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dipperscavern · 5 months ago

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THE BET - JON SNOW

pairing: jon snow x gn!reader, 4.2k words

synopsis: you’ve made a bet with jon snow — now begs the question, who will come out on top?

authors note: i heard the call for jon snow content, and this idea came to me in the middle of the night wearing dobby the elfs tea cozy. enjoy! <3 [ @eldrith ]

jon snow never considered himself a betting man.

he never considered himself a blushing one, either — or a swooning one. until he met you.

you bring out the best in him, it’s true. but you also (somehow) bring to light his playful side, the one he thought he left behind in winterfell; along with the games he, robb, and theon used to play, the peace of the godswood, the smell of the kitchens wafting through the corridors (stick them with the pointy end).

he had left it all at winterfell on purpose. he needed to shed jon, shed the princely stark-ness he’d grown up with (though he’d never consider himself a real one), and replace it with the black he adorned on his shoulders. ever since he knelt before the weirwood, swearing vows in the sight of the old gods, he was no longer boy — but man. and with that, he left the boyish attributes, replacing them by those of men. warriors. or, at least, he’d like to believe.

partaking in bets was one of the most boyish things he could do, but truly, he could not chide himself for it if he tried. it involves you — it involves making you smile. and that, he will never register as a thing needing scolding, even if it’s only internally.

it was painfully obvious to you and jon the way samwell tarly looked at gilly, daughter of the devil. you would know, it’s how you and jon spend your time looking at one another. sam is head over heels for gilly, always helping her to the best of his abilities, advocating for her, looking at her as if she hung the stars and the moon… yes, samwell tarly was smitten.

you and jon both knew gilly was taken with sam. gilly knew she was taken with sam. the only one who didn’t know gilly was taken with sam, was sam himself.

you and jon are rather protective over sam and gilly both, so while you’d kill and die for them, you’ve left their feelings to be sorted out themselves. of course, you give advice when asked, and perhaps give one a nudge in the right direction on occasion, but is it really meddling if it’s for a good cause?

the true reason sam had kept his feelings to himself so far, was an extremely sweet one. he didn’t want gilly to think he was just using her, or didn’t genuinely care for her. he didn’t want her to be able to look at him and see her father. well, that, and he was shy — but that was one of the things you and jon liked about sam. it somehow made him sweeter.

either way, even with his profound saint-like mindset, you could tell sam was getting closer to telling gilly how he really felt. you saw the way he would open his mouth to say something, how gilly would give him her full attention, then how he’d shrink back down, letting his nerves get the best of him.

sam only grew more frustrated as time went on (never with gilly, only himself). when asked, sam would stumble out something like-

“Gilly — oh, right, she’s um — she’s great...” with a defeated look in his eye, leaving before you could ask further.

staring at her (more than usual), never being able to fully concentrate when she was near. he’d always start to approach her, then let his nerves steer him in the other direction. gilly was now all sam could think about, it being the only topic of conversation jon could coax out of him. sure, it began to drive jon fairly mad, but it was better than the grumbling silence you’d endured at the start of his romantic-turmoil. samwell tarly was nearing the edge of insanity, and you & jon could both tell it wouldn’t be long yet. so, naturally, you’d made a bet.

“You know, I think Sam’s really gonna do it.”

your voice cut through the silence as you and jon cleaned up the mess hall. right now, you were looking out a window, watching sam and gilly have a conversation. sam was fidgeting, the way he always does when he’s nervous.

“You must not know him very well, then.” jon says. you turn to give jon an exasperated look, barely concealing the roll of your eyes. he looks up at you, and you see the upward quirk of his lips that tells you he finds this — the joint disagreeing — truly enjoying.

“I mean it,” you say, touching your tongue to the roof of your mouth, turning back to resume observing them. as gilly and sam share a smile, a noise akin to one you’d make seeing a small puppy rises from the back of your throat, voice softening. “Awh— Jon, look at them.”

this does the trick of grabbing jon’s attention, and he stops his table-scrubbing to come join you at the window. he shakes his head, exhaling through his nose. “It’ll never happen,” he says.

“Gods, Snow,” the use of his surname in place of your usual (honey-dripping) ‘jon’ has his head snapping to you. “I didn’t take you for faithless.”

the chuckle jon lets slip has shivers crawling up your spine. you choose to ignore it. “I only mean,” he says, re-wetting his scrub brush. “that Sam is one to take it slow.” you turn to give him a look that has him backtracking.

“Slower than he has been,” he clarifies. he looks to you, and takes your lack of response as acceptance, moving to resume his table-scrubbing. you resume as well, and a few seconds pass before you stop, looking at jon with newfound defiance.

“No— your absence of faith does not deter me,” you say, pointing an accusing finger at jon. he bites back his smile at how cute you look in your retaliation. “Sam’s going to do it, I know this.”

jon takes the bait, setting down his scrub brush, leaning both hands against the table. “Alright, and I know he won’t.”

you scoff at his stubbornness. “He’ll approach her by the next moon’s turn.” you don’t give sam much time, the next moons turn being only a week away. you don’t give it any thought.

jon raises his brows. “And if he doesn’t?”

“Then you win.” you say, lightly shrugging. “Aye, I would. What would I get in return?” he asks, unrelenting. you search for something worthy to offer, but come up short. he fills in the gaps for you.

“Whatever I want?”

you nod. you usually wouldn’t put such a promise in a man of the nights watches hands, most being criminals & rapists, but it’s not just anyone you’re trusting. it’s jon. he’s safe.

“You’re on, Snow.” you say, returning to your table-scrubbing without further word than that. jon ignores the butterflies in his stomach, and attempts to scrub them away on the hard wood of the worn-out oak table.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

over the next week, you’re starting to become faithless; it seems the gods have abandoned you.

you thought his frustration would boil over, giving him the confidence he needed to confess, but yet again, samwell tarly has exceeded expectations in the department of pining.

jon silently relishes in his oncoming victory, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so — prone to smiling. whenever he sees you, he bites the inside of his cheek (or his tongue), in every effort to conceal the massive grin that threatens to erupt on his face. this only makes you grumble, and edds told you if you don’t stop rolling your eyes so much they’ll get stuck like that.

sam has peeled away from everything entirely, it seems. keeping his head down, only speaking when spoken to, always looking like he has something on his mind. he’s like this with everyone, jon, gilly, and you included. the nights watch is feeling the absence of their usual beam of light, and edds proclaimed if you, jon, and gilly aren’t being spoken to, then they all should keep an eye out for wildlings flying over the wall until further notice.

now, when you and jon see each other, it’s more silent than ever. you know if he opens his mouth it’ll be boasting proclamations of onset victory, and you can’t say if that happens you won’t put your hands on him. he seems to know this too, smart enough to keep to himself and not press your buttons. somehow this only frustrates you more. maybe if jon was more insufferable, you’d have a harder time loving him.

even with your own romantic dilemma, the main thing on your mind is sam, and the stupid bet you shouldn’t have made in the first place. you’ve tried leaving sam alone, forgetting about it entirely, praying, and even giving him a nudge in the right direction. making sure jon wasn’t near, then asking about his day, and after, about gilly — but iif you ask about gilly, you get the same record on repeat.

