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feninina · 1 year ago

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𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐞 ༉‧₊˚.⁀➷

therapist! jonathan crane x female reader.

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: when your father decided that you needed therapy, taking you to his dear friend dr. crane to treat and help you, you thought it wouldn't work at all, but it turned out to be everything you needed.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: SMUT(minors dni!!), noncon/dubcon, depression, cursing, crane is a mysoginistic prick, using therapy for unhinged reasons, smut, hair pulling, jonathan just being an creep, choking AND strangulation, dacryphilia, hitting, unprotected sex (safe sex its great sex!!), breeding kink, forced breeding, power dynamics, i think crane should be a warning himself, reader being borderline stupid and naive. also this has a lot of backstory i’m so sorry i got carried away lol.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 7.1K

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: omg my first fic on here!! this is also my first work on english and my first smut ever so i apologise in advance for any mistake!! i hope y'all enjoy it anyways ahahahaha live laugh love jonathan crane👏🏻 feedback its very appreciated so i can improve and continue to publish better works, anyways enjoyyyy 💓

𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁

It was awkward, to say the least.

You were sitting across from Doctor Crane in the couch at your dad's house, legs crossed as you watched him write on his clipboard, something about it making you feel anxious, a little nauseous, even.

This wasn't your first session, you started doing this four months ago, not long after your divorce that caused you to fall into a spiral of sadness and misery. Your failed— and short marriage was the main reason you started taking therapy with your dad's friend, the chief of Arkham, Jonathan Crane, and still, you couldn't bring yourself to talk about it.

He was patient, you told him several times that he was a saint. Regardless, before you started with the sessions, he explained to your dad that he didn't really do this; therapy really wasn't his strong suit, but for a friend, a desperate one, he would gladly do it.

Your dad came to him, offering a big stack of money if he would talk to his little girl, make her recover her once joyful personality, like you had one to begin with. Jonathan really couldn't say no, and not really because of the money, he had other reasons in mind, unethical reasons.

And there you were now. You were quick to open up to him, eager to talk, to be listened and he, on the other hand, was ready to listen, to give you advice, console you and help you get through the sorrow that was following you since you were young, playing the role of your knight in shinning armor.

"I can't believe you don't actually do this" you said once, sniffling your nose with a handkerchief he gave you as he examined you with a warm gaze, an empathetic grin on his face. "You're really helping me"

Jonathan was quick to wave his hand and tell you that it wasn't a big deal, that he was just doing his job, and if you weren't so innocent, so stupid, you would have noticed the mischievous sparkle that flickered in his eyes for a split second.

You were landing right in the palm of his hand.

Not even thirty minutes into the first session you told him everything about your past; every little thing you thought he needed to know to treat you. And you were slightly right; he did need to know those things, but not to treat you, just to manipulate you and mold your little brain into what he was envisioning for you and your future together.

Truth was, you hated everything about your life, regardless of the fact that you had everything. That's what you've been told since you were a child; a big house, a lot of money, maids taking care of you so you wouldn't have to move a finger and just sit pretty and relax inside the walls of the huge mansion that confined you since you could recall.

You have everything. That was bullshit.

Sometimes, you couldn't help but think that people told you that out of pity, like they knew how miserable you felt, but not daring to say a word about it. Your dad was a powerful man, and you were aware of that, ever since you were born, he had bussines with Falcone and you knew that people feared him, he practically ruled Gotham, that lifeless and dangerous city that you had to live in.

You have everything. You were tired of that sentence. You didn't care at all about these nice things surrounding you, those dresses in your closet, those diamonds in your jeweler, that fancy car you owned since your eighteenth birthday, no, that was useless in your eyes, because all you really wanted, was love.

It was a lonely life; you learned how to do everything by yourself, how to comb your hair, how to deal with your period when it first came, how to dress up properly and do your makeup. You didn't even had to learn about boy problems because there weren't any boys in your life, you were homeschooled. So you were quiet, not really having to talk at all, there was nobody to talk to.

And since Jonathan was the only person you were talking to at the moment, you started to feel like you loved him, the idea sitting right with you without you even knowing it, thinking that this was how therapy normally went.

Loneliness striked your life at a young age; your mother died from a strange disease when you were eight, leaving you with a shattered heart thad bled everytime you walked past her bedroom, or saw a picture of her. You practically watched her die, a witness of how she lost her strength, how her once beautiful skin turned pale and yellow, and lost every little spark within herself, and the worst part was that all the money you had, couldn't even help her.

It was a deep wound that you carried with yourself, with nobody to talk about it.

Your father spent his days locked up in his office, and when he wasn't there, he was out in the city doing unthinkable things that you didn't even wanted to know about, leaving you on your own, having to fill all of those silent and empty rooms by yourself, with nobody to laugh with, nobody to hold you and see you grow. He wasn't really around, working all the time, too busy to know that his daughter didn't seem to care about all the expensive stuff he bought for her, not even taking the time to have dinner with you or hold a simple conversation. He loved you, you knew that, he just wasn't the type to show his affection with words or actions, but with gifts. And you hated everything about it.

But now, Jonathan was there, making you feel listened, finally saving you from falling into loneliness again. Your whole life, you thought you had a horrible sickness, that you were doomed to this awful destiny of sorrow and silence, but now, with his sweet words and good company, you couldn't be more than relieved.

You wished sometimes that you met him earlier, that this whole therapy stuff started before, and you even confessed it to him. And it irked him a little, that you didn't even remember how you two really met each other, hiding his annoyance with a warm smile.

Some months ago, your father started to brought you to parties he attended, parties were all the corrupts scumbags from Gotham reunited and celebrated how they were dragging the city to the gates of hell on their benefit, and you couldn't be more happy to attend them. You knew he was bringing you because he recently broke up with the young girl he carried with him— that was most likely your age, and needed a pretty thing to hang of his arm and take care of the people he didn't feel like talking to.

So you accepted this new life, eating up this role of socialite like it was made for you.

It was a chance to know people, to speak and make new friends, but you learned quickly that those people weren't there for that, and picked up on how mostly of the people who talked to you just wanted to climb up the social ladder and gain some extra points from your father.

He, even, introduced you to a couple of people that seemed close to your age, and you chatted with them, feeling extremely anxious because you weren't used to this, so it was weird to them seeing such a pretty woman, with your status and fortune, acting so shy and quiet in a place that your dad practically owned.

After a couple of hours, you learned the agenda. All you had to do was put on a fake smile, get them off your father's shoulders and pretend you were very interested in what they had to say, hiding your uncomfortable expression behind your glass of champagne, promising them that you would arrange a reunion with your father someday.

One of those nights, your father introduced you to someone, someone who you didn't pay much attention because he seemed to be uninterested too, only being there for the sake of his job.

"Pretty girl, come here" your father said, a cheerful tone of voice as grabbed you by the shoulder to get your attention, snapping you out of your train of thoughts. "I want you to meet my friend, Doctor Crane"

You looked at the man in front of your dad, his pale blue eyes already sizing you up discretely, looking at you up and down in a way that didn't go unnoticed by you, a shiver running down your spine as his eyes finally locked with yours.

You couldn't help but feel small under his gaze, your glass now forgotten in your left hand, the right one extended to take his and stretch it for a quick second, returning to your first position, his expression remaining serious.

"Nice to meet you" he spoke, his voice sounding like velvet in your eyes, not quite sensing the undertone behind it. "Your father told me wonders about you"

You grin, the irony of that sentence making you laugh a little, what wonders could your father know about you? But you kept your composure, the conversation not going any further, and you forgot about him fast enough, when in another of those annoying parties you met the love of your life — or so you thought.

That same night, when you went back home, you were thinking about spending the rest of your life with some guy that flirted with you at the bar, and Jonathan, prayed to whatever thing listening to him up there, that crossed your path with his again.

He practically obsessed with you, because it felt right. You were young, beautiful, wealthy and had a last name that could open even more doors for him, getting tired of saving Falcone's man of going to jail; you were an opportunity, tied to a nice pair of legs.

After a few weeks of stalking, it kinda broke his heart that naive as he expected you, you got married to the guy from the party; he told you then his name was Lewis, and now you doubted it that was even true.

You were finally going to get what you always wished for, a family, love. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect.

It was a dream that you were living in. A dream that shattered in front of you no longer than three months after.

After you contracted married with this man, you took care of the house, now learning all of these housewife duties that you didn't know anything about, but making your best effort to please him, to be the perfect woman ever created, departing from your old life and habits and adjusting them to his own.

You couldn't be more happy, regardless of your bad cooking, the bad-swiped floor and the half-done bed that welcomed you both every night, you finally had love.

It lasted three months. Your wholesome real life fantasy of a marriage destroyed when you found out, accidentally, that this man was just an employee of your dad, willing to get a promotion if he married you. At that moment, you didn't know who you hated more, if the bastard, or your dad who was literally bribing the bastard to love you.

But your dad only wanted to make you happy, tho.

You were embarrassed, not quite sure of how to tell this to Jonathan, because after all, he was there for you, just for the money your dad was paying him. Your cursed the day your dad became rich, because all of it was making you miserable and it felt like it wasn't going to stop.

At this point, a feeling of despite against you was growing within Jonathan, after a few weeks treating you, he quickly remembered why he didn’t chose this path of career, but remembering that he was there because of a major reason; a reason more important than your helpless cries for attention.

He was sick of you, all you ever did was complain in the commodity of your million dollar house, unaware that there were more important problems in the world. It isn’t completely your fault, Jonathan thought one day, you were just an ungrateful brat, and his work was to tame you, and he planned to do just that today.

"So," he startled you, narrowing his eyebrows, an expression in his face that you could only understand as concern. "remember, if you don't speak, I can't help you".

You chuckle and shift your weight in the chair, immediately feeling your eyes fill up with tears as you confronted the fact that you had to speak about it, right now. He was quick to offer you his handkerchief, as he always did and with shaky hands you took it, sniffling onto it, closing your eyes as you felt your whole body shake with each one of your cries.

You felt Jonathan put his hand on your knee, softy caressing the skin that his thumb could reach, opening your eyes and looking at his, Jonathan welcoming you with a pitying look. You put the tissue aside, both him being so close and his scent impregnated on the piece of fabric making you feel a little giddy, a little confused.

Why was your heart racing so much? He was your therapist, here to talk about your former husband.

Jonathan couldn't help but grin a little, knowing he was maybe breaking a rule here, touching you like this, being so close. He couldn't care less, after all, he wasn't here listening to you cry and bitch about your whole life for the sake of your well-being. He was here because he wanted you to break and get on your knees to him. Figuratively and literally.

"It's so embarrassing" you struggled to spit out "He didn't even love me, Doctor"

He hummed, dragging his chair so he was a little closer to you, you looked at him through your teary lashes and tried to keep it together, this wasn't the first time you cried in front of him, but the reason itself was enough to make you feel full of shame.

He didn't say anything, this being a motivation for you to continue.

"My dad was paying him" you murmured, cleaning the mascara off your cheeks. "It was all a lie"

The whole situation was absurd, what happened to you still felt like a sick joke they were playing on you, your dad and Lewis, probably waiting for the perfect moment to tell you the truth.

But that wasn't going to happen, right now the only thing that felt true to you was Jonathan. He set you up to that, and you blindly fell on his silly trap.

"Poor thing" he cooed you, moving his hand a little further up your thigh, noticing the goosebumps on your skin. A mastermind, that's how he felt. "How could they?"

That was all the mendacity he fed you with since you started seeing him, making you believe he was actually empathizing with you, full of loathe against everyone who hurt you, who dared to leave you alone, but now he was there, his task being to pretend to care.

"It's pathetic" you blurted out, leaning into his touch when his prying hand went up to your cheek. You really couldn't say anything more, crying against his hand like it was something you did every monday morning. "I'm so sad. I don't know what to do"

He shook his face, your eyes meeting his with a confused expression, black stained tears dropping on your lap and wetting his hand before he returned it and looked over his clipboard, pretending to think.

You were so vulnerable, ready for him to destroy. He finally got you where he wanted. He then explained you that you were so sad that it made you unaware of a lot of things, blinded by your own pity against yourself that every door that opened, you closed. It all came down to a thing; you needed a diagnosis.

He gave you a moment to process the information, ready to continue with his plan.

"Actually," he started, his tone now more firm, more strict, the one he used when you were approaching the end of the session. On the last one, he recommended you to touch yourself, to liberate oxytocin on your brain or something you really didn't understood.

It was almost evil from his side, he knew that your only thought while doing it would he him ordering you to do so.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of such awful news, Y/N" he stated, making your heart skip a beat. "But I think you're sick"

You nearly gasped, the air got stuck in your throat, more tears gathering in your eyes. You lifted one of your hands to your chest, a million thoughts crossing your head as Jonathan's clever eyes examined your expression.

Bingo.

"Sick" you repeated after a moment, almost like you were making peace with the revelation. "How sick?"

It was an innocent question, your tone of voice shaking as your inferior lip trembled, holding it with your teeth in an attempt to not burst into tears again, your whole body feeling like it was going to break into a million peaces by how much you were shaking in the couch.

