is the timeline of events of this part, drained of magic on 3/22 and having to fight the dragon on 3/24 barely a day to rest, she would be in a weakened state in a deep dungeon floor and would have to fight the dragon (here's the timeline I'll be using if you want to check)

She even gets drained again after fighting Thistle, they fight thistle on 3/25 and by 3/28 when they find the Dryads she's still too weak to fight, but the next day (after a good meal) she's okay enough to fight the Cockatrice (she gets petrified but cant blame lack of magic it was lack of Laios)

Now for the Mithrun timeline, he faints from lack of magic after they eat the roasted walking mushroom and rest for a bit (I imagine he was already with low magic before from the floor one fight and then teleporting them around to stop the fall and overworked himself?) that was on 4/4

The next day he continues to be weak and faints just from teleporting them away from the wolves so he's still drained

The next day he's once again forced to use magic to teleport the griffin away, he manages not to faint but he's clearly still unwell

The day after that he doesn't need to use magic they just need to take a bath to get rid of the mushroom spores, and finally the next day they're rescued

So he first faints on 4/4 joins with the canaries on 4/8 and they only arrive at thistle's on 4/13 I believe. So he had at least 9 days from the first time he ran out, he was still VERY weak in the next few days after fainting which would be the situation Marcille would have been in for the Dragon fight if she hadn't eaten the undine.

He doesn't get drained after this does he? After fighting Marcille for the first time Kabru does say this, but he's not drained he's "on the verge"

After that Mithrun was "forced to rest" for a bit before fighting again so maybe not being fully drained and resting helped him have enough for that last hurrah when fighting Marcille?

Just checked their fight and he only uses magic to heal himself once and then one other time to teleport, even Marcille calls his bluff, that was probably his last drop now that I notice

But even with all that Mithrun is stronger than Marcille (The canaries are specialized in defeating dungeons after all they're all strong and used to combat), Kabru even mentions he has lots of stamina for an elf. They aren't really eating well these few days waiting for rescue so I imagine this contributes to why it took him a while to get better during that, he's also used to forcing himself to the extreme so even if he is almost running out in the Marcille fight he would force himself to the last drop (as he does)

Anyway, maybe it seemed like he recovered super fast during ch62 since it all happens in one chapter but it actually takes him a couple of days to get back to 100%

#ask #Mithrun #Long post #loss of magical power #magic system #dungeon meshi spoilers #major spoilers #dungeon meshi #Marcille Donato #I actually didn't notice how weakened Mithrun was when he went after marcille and died #delicious in dungeon

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rennybu · 5 months ago

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AAAAUHG.. so many things come to mind so i will start with... i like to imagine he and Fenris are the same height :') (5'11"). This got a bit long but i'm always happy to talk about this guy!!!!!!!!! @trebuchet151

he's got a big garnet signet ring with the Amell family crest carved in it, and that's about the only recognizable thing that denotes his lineage... he has always liked stamping wax seals on letters with it!!! he's a ring guy generally, he likes mixing and matching stones and metal.

his hands are very scarred and rough from reckless casting, and especially casting fire magic without a staff (in a pinch).

He has a heart tattooed on his ring finger for Fenris :') their wedding was very. Andraste as the witness, on the road, impulsive. Vows for themselves, nothing legally binding. Fenris has a plain gold band on a red cord somewhere on his person at all times.

his testosterone is taken via oral tincture, some kind of oil solution he takes drops of daily. like a mild and highly personalized potion recipe! it's the only reason he sometimes needs a home base or shop to set up in, to prepare a big batch. He stores it in little glass vials he collects from trinket shops. Malcolm found the recipe for him after he came out in his tweens.

Bethany is kind of sainted in his mind, when he's exasperated or stunned he might utter an "oh Bethany" (in the tone of "are you seeing this shit") rather than an "oh Maker"

He struggles a lot with empathy, in that he frequently can logically recognize when he should feel for another person's situation, and yet finds himself unmoved. He will deliberately go out of his way to care for others, sometimes more than is needed, to try to make up for what he perceives as a personal flaw. This is how he ended up like a wrung out mouldy rag, emotionally, by the end of DA2.

His spell class is fucking terrifying, he has a lot of mana and not much hp, but is really reckless about his reserves. He combines force magic with fire magic, trapping foes and incinerating them, and sometimes leaving himself winded in the wake of too much magical exertion at once.

he's pretty spry and strong but doesn't have a great constitution. He tires out quickly in fights, hence trying to end them explosively and quickly.