“What? Oh, Gilly, yeah… yeah she’s great. Working with Maester Aemon ‘nd… she’s great, really.” he’d say, fiddling with his hands, gaze trapped on the floor (or, if gilly was in the vicinity, on her).

your gaze would soften, but even you aren’t enough this time. “Sam, look, maybe you should—“

“Oh— I’ve got to go, I’m late for my meeting with Jon. Bye.. bye then!” he’d call, walking quickly in the other direction (not toward jon’s chambers), and as he walks away, you could almost see victory leaving with him.

by the end of the week, you and sam are in the same boat emotionally. jon thinks if you scrub the tables any harder you’ll break the wood, and this time, he doesn’t refrain from mentioning it.

“Careful.”

he means it in (half) good faith, but you glare at him all the same. and you see the shift in his tongue that means he’s biting down on it to stop his smile from appearing. you roll your eyes, and the image of edds face appears in your head as you do so.

you scrub angrily for the next few minutes, until you can’t bear it anymore.

“I can’t believe it. I actually can’t believe it, Jon.”

he glances up at you, a raise of his brows appearing as he speaks. “Who’s faithless now?”

“Don’t. You and I both know he was near to burst a week ago.” you say, crossing your arms and looking out the same window you did the night a bet was made.

jon makes a noise of disagreement, but (intelligently) doesn’t press any further.

“I just don’t get it. How can — how can you be so,” you look for the right wording, emotion punctuating your sentences. “so in love with someone without telling them?”

jon momentarily stops scrubbing, entire body pausing at your words. luckily for him, you’re too caught up with sam to notice. jon gets it.

“He doesn’t want to ruin what they have.” he says, and if you weren’t so frustrated, you’d pick up on the tone that says he isn’t just talking about sam and gilly. you come to sit at the bench of the table hes working on, and jon notices the color of your eyes bathed in the light exuding from the window.

“Right, but—“ you sigh, trying to string your thoughts together. “but they could have more. Isn’t it worth the risk, than to spend your time only being that? Always dancing on the edge of more?”

the sincerity jon can see in your eyes only makes his heart race, but it also makes him reflect on your relationship. jon’s in love with you, that much is easy to pinpoint, but do you love him? would you allow his tainted hands to sully you, if given the opportunity? jon’s gaze flickers to your lips, and returns back to your eyes.

though quick, in the silence, you notice it. you take pity, leaning back to allow jon his personal space (that you hadn’t even registered invading) back. he only wishes you’d return, even closer this time.

but he doesn’t say that. among all the things unspoken…

“Sam doesn’t think it worth the risk.” he decides, and he can see the gears turning in your head. he returns to light scrubbing to give you time to string your thoughts together. you don’t like speaking without correlation (the first thing jon learned about you).

a few seconds pass before you speak, and your voice is quieter than its usual volume. “Do you think it worth the risk?”

jon’s silence only prompts you to make the question clearer. “If you had the opportunity, would you risk it?”

would he? would he speak your name, of the devotion he harbors for you? he could take the risk, but what’s the rush? jon’s never considered his time with you limited. he shrugs.

“It depends,” he says. “On the person.. how long I have. Some are content where they stand.”

you nod, but he can tell that’s not the answer you were looking for. “I think so,” he adds as an afterthought. you seem content with it, and brush his knuckles in passing as you return to your own table. it makes his heart jump.

jon would think it accidental if he didn’t know you so well.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

you think you could smell jon’s amusement from anywhere you stand in castle black.

the moon turns tonight, and sam seems no closer now than he was a week ago. the jest is on you for putting faith in the confidence of cowards.

you’re perfectly content to avoid jon for the entirety of the day, and even worse, he seems content to let you. you meet each others eyes in passing, and while your gaze is defeated, his is only cloaked with half-amused sympathy (accompanied by that smile he adorns only when he’s with you). if you looked closer, you don’t doubt you could find some arrogance in there, but you’re too busy being a sore loser to try. it doesn’t occur to you that jon hates not seeing you achieve, even if it’s only a bet. one that’s in his favor.

the nights watch had decided to celebrate the moons turning with drinks after supper tonight. usually, the moon isn’t any topic worthy of celebration, but things have been unusually quiet in castle black lately. as far as white walkers and wildlings go, that is. why not have a little fun?

the mess hall is warm, bustling with the combined voices of black brothers. bellies are full, and the ale in everyone’s cup allows for a lighthearted atmosphere. you’ve decided to put the bet on a back burner, a simmering problem to deal with tomorrow. you’re warm & fuzzy, looser with your tongue than usual; although you can’t help wincing whenever someone drops food or creates a new stain on the tables.

you forego avoiding jon, and not just because you naturally gravitate toward him when drinking ale. he’s more than eager to keep you by his side, not fully trusting anyone in the room with you incapacitated (maybe edd on blood moons).

much to your dismay, there’s been no sign of samwell tarly. he had vacated the premises after everyone was done supping, and before the ale had been poured. everyone noticed; of course they did. sam was alike to the glue that held much together. sure, he was cowardly, and occasionally frustrating, but sam was the voice of reason. and everyone was starting to feel the weight of his absence.

bet or not, you think after tonight you might have to seriously intervene in your friends love life. you hate to see him like this, dejected and hopeless…. maybe you have a better chance of guiding gilly than sam. in the midst of your thoughts, you glance out the window noticing the sun setting. and with it, goes any hope you had at victory.

jon’s gaze follows yours, and recognizes your defeat with you. but still, ever the gentleman, he doesn’t mention it; only allowing a small upward tug to play on his lips. you return it, momentarily leaning into jon in a silent acknowledgment, before getting roped into grenns white-walker conspiracy theory.

the hours pass easily, greatly enjoying the boisterous atmosphere, the ale making you warm & floaty. you find it harder to keep your eyes off jon as the night goes on, and you almost internally chide yourself for it; until you recognize that every time you’ve stolen a glance at jon, he’s already been looking at you.

eventually, it gets late, and you want to turn in. the only reason jon’s been here so long is you anyways, so when he says his goodbyes along with you, silently following you out, you don’t pay it any mind. your tipsy brain clouds your judgement, and you wrap a hand around his bicep, the muscle underneath making you feel fuzzy.

jon only glances down to where you meet, afraid if he looks too long, you’ll get shy and pull away. and he really, really doesn’t want you to pull away.

you walk in silence until a thought occurs to you. you decide to push aside your pride and propriety, letting instead curiosity steer your tongue.

“So, Snow,” you begin, and he hums, propping you to go on. “Since you’ve won, what’ll it be?”

it seems that the ale isn’t just affecting you, because the question makes jon smile almost too easily. you want to see more of it, so you continue.

“A handshake… the clothes off my back… my soul…” you remark, and it gets you just want you wanted — jon shakes his head, smile not leaving his face.