Jonathan was quick, standing from the chair he was on and taking a seat by your side, his hand swiftly placing in your knee. You looked at him confused, he never got this close, maybe your sickness was serious.

"What am I, Doctor?" you whispered, your eyes showing him a hint of fear that made him finally lose all his faked professionalism. "Depressed? Crazy?"

Both of you were dying of anticipation now; meanwhile you feared that you were going to get admitted to Arkham, Jonathan was seeing the golden ticket to the best future he could ever achieve, and all thanks to you.

"Oh, no, no" he purred, his hand making its way up to your thigh. "You're sick, not crazy"

You parted your lips as his hand moved more further, not really sure of what was happening, not daring to stop him, too scared of your mental health to think about anything else, not helping the way your legs started to part too.

A sudden gasp left your lips as his hand squeezed your tight, a smile you never saw on him appearing on his face. The crying stopped a moment ago, the surprise of having him so close making you go a little numb.

"I know what a girl like you needs" he said, almost sternly, like his hand wasn't centimeters away from your panties.

Was in that moment, that you knew this wasn’t about therapy anymore.

"You think so?" you whispered, your voice still shaky, but now for a whole different reason. "And what is it, Doctor?"

"To be fucked stupid"

It almost shocked you how he said that as it was a normal diagnosis, like he gave you a name of a medicine you could go and buy at any drugstore in town. You gulped and didn't move when his grip tightened on your leg, your face growing red.

A loud gasp escaped your lips when at your lack of response, Jonathan grabbed you hard by the jaw and forced you to look at him. Your eyes glistened with nothing but fear, your brows narrowing as you mumbled something that he really couldn't understand, and it wasn't like he wanted to.

"You're sick, Y/N" he repeated, more harshly this time, his hand moving your head as he spoke. "And I'm going to cure you"

He let go of your face to clasp his lips against yours, a kiss very far away from sweet, his mouth moving roughly against yours. You never had been kissed like this, so you tried to play it along, trying to show him some of the love you felt for him, that you thought you owed him.

But he didn't care if you felt loved during the kiss, trying to assert the dominance he held upon you, his hand now holding firmly the back of you neck to prevent you from pulling away.

It was a mess; your teeth clashed, drool was dripping from your chin as his tongue explored every space of your mouth, not leaving anywhere of it untouched. Your movements were a little stiff, unsure of what to do, trying to provide the sweetness that he lacked.

His hand moved to your the front of your neck and squeezed it a little, making you yelp in surprise, the sound muffled by his mouth. You tried to get away from the kiss, confused about his rough actions against you, a little scared of him even, almost like you didn’t trust him every little part of your brain in this same couch for the last couple of months.

But then it clicked on your foggy brain, he knew you, perfectly— you only knew his name, you didn’t know what this man was capable of.

You could only move a few centimeters away from his hungry mouth, your lips parted as tears welled in your eyes from the pressure he was applying to your neck.

“Stop” you managed to stutter, your breath mixing with his. “I can’t- breathe”

You doubted that he listened to you, your voice not coming out of your throat at all and getting stuck in your larynx, your voice-box completely muffled by his strong grip.

“Shut up, brat” he spitted, his tone sounding full of abhor, your eyes wide open as you felt the air leaving your body and your lungs starting to burn. “Always getting what you want”

You weakly placed one of your hands around his wrist, another attempt of gasp elicited from your agape mouth as he lifted his other hand and choked you with both, something in your dizzy mind telling you that he was possessed.

“Crying all the time- complaining” he continued, not caring if you were listening, the suffocation being to much to bare now. “So selfish”

And maybe he was.

Your brain was filled with fear, wondering how it all went from a kiss to this— almost getting killed by your therapist in your couch. You opened your eyes to meet his, feeling like your chest was on fire as there wasn’t any air flowing in, seeing how the blue of Jonathan’s eyes has darkened and his lips were parted as well, the muscles of his jaw twitching as he choked you to death.

Your eyebrows narrowed together in terror as you noticed that familiar tingly sensation in your lower belly and your thighs clenching together. Maybe it was something about him exercising this power over you, how you felt so feeble under his touch, that was probably leaving bruises on your neck for you to carry and show around what he was making you do it.

You didn’t have enough time to think about it, you were practically dying.

“And you are enjoying this?” he said with an amused tone, probably noticing how your thighs fragily contracted against one another.

You felt yourself slowly lose your consciousness when finally the relief came and the air started to flow again to your desperate lungs, taking long and loud puffs of air when his hand let go of your neck. Your erratic breath was interrupted by a loud moan that escaped you when Crane yanked you by your hair and shoved you to the floor.

He was quick yo position you between his legs, looking at you through his unfixed glasses, giving you a twisted smile that made you quiver in fear, that growing wet patch on your panties making you feel like a really sick girl.

“Doctor-” you mumbled, closing your eyes as he pulled your hair, withdrawing a mewl off your mouth. “Hurts”

“You talk when I tell you to talk” he snickered, adjusting the way his fingers gripped your hair. You thought that he might just pull out the strand he was tugging. “I’m sick of your whining”

You felt more tears well up in your eyes; not sure if it was from the pain in your head or how his words felt like a knife that landed right on your heart. You were confused, sad, angry— a little hot, too.

“I pay you yo listen to me” you said, your voice so shaky you were lucky he could understand you. You wished he didn’t understand you.

Another sort of moan left your lips as a hard slap made a landing in your cheek, your face turned to the side because of the impact. You closed your eyes in disbelief, a cry coming out as you felt helpless, wondering if this was some exposure therapy he was experimenting on you.

He repeated himself, instructing you to talk only when you were told so, nodding in defeat as you accepted whatever this was and continued to play along with Jonathan’s sick fantasy of controlling you, without even knowing it.

You looked at him with nothing but inquietude, the look in his eyes giving you the foreboding that nothing good was about to happen now, frightened of what we would do to you.

He didn’t show any hints of letting go of your hair anytime soon, just holding it firmly to keep you looking at him through your heavy lashes, a wicked grin on his smug face.

“Let’s give that whining mouth of yours a good use” he said, and you gulped, understanding what he wanted and quivering in fear, not really understanding why the sticky sensation between your legs grew.

“Undo my pants” he commanded, and you stayed still, your eyes not leaving his even when another slap landed on your tear-wet face. “Do as you��re told, brat. This might be your only cure”

You couldn’t help but sob a little, his tone sounding so definitive, so professional. Your trembling hands reached his belt and unbuckling it ungracefully, taking longer than he expected, you heard him chuckle as you unbuttoned his pants afterwards, then putting your hands back in front of your lap.

“C’mon” he pulled your hair again, causing you to moan in pain. “Don’t make me tell you what to do”

You looked at him again in nothing but shame, trying to resist to this humiliating request of his, but complying it anyways. He said he was going to cure you, but now you doubted it, right now, you only wanted this to be over.

With a last look at his eyes you returned your attention to the growing bulge in his slacks, the shame in your brain being present at all times, not quite helping the way your eyes were fixated on his clothed member. You were quick to free him out after your staring earned you a other harsh pull of hair, your lips turned into a line when his cock slapped his abdomen, causing his dress shirt to wrinkle a little.

“Go on, Y/N” he encouraged you, as you looked at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him for mercy, knowing that even if you screamed it at him, he just wouldn’t listen. “This isn’t about what you want, anymore. Is about what you need”

A tear slid from your eyes and disappeared down your cheek when his free hand placed the tip of his hard cock on your parted lips, gesturing you to take it and not waste more of his time— more than you already did.

“Open up, whore” he said under his breath, using your hair as a device to move your head and help you shove his length down your throat. You complied, the tears in your eyes now soaking in you cheeks by the effort that you were making trying to welcome his thick shaft down your mouth.

You were sure you scratched him with your teeth a few times as he bobbed your head up and down with his strong hand, manhandling you without care for his own pleasure. You placed your hands on his knees, trying not to gag, but when his tip touched the bottom of your throat, you couldn’t help it.

You cried as you felt suffocated again, now for a whole different reason, a more humiliating one, and you almost wished he killed you then. His hips buckled everytime your lips reached the base of his cock, the room filled with the sounds of your mouth and saliva coating his shaft and the soft moans that came out of his poisoned lips.

“Take it, whore” he said, his voice now husky and distorted by the pleasure, the pain that your teeth accidentally inflicted on him turning him even more. “God- you are horrible at this”

He chuckled between heavy breaths, pulling you by the hair and releasing his cock from your mouth, a vulgar pop filling both of your ears at the sudden separation of your lips and his member. Your eyes looked at the floor, feeling such a shame that the mere thought of meeting his face with your fearful face made you cringe, the pulsating pain on the back of your head making you dizzy.

“You can’t suck dick properly” he said, his tone sounding like he was making fun of you. “No wonder why your husband left you. You’re just pathetic”

You finally rose up your face to look at that insufferable smile of his, ignoring the way his cock was still hanging there in front of you, almost brushing your nose. His fingers finally untangled from your hair and giving you some sort of solace, the consolation that this traumatic session was over.

Maybe the remedy was worse than the sickness itself.

“Jonathan, stop it, plea-”

Your imploration was completely ignored, followed by another slap on your wet cheek that made you cry even more, not understanding how this man could’ve been the same one who made you felt loved and finally listened. You fell for a lie once again.

“Get on the couch” he simply said, his words were like a bucket of cold water fell on you. “Stop the bitching, don’t want to hear it”

“And I’m your doctor. Not Jonathan” he reminded you, making you feel even more ashamed.

You did as he told, again, half-standing from the floor and sitting next to him, trying to take as much space from him as you could before he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, your face growing red as his face was now centimeters away from yours.

“You look so beautiful when you cry” he whispered, caressing your face but trying to nor wipe the tears away, almost like he was admiring you. It made you melt into his touch, glad that his kind demeanor was there again. Even if his words made you cringe— and the fact that his cock was still out, you felt your heart grew warmer by the way he tenderly touched you.

It didn’t last much longer, when his lips twitched into a malicious smile and went down to nibble your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses around the bruised skin and bitting where his fingers hurt you previously, making your fingers wrap on his hair and cry for mercy, trying for him to stop hurting you this much.

“Shut up, stupid brat” he repeated that same insult, making you swallow your cries, closing your eyes in disbelief as he continued to injure your already suffering skin.

You arched your back in surprise when all of the sudden his hands reached for your breasts, groping your tits like his life depending on it, stimulating you through the fabric of your shirt, but all you felt was fear and anger, impotence flowing through your veins because you just couldn’t scream and push him away, fear was freezing you on the spot.

The worst part? You maybe didn’t wanted to push him away. Because maybe if he gets what he wants now you would be cured and he’ll be back to normal, returning you the sweet Doctor Crane that you met once, not this monster that was groping you like a piece of meat.

He clicked his tongue and dropped both of his hands to spread your legs open, forcing your back to drop onto the hand rester of the couch. You looked at him with big eyes, your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest and scream to Jonathan that enough was enough, you just couldn’t take any of this anymore.

But your heart stayed there, between your lungs that seemed incapable to hold any air, making your breathing erratic. So nobody screamed Jonathan to stop, and he continued with his profanation against your persona— your dignity.

He bit his lip at the sight of your fucked-up face, your legs open as it showed him the dark patch on your baby blue panties, darting his eyes from your half-exposed crotch to your teary eyes.

“God, keep crying and I might come now” he growled, lowering his face to meet your pussy, kissing it through your underwear, making you mewl, closing your eyes at the sudden attention your core was getting.

You felt embarrassed at how much you enjoyed when he moved the fabric to the side and started making out with your cunt, swallowing your fluids like a starved man.

“So wet” he mumbled against your labia, the vibration making your eyes roll back, bitting your lip to prevent any moan to come out; he was raping you, why did he make you enjoy it? “I bet you like this, to be treated like a whore”

You shook your head, more tears falling out of your eyes as you felt nothing else but humiliation, pleasure washing over your body everytime his tongue brushed your clit, your back arched against nothing.

“You like it?” he said, finally pulling out and pushing his body up so his face was in front of yours, his cock grazing against your now stimulated pussy, a gasp leaving your lips, a gasp that quickly turned into a hurting moan when his hand slapped you again, this time in your throbbing cunt. “Answer me”

“I- I do” you whispered, gripping his shoulders when you felt him align the head of his member with your whole, scared of how it was going to fit. You had trouble taking it when he face-fucked you, how the fuck it was going to fit down there?

“I’m going to fuck you so good” he whispered between pants, jerking himself off before entering you. “You’re going to forget that pathetic husband of yours”

You couldn’t help but cry, trying to push him off by the shoulders, a terrified look on your face. “It won’t fit, Doctor” you pleaded, a crooked grin on his face as you keep on calling him that. “I beg you, don’t-”

“Yes, beg me” he said, starting to push his member inside you with a slow but relentlessly pace, not giving you enough time to adjust, just to scream and hit him weakly on the chest, face and shoulders before ge grabbed your hands and pinned them down, on the sides of your body. “I’m going to cure you- do you so good”

His voice was low, as he barely could speak when he felt just how tight you were, your walls hugging his cock just the right way, his pulsating head making your mind dizzy, the stinging pain starting to be forgotten.