Was briefly stalked by a sloth demon, perhaps around Act 2, and passed a very "get off my doorstep" homebrew harrowing as a result. Burnt it out of his shadow and got some spring back in his step, around roughly the same time he recognized his feelings for Fenris, settled into his role as Hawke within Kirkwall, etc. He Killed Dysphoria, Forever!!!

His love for Merrill makes him very "blood magic is okay", he loves her worldview and wisdom about its use, but his upbringing prevents him from extending that grace to himself. He was forced to use blood magic in his duel against the Arishok in order to survive it!!! Angst. Hates himself quite badly for this. Until Merrill is like "why are you special" and he's like ooohh. I get it

We all kno Hawke goes thru hell but I love reflecting on Orson's arc from early family life to Now/post-DA:I, he found closure among his friends and family and was able to fully remove himself from a public leadership role and is doing much better for it. He's a bit of an anarchist i guess, jack of all trades with a pretty rigid set of personal morals that sometimes forces him to act outside the law. He's very grey market, hard to contact, arrive in the nick of time.

He and Fenris do not ever shut up around each other. Two dudes who talk about fuck all, very intelligently. If you see Fenris in the wild, Orson is probably around, too. They love hunting Venatori and only sometimes get in the way of other spy/subterfuge activities.

he smells like BRITTLE sun-baked wood, with a hint of oily herbal medicine.

#aart #orson hawke #fenhawke #da2 #dragon age 2 #THANK U ASH.. rotating orson in my mind from age 12 to 45. loml

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trans-rites · 14 days ago

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Compleation, from Surgery to Paint Job

So like, in Scars block and before, Phyrexian oil is depicted as having several consistent properties. First among them is infection. This has been consistent throughout all of the oil's history in magic. Another is transformation. Phyrexian oil is actually a soup of nanobots that take the place of your bodily fluids, and in doing so, form a link to the oil's group consciousness.

Note that I didn't say hivemind. See, your mind remains, however changed. The oil doesn't puppeteer you (and if that does happen, you can probably blame Sheoldred. Sorry, Venser.) What it does instead is fill your mind with echoes of Phyrexian history, from as long ago as Yawgmoth and even before. In this way, you* remain. Only, you aren't quite the only thing in your body anymore.

*(I admit that in some depictions, Phyrexians are portrayed as mindless puppets—but in others, some self survives. What do we get from that? Up to you, but to my mind, it means either that it varies, or that those stories are from the perspectives of assholes. Or both.)

POV: You're Ashnod, and your boss is getting even worse lately Art by Jeremy Wilson

Still, whether you think Phyrexians are the people they were (or even people at all), one thing is inarguable: phyresis itself isn't compleation. Rather, the sickness compels you to seek compleation, like a salmon swimming upstream when it knows its time is soon.

Or at least, that's how it was.

So What's Compleation Then?

Well, pre-2023, compleation was the 'end point' of Phyrexian growth: the imago of the life cycle, a complex surgical process whereby your body would be transformed. Repurposed. Your skin may be replaced, or plated with metal sheets; your viscera filled with tubes and cables for more efficient transmission of fluids.

(Notably, if you happened to be a robot beforehand, compleation would often involve grafting flesh and bone to your already-metallic skeleton. Phyrexians are liminal creatures.)

Another truth: among incompleat Phyrexians (organisms born directly from the oil, or those infected by phyresis), compleation was an honour, a sign of maturity and rank. Only for enemies of Phyrexia is it a punishment.

After ONE though, there's (ironically) more just one answer.

Rona, Sheoldred's Faithful by Ryan Lee, a.k.a. 'easily one of my top five ways to wake up.'

See, ONE (and DMU before it) changed up a lot of New Phyrexia's art style. Gone were tattered, broken dolls like Shattered Angel, replaced with Elesh Norn's new 'mommy bait' design (Have you seen how she gets less 'gross' and more 'MILFy' with every new piece of art?)

Worse though, in my mind, is what happened to compleation. In ONE story chapters, Nahiri's hands just sort-of... turn into swords after her exposure to the oil. Meanwhile Jace, after being infected by a black Phyrexian of all things, begins developing Surgical Bay-esque stalks. Why? It's not like Phyrexia can't turn flesh to metal (read: Memnarch), but never like this.