“Not here,” he says, and he steers you both in the direction of the wall. what jon could possibly want that would need the privacy of the wall, you’re unsure (no you aren’t).

the walk there is quiet, the only sound being the wind flapping your coats. it only makes you more aware of the warmth emanating from jon, and you both pretend you don’t lean into each other. you only remove your hand from him as you approach the box, and he puts a hand on the small of your back to usher you in front of him. if jon would do so without the added ale is a thing that you question for only a moment, as the creaking of the box signals it’s begun ascent.

now you really are curious as to what jon could want. he’s an honorable man… does he need a secret kept? a new cloak? or does he just wish for a conversation in the solaced privacy of the wall?

the ride up feels shorter than usual, but you’re not sure what to blame it on. it’s a strange feeling, your nerves on fire, yet the ale douses it to a low buzz. you partially blame jon, always forgetting yourself when he’s present. how you ever hope to confront your feelings is beyond you.

when you step out, jon offers his arm this time, and you gladly accept it. perhaps you’re not the only one who finds comfort in the action.

you begin your walk, and based on the route, you think he’s taking you both to your favorite place. a quiet indent in the wall, close enough to not be a far walk, but long enough to get away from prying eyes and listening ears. it has a small wall of ice that acts as a (sort of) guard-rail, coming to the waist — but the rest is left open, the expanse of woods beyond the wall available to be gazed upon.

the quiet is comfortable, as it always is with jon. you have much on the tip of your tongue, but give him the courtesy of speaking first.

it’s not long before you’re approaching your little sanctuary; scattered black brothers are guarding the expanse of the wall behind you, and in front of you, but none linger around this area. the thought remains in the back of your mind as you make the turn, walking into the indent, the view beyond it making your breath hitch.

you remove your hand from jon’s arm, instead splaying it across the waist-high-iced-guard-rail. it’s freezing, even under your gloved hand, yet it’s a welcome respite from the way jon sets your nerves alight, turning your skin to fire. patience is hard, yet you wait for him to speak.

“What you said,” he begins. “about taking the risk,”

you turn to look at him, but this time, he doesn’t meet your eyes. his tongue darts out to wet his lip, the way it does when he’s nervous. what could jon have to be nervous about?

“It made me think…”

whatever jon was going to say, you’re not sure you’ll ever know, because rapidly approaching footsteps have the words dying on his tongue — looking behind you both. who is running down the wall at this hour? and why?

a figure appears, out of breath and panting. sam.

“I looked for you! In the— in the mess hall, but— Grenn and Edd said you weren’t there, said you’d left,” you and jon must look as confused as you are, since when did sam run?

a grin erupts on sam’s face as he gets past his introduction. “I did it! I really did it!”

“Did what?” jon prompts, but you think he already knows.

“Gilly!” sam says, and you can feel your brows instantly un-crease themselves. “Well, I— you know, I was nervous. Didn’t want to ruin what we had or, or what she thought of me but.. I just sort of— went up to her and did it! I can’t believe she said yes…” he says, wistfully looking to the sky with a smile on his face, like he can’t believe the gods allowed it to happen, either. you wore one of your own, bathing in jon’s defeat.

sam looks at you both for a minute, then at jon, and the smile he’s wearing dies down as he realizes he’s interrupted. “Oh— oh, sorry… I’ll go now, I just—“ reality seems to hit him again, as another smile erupts on his face.

“I did it!” he says, then spins on his heel, leaving you both atop the wall.

a few moments pass, before you turn to look at jon. you both have a look of disbelief, yours mixed with a smile — and strangely enough, even in defeat, so is his.

“I’m thinking your rations for a month, the cloak you’re wearing...” you say, and jon huffs out a laugh (they come easier around you)

“What Sam did, is called blindsiding—“

“Hm,” you say, interrupting the end of his sentence. “It looks like defeat, instead. What were you going to demand, again?”

you’re only teasing, but you accidentally hit a soft spot. you see the way his smile falters, seriousness beginning its return to his face. it makes your own smile disappear.

“I didn’t— I wasn’t trying to…” you say, but once you see the expression on his face, something clicks. “What were you going to ask for, Jon?”

it seems like you’ve asked him to throw himself off the wall. he shakes his head, “It doesn’t matter.”

“To me it does.”

he begins to turn away from you, but your hand flies to his arm, halting him. he sighs in frustration. you try to catch his gaze, but he makes effort not to look at you.

“I won, and that’s what I ask.” you say, “For you to tell me what you wanted.”

you can see his internal turmoil, but that only makes you want to shrink away. what plagues jon so badly he dares not to speak it aloud? not speak of it to you?

you can tell he doesn’t want to say it, but a bet is a bet.

“You.”

your brows scrunch involuntarily. “Me?”

“I wanted to kiss you.” he says, his gaze flickering momentarily to your lips. “Want.”

your lips part in shock. not that he wants to kiss you (you’ve known. you want to kiss him) but that you’ve been able to coax him to say as much.

your gaze flicks to his lips once, twice, and you step closer — body almost flush with his. at the same time you reach up, jon leans down, and you connect your lips with his. they’re soft, warm; everything you thought they’d be when your thoughts would drift to him.

the kiss is sweet, tentative. exploring unknown territory, but also wanting — needing. you feel jon’s hand come to your waist, pulling you even closer (if possible), your body now flush against his.

eventually, the need to breathe takes over, and you both (reluctantly) pull apart. his cheeks are flushed, and you have an idea that it’s not from the cold this time. his pupils are blown, want pooling in them; but, also, something else swims in the midst. confusion.

“But— I lost,” he says, looking to you for an answer. you pretend to take mild offense, a playful roll of your eyes accompanying your words.

“You know, Jon, when someone gets kissed, they usually don’t consider it a loss.”

it seems to be the right answer, a smile tugging its way back up his lips. his response is him leaning down to kiss you again.

#game of thrones #jon snow #jon snow x reader #jon snow prompt #jon snow x you #hashtag #need that #idk why this just came to me #also i think this is (accidentally but not unwelcome) gn!reader #so lmk in the comments below if there’s anything gender implying pls and thank you #gn!reader

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hellfirenacht · 3 months ago

Text

Saving Throws

Fic Summary: Hellfire is your favorite place to be, but why is it so hard to show up when the sun sets at 4 pm?

Tags: Eddie Munson x Reader, Seasonal Depression, Hurt/Comfort, suicidal ideation if you squint but Reader does NOT want to die and is not actively suicidal, drug use, smoking, no use of y/n, reader is not described, assumed fem!reader, happy ending, SFW

No Beta, we live and we laugh and we love.

Word Count: 4.8k

Master List

It wasn’t even 5 pm, and it was already dark outside. You hated it. Stuck all day in school, too cold to be outside during lunch, and by the time you made it home any daylight had already faded over the horizon. On the weekends you could at least enjoy sitting by the window, taking in as much daylight as you could, and when school let out during the week, there was at least that precious 2 hours before the darkness came.

Fridays were the hardest, even though they shouldn’t be. Fridays used to be the day you looked forward to most because that was Hellfire. It was the one day you were guaranteed to see Eddie and the rest of your friends. You hated that you were moved to a different lunch period.