But when he slid out and entered back it, the hardness of his movement made your insides burn with pain, a loud cry echoing in the walls of the living room as he started to trust into your pussy with a fast pace, not caring at all if you felt good.

He snapped his hips against yours with an animalistic force, growls escaped from his mouth every time his cock was welcomed by the warmth of your stretch whole, the sensation making him go even more feral, making you cry more.

He let go of one of your hands and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at his eyes as he fucked you vigorously, the blue on his iris not existent anymore, only his widely dilated pupils meeting yours, your blurred vision distinguishing the depraved expression in his face.

“You- so tight” he snarled, his voice barely audible, covered by the sound of skin slapping and your loud cries. “I bet your stupid husband didn’t fuck you like this”

You felt nothing but shame as you felt his cock now sliding in and out more easily, the wetness of your cunt growing as he spoke to you like that, that familiar heat flourishing in your lower belly as his words degraded you, your cries quickly becoming moans.

“This was all you needed- fuck” he said, his spit splashing your face as he talked, his words full of disdain. “A good dick, that’s all it takes to keep bitches like you quiet” You nodded, thinking that if you agreed he would stop. How wrong you were.

In a quick movement Jonathan took his cock out and spun you around, not giving you time to get on your ass up by laying your chest down before he stabbed your hole again, pushing your skirt all the way up to see how his pelvis came into collision with your ass.

You were moaning like a bitch in heat now, sure that the maids were listening, not really caring about it anymore. Jonathan was fucking you nice and hard, your mouth wide open as his tip brushed your cervix, screaming to him to keep it right there.

“I’m close” he said, pulling your hair back to press his chest to your back, his other hand going down to play with your swollen clit, wanting your to come around his cock like the slut he knew you were. “Come with me, you whore”

“Yes” you moaned, your tongue out as his cock hit the right spots, making your hips to move against his, grinding against his hand and dick, feeling your wetness drip down to your thighs. “Yes, yes, I want to”

He laughed, approaching your ear with his tongue to bite it, leaving a long and wet kiss underneath it that made you grow hotter, your eyes closed as you let him use you; the only thought in your mind being him and his wonder-working cock.

Truth was, he was fucking you stiffly, every slam of his hips stronger than the last one, but you were so deprived of touch, so dick-starved, that even if Jonathan was fucking you like a lifeless doll, only for the sake of his pleasure, you loved it, even when it hurt you.

“I’m going to fill you up” he said against your ear, his hand leaving your clit unattended as he grabbed your hip to increase the velocity of his thrusts, ramming your hole like a demented man, making your head drop against his shoulder and scream at the ceiling, now knowing what he meant by curing you.

“Going to get you pregnant” he said, more to himself than anything “so you don’t have to bitch about being alone anymore”

You opened your eyes with terror, you didn’t want children, you were so young. The idea made you frightened, the moaning now sounding like little nos and pull outs, but Jonathan didn’t listen.

“Doctor please, please, pull out” you pleaded, reaching for his hips and trying to push him away, one of his hands slapping your ass and pulling you down by your shoulder blade so you wouldn’t fight anymore. “Doctor Crane please”

“I will fucking fill you up, Y/N” he chanted, laughing at the idea of your round belly and your swollen tits, carrying his baby all day and feeling all worked up and needy all day, only waiting for him to fuck you all day. “You won’t be alone again. You won’t be sad again”

Then you realized it.

When he came, your hot walls creamed every single drop of his cum, making his thrusts sloppy and slow, his moans filling your ears as you sobbed under his touch, feeling his seed paint your walls and load your insides with his sperm.

That was your cure.

His hot release that now flooded inside your leaking cunt, that was your so-promised antidote. He took away your solitude by giving you his and yours firstborn, a bastard baby that would give you the company that you lacked.

You felt him chuckle as he rode out his high, the chase of his own climax made you forget yours, so now there you were, your swollen cunt looking for its release while his rested among your insides calmly, like it was meant to be.

He didn’t pull out immediately, taking his time to appreciate the sight of your skirt resting in your hips all rolled up, your bruised neck and messy hair, the way your ass was exposed to him by the way he had you arching your back. All for him— for him to wreck.

He pulled out and rolled his eyes when you started crying, now being annoying instead of hot. You sat on the couch and saw him button his pants and fix his hair, hissing when you felt nothing but pain growing in your worn-out pussy. You explained through your weak voice how he ruined your life, that he was the worst person you’ve ever met and that now you had to carry the product of his sick and twisted rapist-fantasy, even tried to hit him, but your pathetic tantrum only gained you another slap in the face, and a stern look.

When he tried to stand up and leave, you grabbed him by the wrist and begged him not to, he couldn’t just leave you, not now, not ever.

“Don’t be so ungrateful” he said, a smile that made you feel nothing but trepidation in his face. “You’ll never be alone again”

You couldn’t help but feel scared. Scared of him, of what just happened, of what’s going to happen next, scared for your future son with this evil specie of a man.

When you continued to cry, and he pulled you for a hug as he assured you that he would never leave you; and how could he? He had a long life of success waiting for him now, giving a girl of your status his last name, his children. Oh, it’s going to be wonderful, he just needed to tame you and make you the perfect slave for him, and that wasn’t going to be hard.

You were sure that you’ll never be loved, but at least now Jonathan was going to be with you. You’ll never be alone again.

thanks for reading. w/love, fenina;)

taglist: @lovesickxcherries @genini @ilunapb @ostricx @devotedlyshadowytheorist

if you want to be added let me know, it’ll be my pleasure🫶🏻

#cillian x fem!reader #jonathan crane x reader #cillian murphy x oc #cillian murphy x reader #cillian smut #cillian x reader #cillian x y/n #jonathan crane fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #jonathan crane x you #cillian one shot #cillian fic #peaky blinder imagine #batman fanfiction #scarecrow x reader

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aronkiepronkie · 5 months ago

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hi guys um tsukishima is growing on me do u think he would be jealous and then he confesses to u....ahahahaha........help

noya slaps your back lightly while encouraging you loudly, his hand resting on your lower back. suga rubs your shoulder blades in acknowledgment, a reassuring smile plastered on his face, daichi ruffles your hair with a chuckle. "you'll get it next time yn, i believe in you!" hinata exclaims with starry eyes as he skips towards you, the noise of his squeaky shoes bounces off the gym walls and before his hands get to slap against your shoulders he gets cut off, a volleyball bouncing off the back of his fluffy tangerine hair. "YEOWWWWW!!!!" he yells out, grabbing his head dramatically. "lay off pipsqueak." tsukishimas voice echos through everyones ears as he walks over to you with the same volleyball he threw at hinata. "hey what was tha-" hinata starts but quickly cut off by tsukishimas quiet voice that was aimed toward you. his gaze lingers for a bit, glasses shining when his eyes meet with your seemingly longing ones. "...can i talk to you real quick?" tsukishima says slowly while looking down at sugas comforting hand on your shoulder, that same shoulder losing the warmth of his hand when he lets go. "you can't just take them! they're practicing with us!" noyas booming voice causes tsukishima to roll his eyes. "let it go bro! he looks mad!" tanaka butts in and noya mumbles a sassy "whatever" and shrugs his hand off your back. "yeah...'course you can talk to-" "privately."

you follow tsukishima outside the gym, not without a few "ooooo"s and you could've sworn you heard yamaguchi cheering on with a, "you got this tsukki!". maybe you misheard? tsukishimas back is faced towards you but you can almost make out the expression he has, the usual nonchalant and confident aura from him has been replaced with...nervousness, it almost feels like. his shoulders are slightly raised like a startled cat and he glances back at you, the crusty white light attached to the gym building glowing against tsukishimas pale porcelain skin and his glasses show a faint reflection of your figure, he looks away from you swiftly. your heart skips a beat. the only thing keeping this situation from being awkwardly quiet is the distant sound of crickets chirping and an eventual sigh escapes his chest. "soooo," you break the painful silence. "why'd you n-" you start, trying to strike a conversation with the blonde boy but he cuts you off. "why do you let them touch you all the time?" he asks harshly turning around to look down at you. your face twists into confusion, your eyebrows scrunching together. tsukishima scoffs and rolls his eyes. "is it not annoying?" he cocks his head mockingly, taking a step closer to you. you huff, "so you brought me out of practice to shit talk your teammates?" you cross your arms, "those are my friends y'know?" "do you need such touchy friends?" he asks, his golden eyes narrowing at you, his body leaning downward to get closer to you. "why do you care so much?" you question him and he goes silent. "what? you like me or something?" you joke, a proud smile creeping onto your face at his surprised expression, he quickly furrows his brows and stands up straight. "maybe i do yn! maybe i do like you. maybe i can't stand seeing any other boys filthy hands on you because i like you, i should be with you! not your childish little 'friends'!" tsukishima exclaims and he rubs his face in frustration, running his hands through his short blonde locks, refusing to look at your face.

you're beyond shocked, dumbfounded even. his rushed, loud confession which is nothing like him, and the fact he was confessing because he was jealous? you'd think it was cute if you weren't blown away. "kei..." you mutter his first name, sending gentle shivers down his spine that he tries his best to hide from you. "shut up shut up shutupshutupshutup." he grumbles into his hands. "you're really gonna confess like that?" you giggle before full on laughing, clutching your stomach and even wiping a tear or two from laughter. "yeah okay, laugh it up." tsukishima groans and you let out a long sigh while looking down. "you are such an idiot." you say and look up at him with a smile, he can't help the pink tint that coats his warm cheeks and he looks away from your eyes. "look who's talking, you moron." he grunts in annoyance, rolling his eyes once again. you reach for his trembling hand and step closer to him, the shakiness of his hand was quite surprising but it was a nice reassurance that he wasn't just playing a stupid prank on you. your hand reaches for his warm neck and rest your palm on the curve of it, pulling his face closer to yours and finally, finally pressing a gentle, loving kiss to his soft lips. tsukishima hesitates for a split second, his raised shoulders relaxing as he kisses you back, both of his large, bandaged hands grabbing your hips. "i like you too, silly."

#tsukishima kei #kei tsukishima #tsukki #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x you #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima haikyuu #haikyuu tsukishima #haikyuu tsukki #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fluff #hq x reader #haikyuu drabbles #hq fluff #aronkiepronkie

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devildomwriter · 1 year ago

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Their First and Last Words in the OG Game

*not including text* in this list is the vert first dialogue they are given, even if it’s not in-person (such as over a call) or not fully formed words like a distant call for help*

Lucifer

First (1-1): “I will explain everything to you.”

Last (80-22): “I knew it wouldn’t stay quiet around here for long…”

Mammon

First (1-1): “Huh? Who the hell are ya? You ain’t Lucifer” or “Are ya foolin’ around? Who the hell are ya?”

*first words via call are dependent on player choice*

Last (80-22): “Nuh-uh!!”

Leviathan

First (1-7): “How about this? I vote for YOU to die, Mammon.”

Last (80-16 Hard): “AAAAAAAAH!”

Satan

First (1-2): “Hmph. At least he didn’t ignore you altogether. How do you think I feel?”

Last (80-22): “No, MC’s mine.”

Asmodeus

First (1-2): “Oh, come now. Really? You should be honored that you get to introduce such a sweet and charming little brother like me!”

Last (80-22): “Oh MC! I’ve missed you sooo sooo SOOO much!”

Beelzebub

First (1-2) “Nope, I haven’t eaten any souls…yet.”

*this dialogue is only available by choosing a specific option in the game but it is the earliest available speech he gives*

Last (80-22): “In that case, we’ll be able to see each other whenever we want from now on, huh?”

Belphegor

First (2-15) “…el…”

Last (80-22): “Right, exactly. Because MC’s mine.”

Solomon

First (2-2): “Hey, you there.”

Last (80-16 Hard): “All right, all right…fine. We’ll go to the book signing with you. Okay?”

Simeon

First (2-13): “Ah, but I notice that you didn’t deny the part about him being cute, did you?”

Last (80-16 Hard): “Anyway, I feel like maybe I’ve made a bit of progress on my personal journey now?”

Raphael

First (60-22): “I can see that, yes…”

Last (80-19): “…Have you forgotten that I’m standing right here? If you’re about to have a “moment”…don’t.”

Luke

First (2-13): “Pff, of course not! Duh! That was a put-down! An insult! He’s taunting you!”

Last (80-22): “Aww… I want to see MC too, but they aren’t leaving me enough space to get through…”

Michael

First (38-17): “Hello there, MC.”

Last (44-18): “Goodbye. Until we meet again, MC…”

Thirteen

First (65-3): “Ahahahaha!” or “Ugh, what was THAT?! Honestly, I don’t believe it!”

*her first dialogue is dependent on player choice*

Last (80-17): “No. This is my first time studying at RAD, remember? My program runs for a full year.”