Yes, there's excuses. Yes, Jin-Gitaxias launched a software update through the oil. And yes, it's possible to theorize ("Jace's blue mana caused changes in him common among blue phyrexians," "Norn's fear of flesh caused a design shift in Orthodox phyrexians," "Nahiri's arms just did that.") But I don't think we should have to bend over backwards justifying what to me reads as plain inconsistency.

And Boy Is It Inconsistent

Because there are recent cards like Vivisurgeon's Insight (Adam Burn), Evolved Sleeper, and the above Rona that honour previous depictions of compleation and phyresis! But—with no disrespect intended to the brilliant art and talented artists—cards like Furnace Reins (Brian Valeza), the story articles mentioned above, and heck, most of the March of the Machine card gallery do the opposite.

I mean, what's even happening in Furnace Reins? Urabrask's new black and red Gundam aesthetic is spreading over that minotaur like a mold! Where is that metal coming from?!?!? Or is there mycosynth making it that I just can't see? Am I going crazy? And am I wrong for being disappointed when story articles describe 'peeling off' Nissa's metal plates to reveal basically undamaged skin underneath? She's not even bald anymore.

Please don't mistake me for hating Magic story. Believe me, I couldn't write this essay if all I felt was hate. Magic has me climbing the walls with how much I care about it. But oh my god, do I get the feeling that not everyone at WotC feels the same way.

This is hardly a call to action, and certainly not a request to further harass anyone who works at Wizards. What it is is a composition of my thoughts and feelings on a subject I'm desperately passionate about, and the suggestion that you check out some Magic story that still very much deserves to be read. Places like MTG Lore are a great place to do that. You should also check out Transformation, Horror, Eros, Phyrexia, a friend's essay that I still think about regularly.

Thanks for reading. And remember, there's nothing normal about liking Phyrexians...

#mtg #magic the gathering #vorthos #phyrexia #new phyrexia #all will be one #march of the machine

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ancha-aus · 4 months ago

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DoubleNoot AU Drabble - A New Day

Welcome back to another installment! this time we see the new family getting used to their new family member and taking small steps to get comfortable int heir new normal.

Last Time on DoubleNoot Adventures! Nightmare took a moment to think about what is going on and how he feels about it. Only for him and Killer to have a conversation as the others slept before slowly waking up.

*-------------------------*

Corrupt is happy to see Nightmare comfortable in his tendril. Safe and sound and by the looks of it he seems well-rested.

Which makes Corrupt happy as it means he truly did feel safe enough to let himself rest.

Killer grins at him "Morning Moonlight."

Corrupt notices two of his mates already awake and chuckles "Morning you two." he makes sure to nuzzle both before looking at them and Nightmare at the same time. "How did you all sleep?"

Nightmare mutters a soft reply that he slept okay while Killer and Dust tell him they slept great as always.

Corrupt smiles as Horror gives asleepy mutter. Dust is quicker though as he leans over and kisses him as he sends a spark of magic to Horror.

Horror is immediantly more awake and mutters a soft thank you as Dust just shrugs.

Nightmare looks at Corrupt shocked as Corrupt looks at Horror "Horror? Are you okay wiht me explaining things to Nightmare?"

Horror blinks and looks over before nodding "Of course." a bit softer "Sorry for worrying you there. I am alright." with that said he nuzzles Dust again before giving both Killer and Corrupt their own nuzzles. "I was thinking eggs."

Killer looks excited "Oh i can help wtiht eh chickens!" and he gets out of bed together with Horror and the two walk off.

Ngihtmare looks at him anxiously "What is... is he okay? was he sick?" he rubs his hands together. Corrupt makes sure to make his tentacle into his hold and Nightmare starts kneading that instead.

Corrupt makes sure to keep his voice a bit down. Bot for Nightmare but also for Cross. Seeing as he is still asleep Corrupt thinks he overdid it the day before.

Corrupt starts to explain softly "Horror has a few physical conditions that we need to keep an eye on. We have this under control so you do not have to worry about it. The foremost one is his injury on his skull. It can cause him migraines and will always be sensitive." Not to forget that Horror is more sensitive to light. He can however see through camouflage which is helpful.

"Further his soul has gone through an starvation. If we are unable to take energy from food a monsters body will start going into survival modes. Which is when they won't make any magic or mana and store any magic left. This stored magic will be reused over and over again to make the monster able to move."