It was grey and gloomy out, the leaves on the trees that had brought you joy just a few short weeks before were now empty and dead. It was cold. There was no sunlight this Friday.

You still sat outside, hoping that a shock of cold for a few minutes would snap you out of the fog that had been creeping in the back of your mind for the last few weeks. You knew it was coming, inevitable, but it never got easier. You wished there was something more you could do to slow it.

October was a pleasant distraction, and usually you could combat the worst of it until January. Holidays and Hellfire were the best things to hold onto until March.

Today wasn’t one of those days. You didn’t want to go to Hellfire, you didn’t think you’d be able to add any modifiers to your ability score. You didn’t think you could find your character voice or pick a fight with Gareth or team up with Jeff.

In your state, you felt like you might just let the party down. Let Eddie down.

That was the worst part. You could handle the rest of your friends being disappointed in you, but Eddie was different. If you missed Hellfire, there wasn’t any guarantee that you’d come back and have your character still be alive. Most days you loved that he was a bit ruthless and sadistic as a DM. Most days, you cackled as he threatened to off someone’s character for being late or dipping out early or missing Hellfire completely. Most days you loved him- his DM style, that is.

Most days.

Today wasn’t most days.

It was now two minutes to 3:00 pm. If you hurried now, you could make it without a lecture. If you were five minutes late, you could blame it on going to the bathroom and Eddie would give you a look but wouldn’t hound you too bad. Later than that...

You had never been later than that. You had only ever been late once, and Eddie had forgiven you by giving you disadvantage on a roll that caused your character damage but ultimately didn’t kill them.

It took you five minutes to force your body to move back inside, your whole body covered in goosebumps from the cold. You pulled your jacket back on as you trudged towards the storage room where Hellfire met every week. You walked down the stairs where Eddie was just now starting in on his opening monologue. Ever the professional, he shot you a look, but didn’t stop.

You hated that look, you hated the idea of letting Eddie down, ever.

The game passed by in a haze. Even Eddie’s antics and loud voice couldn’t fully keep your attention today. You felt like you spent most of the time telling yourself to focus rather than actually focusing. It was fine, Doug and Mike took charge of the dungeon and you were happy to let them have the spotlight. You hoped you looked more like you were focusing hard on the battles and strategies over spacing out.

The relief of the meeting being over was washed away by the dark parking lot, the sun long gone despite the early hours. Everyone else was chatting excitedly about the dungeon and you trailed behind, readying yourself to say goodbye before heading to your car.

Everyone was loitering around Eddie’s van while he pretended to be annoyed as he smoked a cigarette. You liked these moments, where everyone was together and you didn’t feel as though the pressure was weighing down on you. Outside of Hellfire, even if it was dark outside you were starting to feel a little lighter, the fog in your mind clearing just slightly.

You took a hit off of Eddie’s cigarette. You didn’t normally smoke but the burn in your lungs at least helped you focus. You didn’t even mind it when you were teased for coughing so much.

One by one everyone else was picked up or drifted to their own cars, leaving you and Eddie. You were about to say goodbye, when he spoke up.

“So, where were you?” Eddie asked, dropping the cigarette and crushing it out with his boot. In the silence of the night, you could hear the slight hiss of the embers dying under his old Reeboks.

“Huh?” you asked, head snapping up to meet his eyes. Eddie crossed his arms and leaned against the van.

“You were late today, and I was benevolent enough to let it slide.” he said. “So, where were you?”

You wanted to tell him that you were only a little late, but you didn’t have the energy to challenge him. Normally you enjoyed the occasional argument or play fight with Eddie but today you didn’t have the energy. That spark was as cold as the smushed cigarette.

“I was in the bathroom. Made the mistake of eating the surprise casserole during lunch.” you shrugged. You didn’t want to lie to him. You hated lying to him. But there was no good way to explain that the reason you were late was because you had to convince yourself to go. There was no way Eddie could understand, and you didn’t have the words to make him understand.

How the hell could you explain that the place you wanted to be most was also the place that something deep inside you couldn’t bare to face. You hadn’t done anything wrong. Your friends hadn’t done anything wrong. Eddie hadn’t done anything wrong. So why did everything have to feel so wrong?

Eddie seemed to accept your excuse for now. He clapped you on the back, which cleared the haze in your mind for just long enough to make your heart beat faster and for a moment you could think again.

“Don’t be late again.” he said sternly, an evil glint in his eyes that usually made you melt. “Or else.”

“I won’t.” you said, wishing you knew if you were lying or not.

You kept your promise through November. Sacrificing those few moments of Friday sunlight to go directly to the club room after the bell rang. You were still dragging your feet, convincing yourself that you wanted to be with your friends as your shoes squeaked on the linoleum tile.

That was the worst part, being at Hellfire did make you feel better once you were there. But getting there was harder than actually coming to school. You still weren’t fully alert during club, but at least you were there. As long as you were there then you wouldn’t be in trouble and your friends would still like you and Eddie would still want you around-

Why was he giving you that look? Eddie walked into the club and had a disapproving look on his face. Anxiety flooded your system, washing away the haze as alarm bells rang in your head. You were here, right? It was Hellfire and you were on time, early even! You were here before Eddie. You had your character sheet, you had your figurine, you weren’t sitting in his chair-

“Where’s your shirt?” Eddie asked, and you felt your face flush of all blood. Your shirt...?

To your horror, you looked down at your shirt. It was an old faded t-shirt with the logo long since gone. It was soft, and usually worn for bed-

You hadn’t fully gotten dressed this morning. You slept in this shirt and had just thrown on a hoodie over it, not even thinking about the fact that Hellfire was today. You were out of uniform.

Fuck.

When you forgot your homework during class, you didn’t care if teachers gave you that disapproving look. You could block out your peers jeering at you for what you wore, they didn’t matter.

None of them mattered, but Eddie did.

“....Fuck.” you said, mostly to yourself, staring at the offending and comfortable material.

You expected him to lecture you, like everyone else. You braced yourself for him to tell you to leave and come back when you knew how to dress yourself again. A small part of your brain almost hoped that he would.

Instead he just gave you that manic, evil grin that you usually loved. You knew what was going to happen for the rest of the day.

“I hope you’re feeling lucky today, because I’m not going easy on you.” Eddie said. “In fact, I think today I might play favorites.”

Being Eddie’s favorite in Hellfire could be a death sentence if you weren’t careful. Being his favorite meant that he was going to pay special attention to you. Eddie didn’t often play favorites, but the last time he did it ended in Doug starting a new character sheet while rolling his saving throws. He was saved by a lucky 13 roll.

“Fuuuuuuuuck.” you said, louder to show your disdain for this turn of events. Eddie only winked at you and started setting up the table and his area.

One by one, everyone showed up while you looked over your character sheet as if you were cramming for a test. Normally you loved any attention that Eddie gave you, but right now it felt like too much as you scrambled to try and remember what the hell was even going on in the campaign.