Little D. No. 2

First (7-10): “Now, now, I think it’s nice to have at least one foolish character in the group you can tease. It lightens things up a little, don’t you think?”

Last (68-16 Hard): “Y-Yes sirrr…”

Mephistopheles

First (63-1): “Don’t touch that!”

Last (80-17): “It’s the same with Solomon. Your terms should be ending soon, right?”

Barbatos

First (2-13): “Huh. Whenever you make an important announcement, the demons here couldn’t care less. But rumors… they really do spread like wildfire.”

Last (80-22): “Shall I go make some tea?”

Diavolo

First (1-1): “Welcome to the devildom MC.”

Last (80-22): “Ahaha! Come on, take it easy…all of you. You’re going to suffocate MC.”

First (1-1): “Where am I?”

*technically these are just thoughts but I’m counting it*

Last (80-16 Hard): “I think you’re taking it a bit too far…” or “Just don’t summon Lotan by accident, okay?” or “Now you’ve got ME bawling, too!”

*dependent on player choice*

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winterxisxcomingx · 9 months ago

Note

How do you think Lucifer would react to the Charlie/Vaggie/Emily OT3?

(We really need to find a name for this ship)

Excellent question!

"Wasn't Vaggie your girlfriend? Last time I checked?" "Yes, she still is." "So what about the new on? En-Ed-Em-" "Emily." "Yes! Emily girl?" "She's also my girlfriend." "So... both? At once?" "Yes, dad." "Oh, well. Ahahahaha, as long as they're making you happy, sweetheart."

Overall - really confused. You can imagine how many stages of 'worried dad' he ran, before he figured out what's going on.

He firstly thought that his daughter did similar deed like him (as he helped Eve). Or maybe this plus this new girl was just... mistress? Sort of?

Either way he wouldn't care, but just,, was really confused

still isn't sure how it works, but Lucifer knows how much love is inside his daughter, so he's sure that she have enough for more than one person

he's only worried that her partners will hurt her one day (*angry dad mode*) or stupid Heaven with their stupid taboos. Because demons wouldn't dare. But Heaven? He can't control them.

Let me tell you tho, that he accepts them both immediately. I mean, they are both angels (like him) and they were good God's children until they learnt the hard truth about Heaven. He understands them. And he can understand their love for his daughter.

As he tried had his "father-daughter time' with Charlie, he also tried to do this with Vaggie & Emily.

Did it work? Eh... But they tried!

(Both girls got wooden ducks as a sorry)

Charlie is so glad that her dad accepts her girlfriends and her love life and new family.

Now, she only waits for her mother... She's scared, yes, but... at least she’s not alone now, right?

#two and a half halos #charlie's angels #charlies angels #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanons #charlie morningstar #vaggie hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel emily #emily x charlie x vaggie #vaggie x charlie x emily #chaggily #royalhalo #chaggie #emily x vaggie #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer

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seiya-starsniper · 4 months ago

Note

I mean, I can't NOT prompt 3."Can you just look at me? Please?" with Dreamling. Because I'm predictable like that.

🤘five-and-dimes

Hey @five-and-dimes, remember when you sent me this BACK IN MARCH? 😅 I finally got around to it, for Sandmannivery and also for Dreamling Bingo!

This was originally supposed to be a shortfic and then it ballooned to 4k, whoopsies! But I don't think you'll mind all that much ahahahaha.

@mr-sadman prompt: Amnesia @dreamlingbingo prompt: Square C1 - Rescue

Rating: General

Warnings: None

Tags: Memory Loss, Dream of the Endless Saves Hob Gadling, Time Loop, Angst with a Happy Ending

Read the whole fic below or on AO3: a half-remembered dream

— — — — — — — — — —

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the air was warm and inviting. It was the type of day best spent laying out on the grass in a bed of flowers, with no thought or care to any sort of responsibilities for that day. It was a weekend after all.

Wasn’t it?

Now that he thinks about it—what day is it anyways? Wasn’t there something he needed to do? Why did it feel like there was something he was forgetting?

— — — — —

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the air was warm and inviting. It was the type of day best spent laying out on the grass in a bed of flowers…

…Where were all the flowers?

When the man sits up all he sees is an endless sea of grass. Where was he? What time was it? How long had he been here? Why was he—who was he?

Why can’t he remember?

What was going on?

How—

— — — — —

It was a beautiful day. The sun—

— — — — —

It was a beautiful day. Again. The sun was shining. Again. The birds were singing. Always the same song, the same length, the same tune. The same, the same, the same. The sun was shining, but now it felt cold and hollow, not warm and inviting. There was something very wrong about where he was, and now that he was paying attention, he fits the pieces together to form a very simple conclusion.

Hob Gadling was dreaming.

He’d been dreaming for the entire time he’d been here. And he still had no idea where here was. Sometimes he’s laying in a field of flowers. Other times there’s nothing else but grass and rolling hills for miles. Sometimes he hears the babbling of a brook nearby. Sometimes he remembers the vague outline of a cottage that reminds him of his childhood home. The one from 1359.

Hob doesn’t know how long he’s been here. Every time he gets somewhat close to maybe remembering something, his mind just—floats away. He wouldn’t quite call it blacking out, his vision doesn’t go suddenly dark and he doesn’t lose consciousness then suddenly wake up. Could a person even wake up from a dream into another dream? Hob has no idea.

Sometimes though, if he concentrates enough, Hob can feel a deep ache in his muscles and bones. He knows it’s his real body that feels the pain because in this dream world, Hob can run and skip and jump for miles and miles and miles. Wherever his body, his real body was, Hob knows that it hadn’t moved or been moved in a very long time.

Too long, his mind supplies.

Wake up, he tells himself. He’d always been able to get himself to wake up if he knew he was dreaming. But it doesn’t seem to be working this time. Hasn’t worked on any of his other previous attempts really, but Hob still feels like he has to at least try to do it again.

Wake! Up! he tells himself over and over to no avail. Wake up, wake up, wake up!

Nothing.

Hob growls in frustration and desperately looks around the dreamscape, hoping for some sort of sign, some sort of clue for how to get out of here. Was he in a coma? Was that why he couldn’t wake up? Was his body safe? Was he—?

Hob startles suddenly as his eyes catch sight of a shadow. The movement is so swift, so sudden, that Hob’s not entirely sure he didn’t just blink and imagine it all. He whips his head around desperately, concentrating all his focus to the spot where he thinks the shadow may have gone.

And then he sees it. A small wisp in the dark. Hob runs, desperate to catch up to it. He wants to see what it is, who it is, because he’s almost certain the shadow is a person, and maybe they know a way out of this place, a trick to wake Hob up, something, anything to help.

But then, just as suddenly as it appeared, the shadow vanishes into the air, as if it had never been there at all.

But Hob knows that he’s seen it. He knows it’s there.

He knows he’s not alone here. Not anymore.

— — — — —

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the air was warm and inviting.

“Why can’t I wake up?” Hob asks the shadow, ignoring everything else around him. The shadow stands out in the bright landscape of the dream, though Hob is certain it did not mean for Hob to perceive its presence at all.

The shadow does not answer him. It never does. Hob sees the shadow all the time now, out of the corner of his eye, always just beyond reach. He doesn’t know what the shadow is, but he is certain that he knows the shadow itself. He’s forgotten the hows and the whys and the whens, but he knows the shadow is a friend. That it won’t hurt him.

The problem is, the shadow won’t help him either.

“Can you just look at me please?” Hob begs. If he were stuck here, if even they were both stuck here, wherever this weird limbo between dreaming and waking was, wouldn’t it be better if they worked together? Anything was better than this crushing loneliness Hob was feeling right now. He would do anything to have a conversation with someone right now. He doesn’t know when the last time was that he’d heard the voice of a friend.

“Answer me!” Hob demands, his anger rising now as the shadow continues to ignore him. “Why can’t I wake up from this dream?!”

Silence. Then—

“It is not safe,” the shadow says, and then, once again, it is gone.

— — — — —

It was a beautiful day. No. It was an awful day, and Hob screams to the sky and demands the stranger—his Stranger—because something about that rings true in his mind—stop hiding from Hob and face him like a man. That too, rings true in his mind, that the Stranger at the very least, wore the shape of a human man whenever Hob saw him.

As always though, Hob’s questions are met with nothing but indifferent silence.

Hob will not give up. He knows now that something is very wrong, something that is keeping Hob from waking up, from living, and he is determined to find out exactly what.

Ever since Hob encountered the Stranger, his mind has stopped floating away, but now Hob is all too aware that he’s repeating the same day, in this same goddamned endless landscape, over and over again. And he doesn’t know why.

The Stranger knows why. He doesn’t always show up when the day resets, but when he does, he doesn’t speak, nor does he meet Hob’s eye, no matter how much he begs and pleads. If Hob tries to run to him, the Stranger somehow ends up further away, without having taken a single step. It’s infuriating.

Today, Hob can’t see him anywhere, but somehow, he knows the Stranger is here. And still, he ignores Hob’s requests to talk. Hob tries insults next, hurling whatever cruel and uncaring words come to the forefront of his mind. No response. He tries threats. Nothing. He goes back to begging, crying even, for any sort of acknowledgement from this cruel and uncaring god.

No response.

So Hob screams.

He screams and screams and screams and—

— — — — —

It was raining.

Finally, something was different. Hob had grown sick of nothing but sunny days and perfect weather. It was all so fake. The sunny weather was fake, the beautiful landscapes were fake, the trees, the flowers, the singing birds, all of it was fake and Hob hated it here.

Thunder booms in the distance suddenly, followed by the unmistakable crack of lightning, as if the weather had worsened to reflect Hob’s feelings on the matter. Maybe Hob was affecting this tiny little dream world he found himself suddenly trapped in. Maybe he had more power here than he originally thought.

Not that it really mattered anyways. Hob was still trapped, and his only hope for escape refused to talk to him. For all Hob knew, the Stranger he’s been trying so hard to communicate with is the reason he’s trapped here. Maybe he’s keeping Hob here because Hob did something to offend him.

Even as the thought crosses his mind, he knows immediately that it’s not true. The Stranger, whoever he was, was Hob’s friend, and Hob knew, deep in his bones, his weary, achy, exhausted bones, that the Stranger wouldn’t keep him here against his will. There was something else going on, and for whatever reason, Hob wasn’t allowed to know.

“Please tell me what’s wrong,” Hob says to the falling drops outside his cottage window. “You said it wasn’t safe, but what if I’m not safe out there? Where is my body? Why am I asleep? What happened to me?”

Lightning crackles and sparks in the distant horizon in response, but Hob receives no other indicator that the Stranger, the shadow, had been listening to his pleas at all.

— — — — —

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and Hob thinks he has never heard anything more perfect and wonderful in his entire life.

Because today, Hob finally remembers.

He remembers the meeting with his Stranger in 1389. Then 1489. And 1589. And on and on they went, secret meetings in the same tavern once every hundred years. A friendship borne on shaky beginnings, but still steadfast and true. He remembers the name of his friend. His patron. His—

“Dream!” Hob calls out to the sky. It vibrates and shakes and Hob can feel the atmosphere of the dreamscape tremble at the utterance of its maker’s name. Hob learned that Dream’s name is a closely guarded secret, that it is sacred, because to hold Dream’s name in one’s mind is to hold power over the Endless himself.

Even knowing this, Hob still calls for him. Even knowing the pull of Hob’s will, Dream still does not come.

Which means that something incredibly bad has happened. Dream would not lock Hob away like this without cause.

“Why am I here, Dream?!” Hob yells. “What’s going on?!”

— — — — —

It was…a day.

Hob does not know how long he’s been here, trapped, scared, alone. The dreamscape has grown dull with each passing, unchanging day, and Hob’s will to continue on with this charade of a life grows thinner and thinner as well.

He does not want to die. Hob will never ask for Death’s hand, of that much he’s certain. He will stay here for as long as it takes, confident that one day, he will once again taste what it feels like to be awake. To be alive.

But Hob is also tired, and, perhaps more importantly, he is bored. As peaceful as his little cottage is, as safe as it appears, there is nothing left for Hob to do but wait. And he does not know what he is waiting for, other than for Dream to finally speak to him and tell him that everything’s all right again.

So Hob decides to sleep.

He realized, some time back, that though his physical body is asleep, his dreaming body is wide awake. But this manifestation too, needs rest, and cannot sustain itself forever, even in the realm of dreams. His dreaming mind, too, needs rest from time to time, which Hob belatedly realizes is the reason why sometimes he has a dreamless sleep.

Dream, Hob is certain, will wake both his subconscious and conscious minds, when everything is safe in the Waking World again.

The cottage in this landscape of Hob’s mind contains a bed big enough for Hob to sprawl in. Hob wouldn’t have had this bed back in the 1300s, it’s more reflective of the one he shared with Eleanor in the 1500s, back when he was a lord and could afford all the finest silks and sheets. It’s far too large of a bed to sleep in alone, and Hob almost wishes he could craft himself a companion of some sort to cuddle up to, to at least pretend he’s not stuck in his own mind alone. And well, it was probably for the better anyways. Hob is pretty sure that even if he could make himself a companion, it wouldn’t be Eleanor he would create in his mind’s eye to cuddle up to. And well, that would be rather embarrassing to explain.