Ngihtmare frowns as he keeps looking at him. Waiting.

Corrupt sighs sadly "It is why his skull never healed. His body did not have the energy or magic available to heal. And the longer the starvation lasts the more consequences there are once a monster exists these survival modes."

Corrupt smiles "After we made him able to eat more and rest his body slowly started to recover and go out of survival mode. Sadly we noticed quickly he was unable to use magic aside from very minimal things. Furthermore we found out his body can no longer efficiently gain magic and mana from food and energy. Leaving him with the ened to eat very regularly to make sure his body has what it needs."

Mostly it is to make sure that his body doesn't get stressed and starts reusing the same magic again which can cause even more complications now that his body isn't saving energy and magic.

Nightmare frowns as he glances at the door "And a long ngiht is rough?"

Dust shrugs as he mutters "Not always. But some mornings his magic is a bit slower with waking up and becoming active. It is quicker and healthier for him to give him a little boost over letting his magic stress itself out."

Nightmare frowns as he gives a slow nod "and the.... kiss was giving this magic?"

Corrupt nods "It was. It doesn't need to be a kiss however. that is just Dust's personal preference."

Dust shoots him an unamused look but doesn't go against it. Probably because he doesn't want to explain he and Hroror found out on a mission that Horror can also get these moments and at the time they hadn't known a simple spark could be used.

Instead Dust had to quickly eat rations to partly transform it intt magic before transferring it to Horror.

This was well before they all started dating. Neither of them had been too excited about having to explain this situation in their reports.

Nightmare gives a slow nod "Oh.... okay... and he is okay?"

Dust nods "Horror is fine. He is though." he glances to the side.

Corrupt follows it and chuckles as he sees Cross look up confused as he yawns. Corrupt chuckles and mutters a soft "good morning" before giving his skulla kiss.

Cross stares confused before shooting upright "It is already morning?! I need to go train!"

Dust yawns lazily "You will miss breakfast if you do that now."

Cross looks annoyed at Dust "Why didn't you wake me?!"

Dust looks bored at him "Because you were once again hiding the fact you were exhausted. It was time for a long nap for you. after breakfast we can work out together."

Cross grumbles but doesn't go against it.

Nightmare is watching the interaction curiously as Corrupt just holds him clsoe in a little bundle of tentacles.

Corrupt hums "Dust is right. We will miss breakfast which will saddens Horror. After breakfast we can look through what you and Killer collected for Ngihtmare?" he offers it.

Cross immediantly looks more excited about that idea nad easily agrees as he gets up. Dust sighs but follows thier mate.

Leaving Nightmare nad Corrupt alone. Corrupt looks at the young skeleton "How are you feeling?"

Nigtmare seems to think for a moment before answering "I am... okay? I feel rested but... stuff aches?" he traces some of his bones through the soft sleeping shirt "Even when i know the wounds are gone it still hurts..."

Corrupt frowns and studies the bones Nightmare offers up for inspection. Corrupt gentle touches and presses against the bones but there are no flinches or any signs of pain.

There isn't... until Nightmare moves his own arm and his face pitches.

Corrupt frowns "We will need to look into that... first some food. Maybe your body jsut eneds more energy... Then we can ask Cross nad Dust."

Ngihtmare lets Corrupt pick him up and carry him out "Why them?"

Corrutp speaks as he brings them downstairs to the breakfast nook "Cross is out main healer. He has healing magic you see. Dust however knows the much about it even if his magic can't heal. Before Cross joined us he was the one who took care of us if we got hurt."

Ngihtmare blinks "oh... oh! is that why Dust knew what to do to help Horror at that mission?"

Corrupt nods and smiles "indeed. It is why i paired them up on missions. Both are very strong and compliment each others prefered fighting style in case of emergencies. But in the end Horror's skull could cause complications and Dust would be the best to send with him just in case." and it proved to be the correct choice as Dust managed to save Horror's life because of this knowledge.

They get to the breakfast nook and see the table already set and the others all seated.

Corrupt takes his seat and after a moment decides to just keep Nightmare in his left and arms. It is more stable for him and Corrupt just wants to be sure he is stable with his bdoy being sore.

His mates shoot him amused looks but don't mention anything.

horror serves the food and Corrupt is happy to note that Horror already seemed to have eaten a bit by the sight of the dirty plate. Corrupt shoots hima look but Horror waves him off. Clearly his larger mate feels fine.