You pretended to have fun, swallowing down any panic you were feeling during the game. Even though all you wanted to do was go home and sleep and cry and disappear until Spring. How were you supposed to finish the campaign like this?

Eddie was picking on you the whole game, and you wanted to be mad at him. You wanted to tell him to fuck off and leave you alone and wasn’t it good enough that you were even there? But you couldn’t, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it because he wasn’t actually mad at you. You could see it in his eyes that there was nothing malicious behind that grin. This was a punishment, yes, but he wasn’t doing this to hurt you.

A few weeks ago you would have loved this, loved being picked on by him and having his attention and investment in your character. You would have been locked in, challenging him and pushing him as much as he was pushing you, cracking jokes and batting your eyelashes at him for fun.

You miss who you were a few weeks ago.

You had been fighting on equal footing, but now you felt backed into a corner. With a final push, and with an assist from Jeff, you managed to get your final attack in before the battle ended. You would be worse for wear next session, but alive.

By the time you all walked out of the school that evening, you felt extra drained. You had fun, you think. You should have had fun. Hellfire was always fun.

Something heavy fell on your shoulders and you made a noise and swatted in front of your face as Eddie snapped his fingers and smacked your face around a little. You felt the snout of that damned pig ring poke into your cheek.

“Hello? Anyone in there?” He asked, his arm swung around your shoulders as if it were the most casual thing in the world. The weight of his arm dragged you out of the clouds and back down to earth.

“No one’s home.” you deadpanned, but you couldn’t stop the corners of your mouth from pulling up slightly. This was Eddie now, not the Freak, not the Dungeon Master, not the guitar lead of Corroded Coffin. No pressure.

“Should I tape a note to your face if I want to leave a message?” he asked.

“No, I’ve seen your sticky notes, they don’t stick.”

“That’s what happens when you drop them in slush.” Eddie shrugged. “Now, what the hell is wrong with you?”

That was a loaded question. “Alphabetically or chronologically? Actually scratch that, we don’t have time to get into that.” You laughed, hoping he’d drop it.

You felt Eddie’s hand move around your back from one shoulder to the other. He moved in front of you to make you face him completely. His free hand rested on your other shoulder, his head tilted down slightly. His head always tilted down like that when he was being serious. Shit, he wasn’t going to drop it.

“Is something going on?” he asked. “You were at the table but...” Eddie seemed to struggle with how to phrase it. “You’re phoning it in.” he finally settled on.

You hated disappointing Eddie. He was one of your best friends, and you admired him so much. How were you supposed to answer him without feeling like a massive failure?

Eddie had seen right through you, had noticed that your head and heart wasn’t in the game. Despite his looks, Eddie was always so intuitive about how people were feeling. He noticed when things were off.

This isn’t how you wanted him to notice you. It was ironic really, ever since you joined Hellfire all you wanted was Eddie’s attention, to catch his eye. Now that you had it, you wish he’d look anywhere else. This wasn’t the you that you wanted him to see.

“Finals.” you said, giving the canned answer that you had given to the guidance counselor early in the week. “Classes are kicking my ass and I’ve just been a bit off.” The counselor had bought it, and if Eddie didn’t you could blame stomach issues or-

“You sure?” Eddie asked, frowning. He was still holding your shoulders. “It’s just- it’s been weeks, man. You’re barely there.”

“There’s nothing wrong.” you tried to assure him. It was true, and that was the worst part. There was no reason why you should feel this way. Things weren’t bad at home, things were fine at school. The worst thing that’s happened in the past few weeks was today's encounter with an owlbear. “I’m just really tired lately. Stress. Can’t sleep.”

Eddie looked at you hard for a few seconds before nodding, finding the answer satisfactory. He let go of your shoulders and you immediately missed the pressure. He opened the back of his van and dug through a small mountain of clutter and pulled out his lunchbox.

“No, Eddie, it’s fine. I don’t have any money right now.” you said as he pulled out a small baggie. He tossed it to you anyway.

“Pay me back later.” he said. “Ten.”

It was a discount, he must be actually worried about you. The fog in your mind told you to take the weed and go home. To smoke and sleep and lay around for the next few days and wallow in whatever feeling this was.

It took you longer than it should to force your lips to say “I suck at rolling.”

And that’s how the two of you ended up at the far end of Forrest Hills trailer park, away from a majority of the trailers and RVs as Eddie carefully rolled the joint. This wasn’t something that happened often, the two of you hanging out alone. The last time it happened was the start of the school year when Eddie had given you a ride home when your car had a flat. The two of you ended up spending an hour in your driveway just talking. That had cemented the crush you had been suppressing for the past eternity. You had thought that maybe he had felt that same spark you did that night, but the two of you hadn’t been alone like that since.

Eddie took the first hit and handed the joint over to you. You held it for a moment, unsure if weed was a good idea with your already cloudy mind but you took a deep hit anyway.

“Woah, easy.” Eddie said, taking the joint back as you coughed from the smoke. He smacked you on the back a few times before offering you a swig from a water bottle. You chugged the rest of it before your coughs subsided. “It’s just me. You don’t need to smoke like you have something to prove.”

You winced at the call out. You absolutely did take that hit to try and impress Eddie and he saw right through you. Of course he did.

“Sorry.” you coraked out.

Eddie just shrugged and took another hit, leaning back against the driver side seat. The mixtape he put in was louder than you would have liked, but it kept you alert. You felt at ease for the first time in a while, excited even, and that made you feel guilty. You didn’t want your brain to be dependent solely on Eddie to function. That wasn’t fair to him.

You considered asking him to take you home when he started talking again. He turned up the music just slightly, his voice a little louder as he launched into a ramble about the guitar solo.

“Are metal songs usually this long?” you asked, leaning against the passenger side door to face him more.

“If they’re any good, yes.” Eddie laughed, shredding on his precious imaginary air guitar.

“It’s nice of Metallica to slow down in the middle of a song. Gives the pit a break, you know? Like, ‘Hey good work everyone! Grab some water and meet back in the pit in three minutes for the big finale!’” You laughed, taking a smaller hit from the joint.

“If you leave the pit, it doesn’t count. I don’t care how much they slow down.” Eddie said firmly.

“You have too many rules.” you shook your head. “Not everyone has the never ending stamina that you have.”

“That’s why we need to work on yours.” Eddie stretched out dramatically and dropped his feet in your lap, the heels of his Reeboks digging not unpleasantly into your thighs. “You’re damn near falling asleep on me at Hellfire, how am I gonna get you in the pit at our first big gig?”

Your stomach turned with guilt but you pushed through it. “Just toss me in from the stage and if I thrash enough I’m sure it’ll count.”

“Come on, you know it won’t count unless you start the pit willingly. If I can’t make you feel like you want to fight with our songs then I’ve failed.” Eddie pouted.

“You make me want to fight without your singing.” you teased, untying his shoe laces.

“Then why didn’t you?”

You froze, holding the broken aglet between your fingers. “Dunno what you mean.” you lied.

“These past few weeks you’ve been hanging back during battles and have barely talked during the campaign.” Eddie said. “Do you...”