So Hob settles in his large bed, alone, and lets himself drift off, hoping that he won’t wake too soon.

— — — — —

It was a beautiful…night?

Hob spins and spins and spins, and still, he cannot fathom how it is he’s surrounded on all sides by nothing but darkness stars. He thinks he should be falling, for there is nothing but infinity below his feet when he looks down. And yet, the ground beneath his feet is solid as anything Hob has ever stood on, even if staring at it too long makes his eyes a little dizzy.

Everything Hob has come to know about his dream world is gone. The cottage is gone, the bed he’d been sleeping in for eons and eons and eons is gone, the grass, the flowers, the rolling hills, all of it is gone, gone, gone. Like it had never existed in the first place.

Hob tries running in one direction, then another. Yet for all his efforts, he never seems to truly move anywhere. He wonders what it all means.

Then, Hob sees him. A shadow in the dark. A wisp of power. A spark of hope and light and friend.

Dream of the Endless rushes towards Hob in the blink of an eye and collapses in a broken heap at his feet. Hob startles and then falls to his knees, clutching his oldest friend in his arms. Has Dream always been so small? So frail?

“My friend, what’s happened?” Hob asks, trying to not jostle the other too much. Dream doesn’t respond, only groans when Hob tries to take a closer look at him. “Dream, please, are you all right?” Hob pleads, hoping and praying to whatever entity out there that the Endless was all right. That this wasn’t the end of the line for the two of them.

Even if it was though, Hob is certain he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

“Hob,” Dream gasps after a moment, his head suddenly shooting up as he meets Hob’s eyes. Hob realizes with horror that his friend’s face is covered entirely in blood, and his eyes are sunken, endless pits of black. Dream looks like someone had beaten him for hours, then thrown him out to fend for himself. Hob feels helpless, not knowing what he can possibly do to help.

“My friend,” Hob wails, tears filling his eyes, and gripping Dream tightly. “What happened to you?”

“It’s over,” Dream wheezes, then coughs out a darkened ball of sludge. “You’re free.”

“What? Dream!” Hob yells, and then—

— — — — —

Hob gasps and coughs loudly as air, real air, fills his lungs. To finally breathe with his waking body is both the most glorious and agonizing thing. He feels as though he had been dead and brought back to life, only this time around, he’d spent a particularly long time being dead. Everything hurt, his head, his eyes, his bones.

“Oh fucking hell,” someone curses from next to him. Hob’s head snaps harshly to his left, trying to locate the source of the voice.

It is a mistake to move so suddenly.

Hot, fiery pain shoots up Hob’s spine and all the way up to the tip of his ears and he groans. The voice curses again, calling Hob a bloody idiot and it’s only when Hob sees a flash of a bright white trench coat that he finally recognizes who it is that’s at his bedside.

“Constantine?” Hob tries to say, but his voice cracks on the syllables. He coughs again. He’s thirsty. Parched even. His tongue feels like lead, and every time he tries to say something else, the words come out as a cough and a wheeze instead.

“The one and only Hobsie,” Johanna replies, still seeming to understand Hob’s intelligible noises anyways. “I’m sure you’re wondering what the flying fuck has happened then,” she adds, gesturing between the two of them. “Let’s get you some water first though, you look and sound like shit.”

— — — — —

Hours later, Hob’s mind is spinning as Johanna explains to him what’s happened to Hob over the past eight months. Eight. Months.

Apparently, someone had figured out that Hob was immortal, and, unsurprisingly, had tried to see if they could steal his immortality for themselves. There was a battle, a negotiation with a demon that Johanna was all too happy to smite, a failed spell, a cult, and—a coma.

A coma induced by Dream. To save Hob’s mind. The demon that the cult had summoned had wriggled its way into Hob’s head, eager for a vessel that would not die so easily. One that could easily wreak infinite destruction and chaos upon the mortal realm.

Dream would not let that happen. He’d followed the path of the demon into Hob’s mind, had fought tirelessly with it, while keeping Hob’s own consciousness locked away in a small pocket of the Dreaming, where not even Lucifer themself could reach. He’d left the guard of Hob's physical body to Johanna, who then stuck Hob in one of her safehouses just outside London, checking on him every other day to see if his condition had changed. She had been just about to leave for the evening when Hob awoke and, in her words, “scared her fucking soul into next Thursday, you git.”

Johanna, unfortunately, has no idea what’s happened to Dream, but she’s not nearly as terrified as Hob feels she should be when he describes to her the last he’d seen of the Endless before he’d woken up.

“That bastard’s too stupid to let a demon off him like that,” Johanna says, shrugging. “I’ll see if I can get a hold of him, but you need to fucking rest, or he’ll kill me himself.”

Hob thinks he should be afraid to go back to sleep, after being asleep for so long already. But shortly after Johanna leaves, Hob finds himself growing sleepy once more, and for the first time, he falls into an entirely peaceful, dreamless slumber.

— — — — —

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the air was warm and inviting.

Hob takes a deep breath, and smells fresh air for the first time in eight months.

He is awake. He is alive.

It had taken him almost an entire week to recover his strength after he’d woken up. An entire week of trying to make sense of his life, how he’d lost eight months of it, the cult of wannabe wizards who had tried to take his immortality from him, the lies Johanna had spun on his behalf so no one would look too closely into why Hob was suddenly missing. It had been overwhelming those first few days, but Hob’s always been quick to adapt to things, so today he is taking the time to relax and enjoy his hard won freedom.

Hob feels his presence before he sees him. He’s gotten good, over the centuries, at being able to sense when Dream was nearby. There was always just the subtlest change in the air, a sudden smell of morning rain where previously there had been none.

Dream sits next down to Hob on the bench, a loaf of bread in hand, which he starts to break apart to feed the pigeons that have gathered at their feet. He looks much improved from when Hob had last seen him. Still fragile, but whole and unhurt.

“I’ve been waiting for you to show up,” Hob says, turning to face Dream and smiling to show that he’s not angry.

“I am aware,” Dream replies, his own lips quirking up just so. “I apologize for the delay. I had some additional matters to deal with.”

“Banishing demons and the like?” Hob asks with a small chuckle. Dream huffs.

“How are you, my friend?” Dream asks instead of answering Hob’s question. Hob stretches and then cracks his neck in response.

“Still a bit stiff, honestly, but doing loads better,” Hob answers. “Thanks for…everything. Even if I wasn’t always the most grateful at times,” he adds a bit sheepishly. He still remembers how angry and frustrated he’d felt. How lonely he’d felt.

Hob knows, logically, that he’d mostly reacted out of fear and ignorance, much of which was brought on by his amnesia in the Dreaming. But he still feels guilty about all the unkind things he’d thought about Dream, when Dream had been out on the front lines desperately trying to save his life. Things he knows that Dream was able to perceive while Hob was locked away in the Dreaming. He wonders if that’s why Dream hadn’t come to see him right away. If his friend was angry at him, though he didn’t look like it at present.

Hob is shaken out of his morose thoughts by a solid hand on his shoulder. Dream’s hand. God, he really must look like a wreck if Dream is this concerned.

“I am sorry,” Dream says solemnly, “that I took so long to rescue you. You suffered unnecessarily because of my shortcomings.”

“Dream,” Hob says, swallowing a lump in his throat, and trying to ignore the heat creeping up his face at where his friend is touching him. “You saved me. That’s not nothing.”

He’s touched at how much Dream cares, but it really wasn’t the Endless’s fault that Hob found himself in danger. If anything, it was Hob’s fault entirely for not being careful enough, despite centuries of living, and learning that hard way that he needed to be careful.

“But it was my fault you were compromised in the first place,” Dream says, then suddenly goes silent, his face pinched.

Hob furrows his brow, confused. “How’s that?” he asks. “It wasn’t your fault that someone figured out I was immortal.” Dream sighs, then shakes his head.

“Those that captured you were not well versed in the ways of the occult,” Dream answers.“They mistakenly summoned a demon far more powerful than they intended, and it was only because the demon knew of your association with me that they were spared their lives, and allowed to strike a bargain.”

“So the demon only helped because he knew you and I were friends?” Hob asks. “That’s hardly your fault still.”

“That is—not all of it,” Dream says, looking wretched and like he’s marching to his own execution.

“Then what else?” Hob asks, placing his hand over Dream’s own. It’s surprisingly warm beneath his touch, but Hob may just be projecting. Dream tries to remove his hand from Hob’s shoulder, and Hob lets him, but doesn’t release his own grip on the Endless’s hand, letting their hands slide down to the bench between them instead.

“It’s okay, Dream,” Hob says, squeezing his friend’s hand in reassurance. “You can tell me.”

Dream stares at the point where their hands meet, face still pinched with discomfort. Hob lets the silence between them drag out, not wanting to rush his friend. Whatever it was Dream wanted to tell him, it clearly was something that weighed heavily on his mind, and Hob didn’t want to put his friend under any more duress than they both had been through recently.

“The demon knew,” Dream finally says, so quietly that Hob can barely hear him, “that I felt more for you than just friendship.”

Oh.

“Dream—” Hob starts to say, his heart suddenly lurching, but Dream holds up his free hand to silence him.

“That is not the only confession I wish to make,” Dream admits, before he takes a deep breath Hob knows damn well he does not need.

“Okay…” Hob replies, bracing himself, but still feeling hopeful, despite Dream’s somber tone.

“After our reunion at The New Inn,” Dream says, his face now tinted the slightest shade of pink. “You dreamed of me.”

Ah.

“I…see,” Hob says, processing all this new information while trying to calm the rapid thump-thump-thump of his heart. “So you’ve known for a while then,” he continues, his question confirmed when Dream nods his head silently at him, still looking somber.

“Why then—” Hob coughs and then clears his throat. “Why all the secrecy then?”

Dream’s brow seems to be in a permanent state of pinched, and Hob wants to smooth it out with his thumb, but he holds himself back as the Endless considers his words.

“My love has been a burden to mortals before,” Dream replies, looking stricken as some painful memory seems to overcome him. “It is, in fact, forbidden for the Endless to consort with mortals, barring certain circumstances,” he continues. “I withheld my knowledge of your feelings, as well as my own, for your own safety. For all the good that it did in the end.”

“Hey,” Hob says, squeezing down on Dream’s hand as understanding dawns on him. “I’m still here thanks to you. And still plan to be for the long haul. Too much to live for, remember?”

“I still put you in danger,” Dream starts to argue, but Hob shushes him gently.

“That sort of danger comes with what I signed up for,” Hob reassures him. “And I’d go through it again, just so you know,” he adds sincerely. “Too much to live for still includes you.”

Dream's eyes widen, shock and hope and awe clearly painted across his features. “You would still—?”

“I would,” Hob replies immediately, leaning in just close enough for them to almost kiss. “You're worth the risk, any day, any century, Dream.”

“You are a fool,” Dream replies, but there’s no reproach in his tone. Only a heat that makes desire curl in Hob’s belly.

“Maybe,” Hob grins, staring pointedly down at Dream’s mouth. “Can I kiss you?”

“You can do more than just that,” Dream purrs, and then suddenly the two of them are enveloped in a whirl of sand that instantly moves them from the park bench to Hob’s bedroom. Hob laughs as he finds himself pinned beneath the King of Dreams.

“C’mere you,” Hob says, tugging his oldest friend down into a kiss.

It was a perfect day.

#dreamling #dream of the endless/hob gadling #hob x morpheus #the sandman fanfic #seiya writes #seiya writes dreamling #sandmanniversary #sandmanniversary 2024 #dreamling bingo #dreamling bingo 2024

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lonewolflupe · 1 month ago

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I thought it would be fun to write a little bit about myself, so come over and get to know me! (As far as I know myself because I didn't come with a manual so I'm still figuring myself out..) If you have any more questions, feel absolutely free to ask them!

Expect a karkload of ramblings below the cut, this turned out so much longer than I intended I am so sorry, no one is probably going to read this but I'm just leaving this here anyway because I don't really have people to share my ramblings with

PERSONAL

My name's Julie (she/her)

Lupe is actually my OCs name, but I adopted it as a nickname here on Tumblr when I first started posting and I kinda stuck with it

Quickly approaching my 30s help

I'm from the Netherlands 🇳🇱 so my first language is Dutch

That obviously means English isn't my first language, so please excuse any errors in my writing

I am Dutch, therefore I love cheese 🧀 (like Gouda, NOT cheddar)

I am an archaeologist! I've been a history nerd all my life

I work in a museum (obviously one with a history collection)

My #1 all-time favourite animals are wolves

In RL, I am super introverted and people scare the kark out of me

I never got any diagnosises, but I'm pretty sure I'm neurodivergent

I prefer the internet over meeting people IRL, because I feel way more comfortable to be myself and ramble about the things I love online than IRL

I tend to switch between my several hyperfixations from time to time, but I really hope to stick around the Star Wars fandom for a long time <3

HOBBIES

Star Wars obviously ahahahaha what are you doing here otherwise?