Corrupt checks the food and spots eggs and omeletts all laid out for them. They all have glasses of milk set before them and fresh orange juice.

Corrupt thinks for a moment before figuring it out. Eggs for proteins but not too intense of a taste and an easy place to start with. ommelettes for the same reason but with some extra greens and vegetables in them. Milk to help boost their calcium and orange juice for much needed vitamins.

Corrupt smiles and shoots Horror a thankful look but Horror jsut give s gentle smile and a shake of his skull as he fills up his plate again.

Corrupt fills up his and Ngihtmare's shared plate and he starts helping and encouraging Ngihtmare to taste the food. His face lights up at the taste of the eggs and Corrupt smiles as Nightmare focusses on the different tastes and flavours.

Breakfast is spend talking about the plans for the day and if they need to do any trips to get anything. Horror mentions that they will be fine for food for a few weeks longer as their hens and gardens are growing beautifully. Ngihtmare feels intrigued about these but doesn't ask any questions.

Horror is about to clean up but Corrupt stops him "Let me."

Horror looks unsure as he sends him a look "You are busy."

Corrupt smiles "I will manage. You ened to rest. Go to the couch." the others will get the bags with Ngihtmare's stuff unpacked as Corrupt cleans. Horror doesn't deny it or challange it as he makes his way to the living room.

Nightmare frowns as he looks around "I... i don't think i can help... sorry."

Corrupt smiles at him "You don't need to." as he holds Nightmare in his arms as his tendrils clean everything around them. Moving things around and putting them in the dishwasher.

Ngihtmare stares in awe and Corrupt has to at least stay slightly focussed as he moves things around.

He does take the time to transfer Ngihtmare to his tentacles as he takes the time to wipe any surface down with his actual hands. Making sure he got every spot.

With the kitchen and breakfast nook clean he moves himself and nightmare to the living room.

The bags are paid out unto the table and Corrupt smiles. There is a pile of clothes and other necessaries. Further there are a few piles with books. He can spot some puzzles and drawing supplies.

Nightmare is shocked as he stares and can't seem to take everything in fast enough.

Corrupt gets them comfortable adn Killer takes the lead easily as he starts talking about what they found and which things the broguth back.

Almost all the things they brought back fits Ngihtmare just fine. the few exceptions are a bit too big and Corrupt hopes nightmare will grow into it nicely.

They make sure to test if the jacket fits him all right. Msotly because if they want to take him outside they want to be sure he is warm and comfy.

Nightmare stares in awe at the many books and is quick to hug the fiction books near. The cover shows a cat and something about warriors. Corrupt just knows tha tKiller picked it out.

They continue lookign through it all and Nightmare is overwhelmed. WHcih is why corrupt pauses the moment and check in on him "Are you okay? we can take a break if you want... it is a lot of new information."

Corss nad Killer look slightly embarrassed as they mentioned they got excited getting stuff for Nightmare.

Nightmare looks so unsure as he rubs his hands together "You didn't... need to... i didn't mean... i don't want to be... difficult... or a burden... or..." he looks down as he shakes lightly.

Corrupt remembers of course. the villagers always taking the few things Nightmar ehad. destroying his things and then telling dream that nightmare just lost it and look aren't they nice for replacing it?

Corrupt picks him up and holds him close "These are yours. you deserve to having nice things and to be able to enjoy them. we can make a corner and get a cabinet to keep your new things safe and in a spot where you can easily get them."

Ngihtmare rubs his sockets. Feeling embarrassed as he nods. Corrupt makes sure to keep him close as they all encourage him to pick a few things he wants to keep with him to play and relax with. Nightmare ends up jsut picking one of the books. All the othr stuff they makes sure is safely on the coffee table as they promise they will take the time together to look for a cabinet he likes and a spot he likes his stuff.

The clotehs they put in a drawer in Corrupt's room for now. Until a bit more time has passed and Nightmare feels safer. Then they can look into getting him his own room.

For now?

They move towards the training room togehter. Killer, Dust and Cross wish to work out and Corrupt likes to watch them.

And maybe after seeing them move Nightmare will feel a bit saver and a bit mroe protected.

*-------------------------*

Next part

#utmv #DoubleNoot #doublenootAU #nightmare sans #deaged nightmare #dadmare nightmare #dust sans #killer sans #cross sans #horror sans #These drabbles are going to contain so much fluff?!#Like. all the fluff?!#So much of it :D

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