“Do I what?” You asked, rolling the aglet.

“Do you enjoy Hellfire anymore?” he asked, his voice quiet and unsure. You felt your heart break at the question, you hated that your damn brain made him feel like this. You were fine suffering in silence, but the last thing you wanted was to drag Eddie down with you.

“No- I mean- yes.” you stuttered out. “I do like Hellfire. I promise.” It sounded childish, and you couldn’t force your voice to sound as sincere as you wanted it. Eddie would see through the bullshit in a heartbeat. “I.. I don’t know what’s wrong.” You conceded finally.

Eddie nudged you with his foot. “Talk to me. Normally you won’t stop talking during the campaign. Don’t clam up on me now.”

“It just... I get like this every year around this time. The sun disappears right after class and suddenly I feel like a damn zombie. I can’t think, or do anything. I feel like I’m fighting fog. You can’t punch fog.”

Eddie crossed his arms and nodded sagely. “That’s how fog works.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.” you couldn’t help but laugh a little. “You’re oh so helpful.”

“Normally the way to get rid of fog is an assload of light. That’s your problem, huh? No light means more fog.”

“That seems to be the case.” you agreed and turned down another hit of weed. It wasn’t helping right now anyway.

“Should I shine one of the spotlights on you next time?” He suggested.

“You already did that this afternoon.” you deadpanned.

“Nah, I just made you participate. I’ll rig one of the drama spotlights to shine directly on you-”

“Giving me disadvantage on every roll because I’ll be blind.” you countered.

“You will be, but I might have mercy on your character. No, but I was thinking more of a Care Bear stare. Blast you with light to make you give a shit again.” He crushed out the joint.

“A Care Bear stare? Who even are you right now?” you stretched your own legs out to rest on his lap, your legs tangled together now. “You can’t even name three Care Bears!”

“I can so! There’s Grumpy Bear and uh... Happy Bear and Brave Heart.” Eddie said smugly.

“Wh- That last one isn’t even a bear, it’s a lion!”

Eddie threw his arms up dramatically. “Does it matter?”

“Yes! You’re a fake Care Bears fan. How are you supposed to blast me with a Care Bear stare if you can’t even name the characters? I’m embarrassed to even be here right now, Eddie.” you sighed, disappointed in him. “Poser.”

“Poser?!” Eddie looked offended. “I can handle being called a freak, or a satanist, but poser? That’s a low blow. I’m wounded.”

“Crit hit on psychic damage.” You cackled.

“You sound better.” Eddie said as your laughter subsided.

“I.. feel better. Thank you.” despite the weed and the only light in the van coming from the overhead light, you did feel better. There was still a bit of fog, but the exhaustion wasn’t as bad as it had been over the last few days.

“Are you gonna be okay for the rest of the campaign?” Eddie asked. “I’d hate to lose a party member to a monster we couldn’t see”

“You aren’t gonna lose me.” you promised. “I’ll be there and I’ll try and be perkier.”

“I don’t care about perky, I just want you to have fun.” Eddie said firmly. “If you aren’t having fun then that means I’m not doing a good job as a dungeon master. Come one, tell me what I gotta do to make it fun for you again.”

“Kill off Blorbo.” you said.

“Anything but that, he’s an essential NPC.” Eddie smirked.

“He’s really not.”

“Blorbo bring joy and wonder everywhere he goes-”

“Can he go to Hell? I think they need more joy and wonder there.” That damned goblin had started as a joke and quickly turned into the most obnoxious character that would show up to cause problems when things were going too well.

“I’ll tone him down.” Eddie promised. “The voice is straining anyway.”

You took a deep breath and fiddled with his aglet again. “I just.. Don’t want to let you down when I can’t give my all.” You admitted, laying out your vulnerability. “I don’t care if anyone else is disappointed in me, but you and the rest of the party are different. I want to be there for you all. I want to fight the fog and show up and be a part of this adventure. I... I don’t want you to- if you give me the same look that the rest of the school gives us then that’s it. I won’t be able to face you, Eddie.”

Eddie was silent for a while as you stared at his shoes. “Look, I know I can be harsh when it comes to Hellfire.” he admitted. “I can be an asshole because it means so much to me. I know that. If my threats are making it harder for you to show up then I’m sorry. I don’t want to be so much of a dick that you run away because I’m threatening to kill off characters because of my precious dungeon master ego.”

You felt your chest tighten and you swallowed a lump in your throat.

“I want you at Hellfire.” Eddie continued. “I love playing with you. When you and Jeff team up, I know I’m in trouble. The two of you come up with plans that, frankly, no sane dungeon master would let you roll for. But I do, because you make it fun.”

“And because you’re insane.” you laugh as you blink back a tear.

Eddie grabbed your ankle and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll be nice to you at Hellfire. I’ll be patient. I just want you to show up and enjoy the game. Just don’t tell the others I’m giving you special treatment.”

“Not being a dick is giving me special treatment?” You gave him a small smile, a real one. “I’m honored.”

“Yeah, well, if word gets out they'll start demanding that I be nice to them too, and I can’t have that. Not during the game anyway.”

You felt lighter than you had in weeks. You really did feel better. It wasn’t going to be a permanent feeling, you knew that there were going to be more foggy days. Feelings like this don’t really go away until Spring, but you would prevail. You wouldn’t let Eddie down, or the rest of your party. You wouldn’t let yourself down and fall victim to an endly haze.

“Can... we hang out like this more?” you asked. “Outside of school, I mean.”

Because this is what you needed. It wasn’t gonna be easy, but having this time with a friend is what would get you to the end of winter. Eddie, Jeff, Doug, even Gareth and the freshmen. You had put so much pressure on Hellfire that you had forgotten that your party members were also your friends and allies.

This didn’t have to be a solo quest.

“Yes!” Eddie said, so quickly and forcefully it actually made you jump. “Yeah, absolutely, You should really come to the Hideout more and watch us play and after we could go get uh... questionable snacks from the gas station. Or I could sneak behind the bar and get us some beers.”

With how enthusiastic he was, you wondered if he had also felt that spark that night at the beginning of the school year.

It was almost 2 am when Eddie dropped you off at your place, stepping out of the car to give you a real goodbye. The rest of the night had been a whirlwind of a million topics at once, music, life, plans to hang out in the future. You felt happy. Really, genuinely happy.

You hugged Eddie, which he seemed surprised at but he hugged you back tightly. You were squished against him, enjoying the texture of his leather jacket under your fingers. It was cold out, and you could see your breath now, but you felt a warmth in you.

You didn’t need Eddie to be the light that kept you going, but he could help your own light stay lit. Him and the rest of your friends. Though you knew that a part of you would always burn more brightly for him, specifically.

Eddie pulled back and dramatically bowed to you, taking your hand and kissing the back of it. It was so over the top and so Eddie.

“Come by Gareth’s place on Sunday. We’re having rehearsals while the neighborhood is at church.” He instructed.

“I thought Corroded Coffin had closed rehearsals?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. They were always serious about their band, they didn’t let people come and distract them.