Drawing, writing, photography, gaming, history, nature, collecting, listening to music

Drawing: has always been one of my favourite pastime activities. I used to draw wolves almost non-stop, until life happened I guess? I only recently picked up drawing again. Drawing humans is a struggle, but it's so much fun practicing with clones <3

Drawing: I'm currently drawing with my ergonomically irresponsible mouse in Photoshop CS6 (I've been using the same software for over 10 years now and I am too afraid to switch to something newer)

Writing: I used to write stories about wolves (shocker) but same as with drawing, life happened. Until I recently picked up writing again! I started writing fanfiction for the first time when I started posting on Tumblr around June 2024

Writing: publishing a book has been on my bucketlist for a long time but I'm not sure that's ever going to happen, so let's keep it with fanfiction for now (which I am REALLY enjoying)

Gaming: I prefer gaming on my PlayStation 3 and 4, but I occasionally play PC and Nintendo Switch games. I mostly play single-player games. Assassin's Creed got me into gaming and is still my favourite series. I also really enjoy The Witcher III, Red Dead Redemption I + II, LA Noire and Far Cry Primal. And others, obviously

Gaming: I play Pokémon GO! If you're a player as well, shoot me your friend code and I'll add you (:

Music: I'm a metalhead; metal is my favourite genre! But I also like (hard) rock and (folk) punk. My favourite metal subgenres are power metal and folk metal. But I can listen to movie/game soundtracks for weeks as well!

Music: Rammstein got me into the heavier stuff and is still an all-time favourite. I was a die-hard Volbeat fan for years, but I haven't felt drawn to their latest releases. My current favourite band is definitely Powerwolf (more wolves lol)! Other favourites are (among many others) Sabaton, Amon Amarth, Slipknot, Nightwish, Within Temptation, Dropkick Murphys, Flogging Molly, The Real McKenzies, Heilung, Wardruna, Eluveitie, and some amazing older stuff like Alice Cooper, Pink Floyd and E.L.O.

STAR WARS

This is where the fun begins

I've been a Star Wars fan for as long as I can remember

My brother and me used to watch the OT and Ep I on VHS when we were kids and were lucky enough to see Ep II and III in cinemas

I missed watching EP I in cinemas this May (due to its 25th anniversary) because I was moving homes during that time and I am still crying about that, see you in 5 years I guess

What I like about the Prequels: everything? Obviously the clones ahahaha. But kinda everything. The setting, the plot, the characters, the tragedy. I know there's a lot of hate on the writing, but I grew up with them and I think they're awesome. Definitely not perfect, but (and please don't hate me) I would choose the Prequels over the OT anytime. Also the meme material coming from this?? Legendary.

What I like about the OT: the story and the characters! It felt less complicated back then, more about good and evil (there's a lot of grey area now, which is obviously more realistic; but as a kid growing up with the movies, good vs evil was less complicated)

What I like about the Sequels: BB-8, porgs, and the Somehow Palpatine Returns-meme, that's it. Maybe Poe Dameron, but that's probably because it's Oscar Isaac.

I also VERY MUCH like Rogue One; what a wonderful and sad story. I won't shut up about how much I love how this story blends into Ep IV/the OT; I think this was so well done, I- aaaaaaah I love it

What I like about the animated shows: CLONES. Clonesclonesclones. And Ahsoka. And a lot more, but at this time, the clone brainrot is real. I actually really like how some things are further explained in the animated shows (I think they're a real addition to the movies/story). And the angst and the tragedy, ugh my heart. Also the animation style of course! And clones, did I mention the clones?

Favourite characters (non-clones): Ahsoka Tano, Darth Vader, Obi-Wan Kenobi (prequel era), Plo Koon, Aayla Secura, probably Darth Maul too, Jyn Erso

Favourite clones: Hunter (he started it), Fives (I cannot put into words how much I love and feel for this man I just need to wrap my arms around him and tell him it's alright and that he and the clones deserve so much better and that I'm there to listen to him and it's going to be okay I'm going to make all his problems go away and also some adult stuff I'm not going to write here), Echo (my beloved), Wolffe (awooooooo), Cody (good man that Cody), Rex (obviously), Fox (you matter but please stop drinking caf and get some sleep), Vaughn (my love, my heart, my soul; I would die for you) (> I get obsessed over a different clone pretty often but it's safe to say I love all clones)

Favourite droids: R2-D2, Chopper, BB-8, Gonky, K-2SO, (also BD-1 is super cute), the droids helping out Ahsoka during Shattered/Victory and Death (R7-A7, CH-33P, RG-G1), mouse droids, (I haven't played Outlaws yet but I have normal feelings about ND-5)

Favourite animals: loth wolf (duh), tooka, massiff, varactyl, acklay

I used to collect Star Wars LEGO and Hasbro and I would love to put those on a shelf/into a cabinet one day

I would love to go to some sort of fan con one day but I'm afraid I won't survive all the stimuli/amount of people there

I did visit the Star Wars Exhibition in Brussels somewhere in the late 2000s/early 2010s; it was kriffing majestic

I used to play Star Wars Battlefront II (2005) with my brother all the time. We played it so much the disc got damaged by the PlayStation 2 itself and obviously we bought it again to keep playing

I played Jedi: Fallen Order (2019) and it was awesome! I really need to replay it so I can play Jedi: Survivor (2023) afterwards (haven't played it yet, I need to get myself a PlayStation 5 first, RIP)

Since we're talking about PlayStation 5, I'm dying to play Outlaws (2024) help (I need to know what is happening between Kay and ND-5??)

I really want to play Republic Commando (2005) (I even have a PS4 copy laying around) but haven't found the time yet

LASTLY

So one of my other hyperfixations is Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron (2002), the 2D-animated movie by DreamWorks. (I know, I'm super weird; I'm a metalhead switching between Star Wars and an animated movie about horses (and some other hyperfixations but let's not go there).) I even created a fansite, if anyone's interested (which has still lots of WIP-pages I'm sorry I'm into Star Wars at the moment)

Alright that was a lot of super random information no one asked about. If you've come this far, holy kark my utmost respect to you, please leave a comment so I can send over some cookies because you kriffing deserved them?? I might consider writing a ficlet for you.

Return to navigation

#lonewolflupe #lonewolflupe rambles

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bloopitynoot · 1 month ago

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Reading SVSSS: Bonus- Chapter 25

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

Back with a chapter! This one was so short (and also more pain what the heck. Thankfully NOT as bad as the previous one).

The tea this morning is peppermint <3

The first sentence, "Zhuzhi-Lang had known for a long, long time that it was a disgusting monster". p119 You're not a monster ZZL! Your parents were just freaks 😭

Tianlang-Jun is serving Miranda from Devil Wears Prada in this and I can't. The sass, audacity, and CONFIDENCE this man has. Tianlang-Jun basically: "unfortunate appearance. Well, this is your job now so do it correct". p120

AND THEN he gives ZZL a glowup! p122

I mean not really wrong. Tianlang-jun is here for a good time not really a long time with the way he indulges and makes life choices. "Though Zhuzhi-lang firmly believed that his lord could do no wrong, he secretly thought that his lord's brain actually wasn't too sharp" p123

Why is Tianlang-jun iconic as fuck though. Need a new name? This is one of my fav poetry books. Aha! Here we go "Zhuzhi-jun" p124

omg poor Tianlang-jun. His heartbreak post Bai Lu Mountain. :(((( my heart: "In the plays I've read, maidens from the Human Realm are unanimously gentle as water, considerate and charming: hence, I thought all maidens would be like this. So, I've been lied t. Zhuzhi-Lang, one can't read too many plays" p126

and this man has 0 concept of money. Thank fuck for Zhuzhi-lang honestly because the DILF would be in serious trouble. p127

I'm with Zhuzhi-lang on this one. The fact that Tianlang-jun couldn't smell the plot that was his sugar momma is frankly quite alarming. How did this man survive to this point? pp130-131

TLJ had such a rough go. The time he spent imprisoned was so rough. Poor guy was basically just trapped in his own mind losing it entirely. pp132-133

I'm SCREAMING at the way in which TLJ wanted to set up ZZL with SQQ. oh no ahahahaha p135

The tent scene is so much funnier now that I know TLJ basically scripted the scene for his own enjoyment LOL This guy is really living to write his own romcom p137

ugh the way this ended. I don't know who had the worst story in this series, but ZZL is sure up there :(( p138

I love that slithery bastard though

My heart for this guy. His story really never got much better and it's the worst because most of it was self inflicted. He's like, "yeah I'm a monster and this is my fate". Poor buddies.

#bloopitynoot reads svsss #svsss spoilers #mxtx svsss #svsss #scum villans self saving system #scum villain #zhuzhi lang #I love that snake man #also the DILF that is Tianlang-jun

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chrollogy · 27 days ago

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STORY QUEST: YUSCARA

A wandering puppet and a human—an indestructable immortal and a mortal. Some would deem this a cruel fate orchestrated by the universe, a love born out of a cursed destiny but the two see it as no such. Despite their differences, what grows from their unity is a bond even the heavens cannot interfere with.

desiderium / des·i·de·ri·um / : an ardent desire or longing.

butterfly: symbolises hope throughout time.

slow burn, mutual pining, strangers to lovers, immortal x mortal

Kuni (About Yue): A skilled scholar in her respective Darshan. Too bad she spends most of her days at the House of Daena snoozing away while her assignments pile up, and it falls on me to keep her in check. What am I? A babysitter? Hmph. She should be thankful I’m willing to look after her. Hm? Some Akademiya students are curious about my relationship with Yue, you say? Heh. Well, aren’t they nosy. They’ve got the wrong idea if they think I’m willing to share stories with— What? Yue told them? Ugh.

Yue (About Kuni): It looks like he always has a temper for no apparent reason but that’s just how he really is. Underneath all that nonchalance, Kuni is extremely sweet and caring! — Haha. Don’t tell him I said that, though! I just don’t know why it doesn’t extend to our acquaintances . . Nonetheless, I’m grateful for him, and I make sure he knows that as well. He’s intelligent, extremely talented, charismatic, and— Huh, what did you say? Fellow scholars call him ‘Hat Guy’ ? Pffft! Ahahahaha! I can already see his face contorting with annoyance.

DESIDERIUM CHAPTER LORE:

Act 1: Awkward Encounters

Act 2: Unbreakable Bond

Act 3: More Than A Letter

selfship tag | vibe! | visuals | genshin!yue

#yuscara #self ship #quickly posting this and running away #only cause dash is dead so i can get this on here ehe #i spent a good hour or two in canva making that header like the ones in genshin story quests for the characters hehe #yuscara is like fluff overload but also doomed by the narrative because of his immortality and my human life span #not writing a fic per se but more of a little glimpse into our lore hehe im so excited #aldjkssk also thank u marena for telling me that yuscara gives ‘so this is love’ vibes ><#this is purely self indulgent #if you don’t want to see this then unfollow or block me :3 no hard feelings !!

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dangermousie · 2 months ago

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Oh my GOD this is amazing, of course she tracked him down. Just like the Mounties, this lady always gets her man and mounts him.

I love that he's not even surprised any more ahahahaha he totes expected it and all he's got is a certain weariness. Ahahaha. But also she has zero fear of him and he doesn't even blink at her badgering and haranguing him ahahaha.

This is amazing. I love it.

I've said it before and I will say it again. She's got that patented crazy sfl realness but directed at a totally appropriate target in the most awesome way.

I love how the terror of the desert isn't even angry or anything, just conversational ahahahaha.

I LOVE HER THE GIRL HAS BIGGER BALLS THAN ANY OF THE MEN IN THIS

I love that you can tell he's drawn in by that actually. He really is. He's silent for a good long while.

But ultimately of course he rejects it.

She is so insane and I love her. But then only someone truly bonkers would stalk and chase a bandit king all over the desert or, for that matter, proclaim "you didn't have me, I had you" after they banged.

Under all the mannerisms, he clearly does not want her to die. But the interesting thing is his phrasing. It implies he did care for someone at some point.

Bwahahahah this is amazing. Of course she goes with. Of course she gets the last word. Should have been less hot, bandit boy.

#cdrama #gao yang #guan chang #love in the desert

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inhuman-obey-me · 11 months ago

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CONGRATS ON 4K+ FOLLOWERS!!!🎉 You two are so awfully talented I can't even put into words, really. Here's to many more!

May I request: 🥡 (Can’t fight these cravings in the night.) with Beel + MC Included, please?

(ALSO IS THE PROMPT LYRICS TO MOTIONLESS IN WHITE'S WEREWOLF BC I LOVE THAT SONG)

Ahhh, thank you for your kind words!! ( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵) ♡ We're so grateful people like our stuff enough for us to have reached this point, especially with how many times we've fallen into inactivity. Thank you so much for your support!!!!

And, ahahahaha, you got us, it seems we've finally been called out on using lyrics in our prompts. Yes, we also love that song!! In fact, we're both big MIW fans, so for anyone else who likes them, see if you can spot what other lyrics we put on the prompt list ;)

"Can’t fight these cravings in the night." - Beel/MC

Unlike his twin, Beelzebub rarely remains asleep the whole night through.

Some nights, he twists and tosses in his bed, trying to shake off the specters haunting his dreams, then wakes suddenly, his heart racing. On others, it's simply the call of hunger that jerks him from his slumber, his grumbling stomach demanding satisfaction at any hour. Other times still, he wakes without any reason at all. Sometimes, it's all three, pulling him from sleep over and over throughout the night.

He looks up at the gentle golden glow coming off the solar design on his wall, barely illuminating the room just enough to navigate, before his gut begins its growling demands. It's no use to try to go back to sleep; he can't fight these cravings in the night for long.

With a shake of his head, he slides out of bed and quietly makes his way towards the door, glad that Belphie sleeps heavily enough never to be disturbed by his movements. In the short trek from his room to the kitchen, he can feel his stomach growing emptier and emptier, until his vision starts to blur, and he's holding himself back from gnawing off the door itself.

He grabs the first thing within reach off the table and gorges upon it without hesitation. Guilt nibbles at the edge of his mind as he vaguely registers the shape of something like a drawn-on face upon his tongue -- some special treat of Levi's, probably, and he'll get chewed out for it in the morning, no doubt. But the voracious growling of his stomach drowns those thoughts out easily, and he forgets quickly as he lumbers his way dizzily forward. It doesn't matter what it is, as long as it sates the hunger long enough to reach the fridge.

His sight comes back into focus as he reaches for the fridge's handle, only to realize it's already open, with the shadowed silhouette of someone sitting in front of its heady glow, peeking over the door at him with mild terror in their eyes.

"Beel, it's me," you breathe in a nervous hush.

Your voice rings distant through the fog of hunger, buzzing in his head like swarms of flies -- or maybe those are his own wings, clicking behind him in voracious frenzy. This isn't the first time you've caught him midnight snacking, but it's usually the other way around, when he's already deep into his feasting.

He reaches a hand past you without answer, without eye contact, no sign of even having heard you, fingers closing rapaciously around whatever food they can find. Your presence is calming to him, always has been, ever since the day he decided to make his pact with you, but that's not enough right now. He doesn't trust himself not to devour you whole. He needs to eat, he is starving, and you smell so delicious.

So he reaches past you, grabbing whatever he can, and he eats. He eats, and eats, and eats, until the buzzing stops, and finally, his belly isn't screaming its emptiness anymore.

You're still standing there beside him, and he realizes you've been handing him things as he ate, snacks from the cupboards to sate him and glasses of water from the sink to help him wash them down. The fear is gone from your face, replaced only with worry.

Well, he did consume half the fridge's contents within minutes, after all.

He wraps you up in a big bear hug, expressing only a blunt, "Thank you," and his embrace is tight but warm, and full of relief.

"Are you feeling better now?" you ask, giving him a light squeeze in return.

"Yeah, for now. I might wake up hungry again later. Though, I feel better having you here with me. Like my stomach is less angry, somehow. But I think I'm okay now, so I'll go back to bed. You should probably go back to bed too. Belphie always says you don't get enough rest."

You're quiet for a moment, thinking, and then answer, "Well, why don't I come sleep next to you? If you wake up again, I'll make you something properly to eat."

"Are you sure?" he asks. To be honest, the thought of eating your cooking has him salivating all over again, but he doesn't want to ask too much of you.

"Yeah. I sleep better in your room sometimes, anyway."

Nodding firmly, he takes your hand, leading you back to the twins' room, where Belphie is still sleeping peacefully, unaware. Quietly careful not to disturb the youngest brother, you climb into his bed together, snuggling up close. He can smell raspberries and vanilla caramel on your breath -- the pudding you had snacked on before he'd come in, probably. The last thing he thinks before drifting back to sleep is how sweet of a scent it is, just like you.

When he wakes again, it's morning already, and you're giving him a gentle poke on the nose.

"Good morning, Beel. Did you sleep okay?"

#obey me #obey me!#obey me swd #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me nightbringer #omnb #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub x mc #obey me beelzebub x reader #obey me beel x mc #obey me beel x reader #obey me fic #obey me drabble #writings #drabble #4000 follower celebration #mod chaos in the devildom

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trashyswitch · 1 month ago

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Day 8: Nuzzles

049 and 999 are allowed to have yet another visit! Not only that, but a new researcher has come to observe the visit this time: Dr. Collingwood. Typical fun ensues between the creatures.

Part 4 of 049 and the ‘Unkillable’ Creature. Part 3

ON TIME, BABY! Hope you all enjoy!

“Hello SCP-049.” Dr. Itkin spoke up on the intercom.

“Good afternoon, Doctor. Any further report on 999’s health?” 049 asked him.

“Indeed we do.” Mr. Itkin could be heard shuffling some papers around. “SCP-999 has been doing much better. As a result, your session with 999 will go ahead as planned.” Dr. Itkin told him.

“Wonderful!” He declared. “I will await his arrival with enthusiasm.” 049 told the doctor.

“Now, SCP-999 has a new researcher on its case. Her name is Dr. Collingwood, and I’m wondering if you would allow her to observe you with 999.” Dr. Itkin asked him.

“Her?” 049 asked.

“Yes, Dr. Collingwood is female.” Dr. Itkin explained. “Is this a problem?”

“No no no…I have no dissension with female doctors, so long as she has a university diploma.” 049 told them.

“Here in the SCP Foundation, we make sure every scientist and medical personnel has an up-to-date medical license.” Dr. Itkin reassured him.

“That’s wonderful to hear.” He said.

“Alright. Opening the door now.” Dr. Itkin clicked a button on the side, and watched as 999 slithered itself into the room.

“Hello 999.” 049 declared.

999 let out many excited gurgling sounds as it bounced and clapped its pseudopods together. It slid itself right up to 049, before stretching itself up and hugging 049 comfortably. The gurgling kept going for a little longer, before 999 let go of him.

“Are you feeling better now, little one?” 049 asked.

999 nodded its head eagerly before sliding up to the chest at the right side of the room.

“Oh, I suppose you found the toy chest?” 049 asked him.

999 placed its pseudopods on the under crease of the toy chest lid, and tried to push the lid up. But the toy chest lid was heavier than it was expecting. It let out gurgly, grunting noises as it heaved again, and stopped…before heaving and trying to lift it again…But it was just too heavy.

And the little cherry on the cake…was the moment that 999 slowly turned its ‘head’ towards 049, with the biggest sad look on its face.

As Dr. Itkin looked down to write the observations, a somewhat surprising sound filled the speaker from the containment cell;

“Hehehe- Hehehehehe-! Ahahahaha!”

999’s sad face quickly morphed into a surprised look as it backed up slightly and stared at 049. Wait…Was 049…laughing at me? But…why? Why is he laughing? What did I do to make him laugh?

“Sohohorry, hahaha! Juhust- just the slohohow look towards mehehehe!” 049 tried to explain. “Yohohou juhust looked- Hahahaha! Soho defeated!” 049 barely got out of his mouth through his laughter.

999 stared at him, looking almost confused by this point. The poor thing had no idea what was going on, and why 049 was laughing…but a small smile began to fill 999’s face as it finally understood.

049 was laughing at my little reaction! I made 049 laugh without tickle wrestling him!

YAY!!! This is HUGE!!

999 cheered and jumped around like a little ball, looking utterly proud of itself.

In the observation room, Dr. Collingwood was typing up her observations. “Wow…999 really can change everyone’s mood…” Dr. Collingwood mentioned.

“Yup…He’s a wonderful specimen.” Dr. Itkin replied.

In the room, 049 had settled down and pulled out a marble-looking ball. “Now 999: This ball is a little different. One of the doctors gave this to me with the notion that it bounces much, much more than the ball we had last time.” 049 told him.

999 nodded its head and held up its pseudopods, waiting for 049 to throw it.

049 bounced the ball on the floor, and watched it bounce up and down, up and down towards 999. And just as 049 explained, the ball bounced around 5 times before it made it to 999.

Surprised that the ball was bouncing so much, 999 watched the ball the entire time, bouncing itself along with the ball. When the ball went up, 999 would stretch itself up. When the ball dropped to the ground, 999 would shrink down with a little *Splat* sound. Once the ball reached it, 999 grabbed the ball with its body, and gently ‘spat’ it out towards the floor.

The way 999 ‘threw’ the ball, meant the ball bounced a few inches off the ground about 8 times, before reaching 049.

“Not bad, 999. Though, I feel like you could bounce it better.” 049 encouraged.

999 nodded its head and got ready for the ball. When it was ready, 049 threw the ball down, and watched it bounce up and down towards the gelatinous ball. When it got closer to 999, it caught the ball with one of its pseudopods.

999 held it up in the air…and gave the ball a big throw towards the ground.

BOING! BOING!

The ball bounced all over the place! Up, down, and all around! It was like a rubber projectile!

“Uh oh…” Dr. Collingwood muttered.

“Get down!” Dr. Itkin said through the intercom.

“GAH!” 049 jumped behind the bed in an attempt to hide from the small, but quick ball. Seeing the ball moving absolutely everywhere, 999 stretched itself up and attempted to catch the bouncy ball. But to everyone’s surprise, the ball shot straight through 999’s body like a bullet! It shot through from the back to the front, leaving a small hole in 999’s body.

The ball kept on bouncing around the room, only somewhat lessening its speedy momentum. With 999 being in the middle of the room, the ball shot through the creature 4 more times, leaving more holes in the creature.

049 was still hiding behind the bed, fearful that the ball would hit him in the face. But right as he peeked up to find where it went, the ball bounced on the wall right above the plague doctor! Sensing how close it was to hitting him, 049 pulled his head back behind the bed with a little whimper.

Seeing the ball heading towards the creature, 999 put out 3 pseudopods to catch the ball with its pods. This gave the doctors a little bit of hope…Maybe 999 can catch it!

…Only for the ball to shoot straight through the pseudopods and continue bouncing around wildly. The pseudopods didn’t even slow the ball down! The ball shot through without a second thought, treating the pods like it was just mist.

Finally, 049 raised his hand up, and managed to catch the ball right as it was heading for the wall.

“Got it.” 049 declared, looking at the bouncy ball in his gloved hand.

“Well done, 049!” Dr. Collingwood reacted.

“Thank you.” 049 said. “I suppose I won this game of trigon?” The plague doctor asked, somewhat playfully.

The celebration paused for a moment when 049 felt something tackle him down. Recognizing the color of the blob and the gurgling sound, 049 calmed down slightly. “It’s okay now, 999.”

“999 appears to be scared.” 049 said.

“Awww…” Dr. Collingwood muttered.

“He’s nuzzling into my neck a little bit…” 049 admitted, looking down at the creature. 999 rubbed itself further into his neck, nearly engulfing half his neck and shoulder region in its goo. “Are yohou okay, 999?” He asked, petting the creature. “Hohold ohon…” 049 muttered, curling his body in slightly. “Hehehehey!” “What’s he doing, 049?” Dr. Itkin asked on the intercom.

“Whahahat doho you thihihink?!” 049 reacted.

“I believe 999’s giving him ticklish nuzzles.” Dr. Collingwood told the doctor.

“Yeheheah!” 049 yelped suddenly. “W-Wahahait! C-Cahaharefuhuhul!” 049 reacted.

999’s growing excitement was evident almost right away…Or rather, it was to Dr. Collingwood.

999’s little teasy gurgles could easily be heard through the speaker. It looked overjoyed to be nuzzling into 049’s neck. How it was able to find his neck was a mystery in and of itself. But regardless, it didn’t seem too difficult to get him giggling again.

“049?” Dr. Collingwood said through the speaker.

“Whahahat?” 049 replied.

“I think it’s trying to apologize to you for scaring you with the ball.” Dr. Collingwood explained.

049 nodded his head. “Ihihi fihigured as suhuch.” He said. “Nohohot too mahahany tihickles, alrihight?” 049 asked 999.

999 removed its ‘face’ from 049’s neck, and nodded its ‘head’ in equal understanding. With that decided, 999 continued the nuzzling. However, 049’s laughter seemed to die down a little bit. It was safe to see that 999 was now lessening the tickles as it nuzzled him.

“Thahat’s behehetter. Thahank you, nihine-nine-nine.” 049 told it.

999 removed its face from his neck, and planted a little gelatinous peck on 049’s mask. This little peck was small, but still visible enough to the naked eye of the scientists.

Dr. Itkin widened his eyes. “Did-Did 999 just kiss you?” He asked.

“...I do believe so…” 049 muttered.

“Awww! That’s really sweet!” Dr. Collingwood reacted.

“It…It is…” 049 mumbled. “I’m not sure how I feel about this…” He admitted. “I may have to think about this.” 049 told them.

“Sounds good. 999, please head to the door, and we will escort you out.” Dr. Itkin said through the intercom.