“Think of it as a special open casket.” Eddie said. “You don’t have to talk, we can focus on our music, and you get to spend time with us during the day.”

It was the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever offered you. You nodded, knowing that it might be hard to get your ass out of bed but you would. For him.

And for you.

With a final hug, Eddie saw you inside before peeling out of your driveway. You made your way to your room and looked at the photo on your nightstand of you with the Hellfire club. What you were feeling might be a solo quest, but you weren’t alone.

For the first time in weeks, you were able to fall asleep without the weight of the fog.

A/N: This fic was originally hurt/no comfort out of my own seasonal depression and insecurities. But what stopped it from being that was that none of you deserve to feel abandoned or like you're fighting alone. None of of who love Eddie so much deserve to be kicked out of Hellfire without a fighting chance.

Get yourself some vitamin D gummies and a SAD lamp. We're gonna get through this, guys.

Also I really need a regular Tag List so comment if you wanna be added.

#nacht fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n

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animeyanderelover · 1 year ago

Note

Hiii, I don't see much of Jujutsu Kaisen so that's what I'll be requesting:

1. Happy deathday (Gojo, sukuna, nanami, Mahito, the 1st years)

2. Their reaction to s/o being able to nullify their ability (Gojo, sukuna, Mahito)

You can add other characters you'd like and think might be interesting.

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, manipulation, gaslighting, clinginess, paranoia, controlling behavior, sadism, isolation

S/o can nullify their abilities

Ryomen Sukuna

🗾I can see his s/o very well being assigned to Yuji as soon as the boy has swallowed Sukuna’s finger. The King of Curses himself doesn’t do much besides cackling over you as he sees you as nothing more but a mere babysitter. It has definitely happened that his mouth has popped up on Itadori’s face, tauntingly questioning you about what you hope to do once he actually gains control. You never appear shaken though, always fairly calm and composed as you reply to him before Yuji slaps the mouth shut and apologizes to you. Sukuna is always watching and he definitely observes your confident exterior which does elicit his curiosity. What exactly can you do? What are your abilities? He wants to test you, to see if you are only bark and no bite or if you can stand for your words. Yuji’s naïve wish to protect people is exploited for Sukuna’s own use and soon he snatches the chance to gain control of Yuji whilst he is in your presence. He is fully prepared to kill you if you don’t prove yourself.

🗾Only that the situation never escalates to a battle as all you do is touch him and seal his powers away, forcing him back inside Yuji’s mind. You don’t want to risk any unnecessary destruction. So you just brush him off as nothing? Who do you think you are? It’s a rare humiliation Sukuna has to suffer on that day as you aren’t even willing to fight him and label it as unneeded. He’s seething, his words from that day on filled with a lot more spite but you always reply with an equal amount of sass and snarl. He really has to work on that mouth on yours. As infuriated as he is though, he can’t deny that there isn’t a spark of attraction within this all though. He definitely has to put you in your place but your unique ability to cancel someone else’s technique is, even if quite plain-looking, definitely the ultimate counter against anyone. You’d definitely be useful in his later schemes to help him to regain all of his fingers and to get his original body back.

🗾The verbal banter between the two of you keeps going on as both of you essentially see who can deliver the heavier blow with their insults. A part of Sukuna is definitely yearning for a chance to get another chance to fight you physically but for now he has to be satisfied with this. He can’t deny it though, he is enjoying this by now quite a lot. He’ll tolerate this bratty and rebellious behavior of yours for as long as he is stuck inside the boy’s mind. As soon as Uraume has revealed themself, Sukuna is ordering his servant to keep a special eye on you for as long as he still hasn’t regained a body over which he has full control. You absolutely can’t die now that he has gotten so incredibly interested in you. As much as he would love to search for you right now and get his rematch, he feels his control slowly fading away. There is a sadistic grin on his face though as he takes one final glance at the havoc he has caused in Shibuya. He can’t wait to see your reaction of despair, knowing that it was your job to prevent something like this from happening.

Gojo Satoru

🩵He has always had a particular interest in you. Although you are a low-ranked sorcerer, there has always been something that has made Gojo’s day that much more delightful. Is it your frustrated facade whenever he is teasing the living daylight out of you? Is it the way you pout whenever you feel a bit neglected? Whatever it is, Gojo is absolutely obsessed about it and just can’t stop himself from always following you around. He is the worst attention-seeker possible and he either annoys you to have you focus on him or he is being more considerate and buys you expensive presents to gain your attention and maybe even some praise and a kiss out of gratitude. Honestly, he wouldn’t have minded if it would have stayed that way. But then you just had to develop this Domain Expansion of yours, didn’t you? An ability that completely eradicates all Cursed Energy within except your own, that drains the energy of all foreign living beings within and only strengthens you in return. Suddenly your popularity breaks through the roof.

🩵Suddenly Gojo’s perception of you changes as well. It is a development he doesn’t want to accept. You were supposed to only be this adorable sorcerer he knew about and paid attention to. You weren’t supposed to be the center of attention, be it good or bad. You weren’t supposed to be like him. He knows that the stronger and unique one’s powers are, the more likely they are to be targeted by those who fear such strength. Even if he has no proof for it, Gojo’s paranoia suddenly appears. What if you are really targeted by someone? What if you are killed by someone? The change in atmosphere when he is around you is palpable as he is a lot more rigid and his blue eyes are always darting around as if he fears that someone or something will come for your life at any moment. For a little while this is all he mainly thinks about as he tries to butter up to you by telling you about the experiences he has had as a child to justify his overly clingy behavior. It isn’t long until he has another realization though. Your abilities would even render his powers useless.

🩵Gojo’s identity has always tied into being the strongest, about being the one who no one can beat. Now you exist though. Now you are there and can eradicate his abilities. What does that make him then? Is he even himself if he isn’t the strongest? A part of Satoru is tempted to ask you to show him your Domain Expansion in the little hope that your powers won’t work on him. The other part of him is too frightened to do so as he doesn’t want his belief up until now to be destroyed. Who is he if he isn’t the one everyone has always thought him to be? The man is terrified, terrified as he realizes that the one person who could most likely kill him is you. That isn’t who you were supposed to be. You were supposed to be only his. Desperation and bitterness collide with each other as Gojo wishes that you would have just stayed that overlooked and weak sorcerer you used to be. You don’t need any Domain Expansion. You don’t even need to be a sorcerer. You only need him. Satoru will help you to realize this.

Mahito

🔷Mahito has always been carefree and goofy even whilst committing atrocities by toying around with humans. He has always gotten a good laugh out of Yuji’s moral lessons, about the boy’s anger whenever he transfigured and killed humans. It has always been fun and that is largely because so far Mahito has never been seriously beaten. Until he crosses paths with you. A freelancer of a sorcerer who isn’t really working for the Jujutsu society. It isn’t his first time that he has fought against a sorcerer and in hindsight his mistake was taunting you even whilst you weren’t willing to fight him. Of course he will never blame it on himself that he pushed you over your limit until you ran out of patience. Soon he is crying and screaming as he tries to scramble away from you yet without any success as he is in your Domain Expansion. Quivering pupils look at you as you calmly walk over, your fists stained in his blood as you look at him with chilling disregard. He isn’t even worth killing.