And with that, another little ‘playdate’ was over…And 049 was left speechless and surprised by the little extra piece of affection. To say it blew his mind, would be an understatement. It was a sweet gesture, sure, but…Why? And more importantly…

What did he do to earn that kiss?

#augtickletober2024 #day 8 #nuzzles #cute #scp-049 is nice #bouncy ball #observations #ticklefic #ler!999 #lee!049

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smilingangel582 · 7 months ago

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The early of Phantomhive is finally going to school! Black butler Public School Arc is really amazing!

I mean... I need a lee!ciel so I decided to write one for him after a long time!

Warning spoilers for black butler season 4

Bocchan's remedy

For the millionth time. Clayton asks Ciel to prepare tea and cakes. Indeed, traditions are a boor!

The young Earl is meant to be working on his desk... not doing butler duties for a nobody. Aghast and aggravated, Ciel would complain about this to Sebastian every now and then. Even in different contexts, Sebastian still is the house master... a handy position.

Sebastian would let an amused chuckle as he placed his young master's tea, "Bocchan, you'll get wrinkles if you Frown so much"

Clenching his fist, Ciel barks. "Oh? You're enjoying yourself, aren't you, you mutt!"

Sebastian teasingly eyes the young boy with alluring demonic mischief "now now, Bocchan, did you forget why you are here? Indeed, it is wise if you at least do more of those poses and sweet gestures that are such a rarity"

Ciel's eyebrow twitched "As if! Never again! I feel more humiliated copying Macmilliam's pose, honestly seniors..."

"Perhaps..." Now steering behind Ciel's chair carefully, "We could perform the usual exercise...?"

Frown, Ciel didn't look back at Sebastian as he finished his tea with pompous ease, "Exercise? What are u blabbering about... we did no such thing..."

"You don't recollect young master?"

Feeling Sebastian loom over behind him, Ciel got conscious and decided to turn back but Sebastian had already snared the Web and began to prod his sides gently.

"O-oi! What is this?" Ciel looks devastated. Eventually recalling the terrible 'exercise' the latter mentioned.

"Now, phantomhive-kun... lighten up because as the house master I should try my best to cheer you up" Sebastian properly cornered him over the chair, now tickling Ciel's tender ribs with light and nimble touches.

Ciel resists and squirms, "D-dont t-touch your m-master so cahahasually -no!"

A giggle slipped, one after the other like an overflowing glass of water. Sebastian should like to stop when ordered, but... Sebastian needs a proper one to be completely stopped. He won't let Ciel speak a word... until he begs for mercy for once.

Ciel's cheeks flushed red, now slowly sinking down from the chair. Sebastian swiftly pulls him into his arms, knowing its unacceptable to have his little lord dirty on the floor.

"Hah! S-Sebas! Oi! Hahaha, cut ihihit out!"

Ushering in a softer tone, Sebastian hits a particular sensitive spot to make the earl double over with uncontrollable giggles, "Young master whatever did you say? Your giggles are becoming quote contagious..."

"No! Hahaha p-pl-" instantly ciel cuts himself. Sebastian widened his large crimson orbs, "Oh? Bocchan? Did I hear it right?"

Blushing furiously, Ciel opened his mouth to yell but only more shrieks of sweet rare laughter left from his mouth, "Ahahahaha unhahahand! Hahaha cohohome ohohon!"

Sebastian knew the right spots to stop ciel from ordering Sebastian. This lesson will do for now... just one last spot...

"Noo! Not there!" Ciel clamped a hand to his lips to stop his embarrassingly adorable shrill, Sebastian snicker softly, trying sneak his fingers up his ribs, "My, my sensitive armpits? Bochchan, you've gotten more sensitive... oh, I mean Phantomhive-kun!"

"Dohohoho not address hehehe mehehe lihihihike thahahat whehehen we ahahare aloooone!" In the end, he didn't sound threatening and realise he should've saved up that line for an order. Honestly! Ciel is gonna severely punish this butler!

Eventually, Sebastian stopped. Grinning in an inhuman way, "Now phantomhive-kun," he pressed a finger to his lips, eyeing the exit door where another knock came.

Ciel grumbled with tired giggles, "Y-you bahastard! Ugh!"

Feeling helpless, Ciel straightened to a less-flustered look, despite still having reddish cheeks, "T-thank you, sensei..."

The next boy enters with a gleaming smile. Ciel gave him one dirty look to show his dissatisfaction of teaching ways, though Sebastian gives a mere mocking smile, pretending to be innocent.

Closing the door behind him, Ciel groaned, "That demon! Has everyone fooled but me!"

#lee!ciel #black butler #kuroshitsuji #ler!sebastian #public school arc #tickle fic #cute #i love sebastian

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ria-writes-stories · 7 months ago

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Self care day

Ship: Nuzi Genre: Fluff/Cotton Description: The sillies going to the mall

@maryalezoo --------------

(No one's pov)

Since murder drones, well one of the last living murder drones, stopped killing worker drones, Uzi had all that she needed to go out and explore. Not that she couldn't kill another murder drone again but killing her friend wouldn't be beneficial. How would he fly her to one of those abandoned malls if she did? "Uh- Uzi, this place looks wasted." "Well duh, it's been abandoned for so long, we just need to find the power generator, turn it on and we should have some electricity running around for the lights…" "I dunno Uz…" N said as he looked around skeptical fiddling with his hands. "Oh come on! There's no hollow spooky crab here! Come on!" Uzi said grabbing N's hand as she began to run through the mall with him. "WOAH-" "COME ON! KEEP UP!" Uzi said giggling, she seemed really excited to explore this abandoned building for some reason, N didn't understand why, but it made him happy that she was happy. So, he soon began to run with her as well.

At some point during the run N took off with his wings. "HEY! NOT FAIR!" Uzi shouted as N simply laughed as he spun around in the air, but when he looked back Uzi was gone, and oh boy that panic hit him harder than a truck. "Uzi-? Uzi? UZI!" N shouted out as he looked around desperate. Was there anyone else in the building besides them? What if there was another murder drone around? What if something got her? What if she got lost? Oh no! Uzi in the meantime was laughing her ass off behind a corner, covering her mouth as to not to make too much sound.

For the next ten minutes N went around like a mad dog on the loose while Uzi constantly hid as quiet as she could, moving from one place to another as he searched for her. N took a moment to breath in when he suddenly heard a small snicker. But soon enough that went quiet as joy and laughter were replaced with shock and horror as Uzi looked up at N with confusion deep burried in her eyes. His eyes were turned into that awful X and his sharp teeth were threatening to bite. Uzi stayed quiet as N pinned her down, what happened? Did he overheat and went into overwrite? Did- He started to laugh… "Bahahahahaha!" "Hey!" "You should have seen your face Uzi- ahahahaha!" Uzi punched him in the shoulder as N continued to laugh. "You started it!" N reminded her as she mumbled and crossed her hands and looked away mumbling, but she then got her idea for revenge.

"Hey! I know where to go, I saw a shop somewhere down this floor." "Aren't we looking for that power generator?" "Eh, screw it, it's old and broken most likely. Come on, this will be much better." "Ok! Just… don't do that again." "Says the one that doesn't listen to those exact words." "When since prom have I got split into half?" N asked as he followed close behind Uzi as the girl simply rolled her eyes.

As N continued to follow her, Uzi suddenly squalled and rushed into one of the shops. N looked up at what was written above it. "Hot…topic? What's hot topic?" "N! LOOK AT THIS!" The sudden tonality change in Uzi's voice startled him and it made him so very sure that she was actually in danger, but instead she was holding…hair pins? "Uh…what?" "Look how many things are here! Oh I've waited forever to be into one of these!" Uzi said as she ran around through the shop digging through the anime merchandise and the emo-goth accessories and clothes. "You…want to try some of these on?" N asked confused as he looked around at the stuff that were there. "YES!" Uzi said excitedly. None of this was his style… He was more…elegant to say so, or at least simple. He was used to a whole different style of clothes but he'd go with whatever made her happy. "Okay!" N said with a small smile as he gave her one of the accessories from the higher shelves. "Don't just stand there idiot! Go get dressed up too!" Uzi urged him as she pushed him out of the store. "W-wait what?!" "You heard me!" "But I don't know what to even-"

"Not with clothes from here! Go somewhere else!" "Why…?" "Don't you want new clothes?" "I'm fine with my coat honestly-" "N. Go find clothes. Come on you'll like it. You can dress with whatever you like and find." "But…" "Come ooooooooon, we'll meet here afterwards!" "Well, alright then-" "Cool! And don't peek in here if you finish earlier than me!" Uzi said before going into one of the changing rooms there as N was left more confused than ever before he roamed around the place looking for a shop similar to the one he found for his costume and V's dress. Maybe it was due to N's weird visions of himself in that butler suit, but he had a thing for fancier and more elegant things, simple but stylish. If you'd ask him what stylish is he'd ask if it's a dog, he only knows the word 'dapper' and he can only 'feel' what he likes. He's a little goofster like that.

Eventually N found a shop filled with suits, and oh boy the headache to find one that looked good on him. Those his size weren't appealing, the color yellow was just out of the question, his eyes were yellow too so it didn't work. Grey, white and silver were also poor choices. He tried black and white but it was too… plain and it gave him a bad feeling, like in his dreams… He ended up walking out of the shop like a watered down dog. He really did want to participate in this thing Uzi was doing but he just didn't know how.

As he was walking back he spotted something on one of the stores. A back pack. A black backpack with tiny wings like the one's of a bat. The first thing that he thought of when he saw that was Uzi, so he did the most natural thing, take it. Maybe he couldn't find things for himself…but maybe he could find something for her!

N's mood changed entirely to joyful as he began to roam around the mall collecting various items, a flashlight, some batteries to make it work, and others that gave what he called 'detective dapper items for great adventures!'

By the time Uzi got out N was already there, waiting patiently outside of the shop with his tail waggling from side to side. ". . .?" Uzi looked confused as N seemed to be holding something behind himself. "Did…you find something to your liking?" Uzi asked puzzled. "Nope! But I found something for you!" N said with a bright joyful smile as he held out the backpack filled with the various items inside. Uzi gasped in surprise as he took the backpack and analyzed it. Soon enough a small blush crept on her face as she looked away flustered. "I… didn't find anything for myself either… Those things were great but not me style… so uhm…" Uzi said as he held out a coat that was probably N's size. It was made out of far better quality and it had very fluffy fur at the scurf, far more cozy than what N have…as well as a camper costume. "I found these tho… So I thought I could-" N practically snatched the clothes out of her hands as she looked at them absolutely mesmerised. Uzi did pay attention to him…she did!

A few days prior

"Uzi, what's a camp consoler?" "Hm? Oh, it's an adult that takes care of a group of campers, basically people going out in the wild to sleep out in nature and do all sorts of activities." "Woah! So- you get to have fun with a bunch of people?" "I mean- yeah but you are also responsible for their safety and-" "That's so cool!" N said happily as Uzi looked at him confused. "What?" "I'd love to be a camp consoler with you Uzi! We could have so much fun!" "I don't want to be one-" "Then I can be the camp consoler for you!" N said happily. "We'd have so much fun! What do you even do in a camp?" "Well… there are various things for it and-" "Wait-! How do I have to dress for it? I can't wear impractical clothes." "N, I don't think you even have clothes for that…" "Oh…" N said as he pouted a little as he looked away. "Stop thinking of that! Come on we got other things to do." Uzi scolded but she felt bad for him. "Oh- right! Ok!"

Present time

"So… I was thinking of getting to this camp but it's too big of a trip so, I talked with my teacher to make a camping trip and stuff…you could come along…with V… I will be searching for some answer regarding all of these things and-" N hugged Uzi tightly to his chest. "Thank you Uzi." He said happily as Uzi blushed heavily and looked away flustered. "You're welcome- h-hey! Let go of me!" "Why?" "Because- EEEEEP!" Uzi yelped as N began to spin around with her, making the poor worker drone dizzy. He got too excited…

By the time Uzi got on her feet she was barely holding balance and ended up falling, thankfully N was there to catch her. "Woah! Easy there!" "You're the one that spun me!" "Oh yeah- I'm sorry, let's sit down." "There's nowhere to sit." Uzi said holding her head but before she knew it N was sitting on the floor with her on his lap. As the realisation slowly sunk into Uzi her cheeks got warmer and warmer, and N noticed this, placing his hand on her forehead. "Are you ok Uzi?" "I'm fine! Stop asking!" Uzi said with a small frown as she slapped his hand away while looking away absolutely embarrassed.

Two clueless idiots, unsupervised and confused with their emotions, not that their parents, well, Uzi's parents- parent- not as if the older drone generation had a clue more of how to handle emotions and how they work but you get the point.

Why is it so hard to hang out with your guy friend? Why was it so hard to make your girl friend happy? Neither of them had answers, but they knew that they felt great in each other's pressence, nothing felt scary anymore, nothing felt bad anymore, and that was all that they needed after going through so much on their own. They finally found their home.

The end

#murder drones n #murder drones uzi #murder drones fanfiction #uzi murder drones #uzi doorman #md uzi doorman #serial designation n

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