🔷Mahito is unable to live with the humiliation you give him on that day. Never before has he been on the weak side before, never before has he been on the side that suffers. That’s why he is unable to process it all. He’s deeply scarred after that encounter with you. Partially he is utterly and partially he yearns for revenge, traumatized as he can’t and won’t accept how you treated him on that day as if he was the disposable toy. Mahito initially becomes more obsessed with the thought of forcing you to cower on all four in front of him. He needs to correct his view on the world that has been shattered ever since you cursed his life. His body is still far too terrified to get close to you so the curse starts stalking you from a safe distance and he hates how his body always freezes in fear and panic if your head turns around, petrified that you might have sensed him. He hates what he has become of you, petty hatred all directed against you for this humiliation he had to endure because of you. Mahito wants to see you suffer even more than he did.

🔷Hatred soon gradually weakens with time though as Mahito starts getting interested in you. Initial plans to kill closed ones of you fail as he soon comes to realize that you are a true lone wolf. Your life is lonely and isolated from others as you like to keep to yourself. Why is that? Is there a deeper lying fear? Or does nobody like you? It is almost as if Mahito is actively trying to find something to pity you for all to boost his own sense of superiority and confidence. You really don’t seem to have anybody in your life and suddenly he is very adamant to keep it that way. Someone like you doesn’t deserve anyone and he even takes it a step further by interfering to the point where other sorcerers start distrusting you. He wants to see you lonely. He wants to find a way to break you because only then can he feel whole again. Don’t worry though. He’ll gladly keep you as soon as he has found out how to completely take away your abilities. He’s sure that you’ll be at your cutest when you’re at your weakest and most vulnerable point.

#yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere sukuna #yandere ryomen sukuna #yandere gojo #yandere gojo satoru #yandere mahito

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ponderingmoonlight · 1 year ago

Text

(y/n) sparing Kokushibo's life for him to save her

Pairing: Kokushibo x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,9k

Synopsis: You find yourself standing in front of none other than the upper moon one. And while you know your chances are low and that your life might end in the dusk of day, you are able to cage Kokushibo into the upgoing sun. Until his eyes are filled with sorrow, until you make a decicion that might cost your life...

Warnings: this is my first ever Kokushibo fic so please let me know what you think! Like for Yorichii, I inserted a few pics into the fanfic itself so be prepared, angst to fluff, not proofread yet, NO MANGA SPOILERS 🤍

Special thanks to my dear @lavenderdrxp for the request!

The cold air of the night lashes against your sensitive skin without mercy, only warmed by your blood that runs down your frame like rivers. You are so tired. Tired of fighting, tired of your life. Why did you decide on becoming a demon slayer, developing into a quite skilled hashira? Right, because one of them murdered your whole village without blinking, because you wanted to protect humans from their cruel hands.

Your fingers start to tremble uncontrollably while you hold onto your sword for dear life, the handle smeared in crimson. The second you laid your eyes on him, felt his presence, you saw death itself. You’ve never encountered one of the upper moons carefully chosen by Muzan Kibutsuji himself. Until today, you were so keen to win this endless fight, thought you’d stand a chance against the demon king.

“Give up your dreams and die.”

But the man in front of you is the upper moon one. The man in front of you was able to almost kill you with just one skilled slash of his sword. Is this how you’ll die? In a 10-minute fight with a demon? Of course, you always knew your life would end like this. After all, this is the fate of a demon slayer, this is what you chose.

But…you don’t want to die. You want to live a long and healthy life, want to eat mochis until sunset and play cards with your friends.

“I will never give up”, you press out, dashing forward over and over again.

Your body begs you to stop and rest, to let your blade fall and never return to this life. But instead, you stare into his cold eyes, those beautiful colourful orbs that would fascinate you in another situation. How did a man like him end up being such a powerful demon?

“Foolish human. Do you really think you are able to defeat me?”

Your eyes dart up to the sky above. That cursed night that makes it possible for these creatures to walk on earth freely. But that faint shimmer of orange tells you that day will soon arrive, that maybe…

It might be stupid to even consider a win, that you’ll make it out of here alive. But if you are able to entertain him for a couple more minutes and trap him until sunrise, you’d be able to not only escape, but kill him.

Your mind starts to race, eyes scanning his body up and down. He’s quite tall and muscular, it won’t be easy to defeat him without any weapons. No, not even your katana will be enough. But maybe the poison you created with Shinobu-san will be.

“Use this against a demon whenever you feel like you can’t defeat him otherwise. This will make any demon unable to move for at least a few minutes.”

Every demon, she said. Every demon definitely includes the man standing in front of you. But will this be enough, are you actually skilled enough to even hit him? You need to inject the poison into his body, meaning a slice with your poisoned blade would be more than enough.

But that means you have to land a hit.

“You’re a fool if you really think I’ll give up so easily.”

Kokushibo needs to move, needs to end this fight before the sun starts to rise. You’re a hashira, his worst enemy. But instead, he can’t help but stare at you through the darkness of the night. You seem so unbothered by his presence, so confident in your abilities that it simply sweeps him off his feet.

Are you actually dumb enough to underestimate him? No, the fact that you keep your save distance to his sword tells him more than urgently that you know very well who is standing in front of you. No, your firm believe in yourself is enough to make you stand your ground.

And again, you dash towards him, holding onto your sword so tightly that your knuckles stand out white. He dodges your attack with ease, slicing through your tender flesh too light to hurt you critically. Oh, he knows all too well that he’s holding back, that you should be dead already. Why is he not able to end this fight, to finally get rid of you? Your eyes seem to gleam in the darkness, light up the word around him. When was the last time he saw the sun? He can’t remember. But your eyes have to be close.

A sudden pain crawling up his back rips him out of his pondering. What was that? Did you manage to hit him, is the sun starting to rise? Slowly he turns around, eyes finding your cramped-up figure on the floor. His flesh starts to heal in an instant, the only hint for your attack being a minor cut in his cloak. Yes, you indeed managed to hit him.

“I thought you are a hashira. Aren’t you aware that as a demon, I’m healing in an instant?”

Your heavy breaths hang in the air between both of you, your blood discolouring the forest ground crimson while your hands dig into the mud. This was all you’ve had left. It has to be enough, the poison has to function. Otherwise…

Your tired eyes dart towards him and the way he slowly approaches you. Will this be your end? Like in slow motion he raises his sword over your head, ready to behead you. At least you did what you could, faced him with everything you’ve head. Becoming a demon slayer meant being ready to give your life sooner or later. You allow your lids to rest, awaiting the bow of his sharp blade in silence. At least your end will be graceful, right?

But instead of his sharp blade, you are greeted by his tall figure crashing into you onto the ground. Is this real? Did the poison work? You force your eyes open, heart almost beating out of your chest when you begin to realize.

You made it. Despite the stinging fact that this man is the upper moon one, you somehow managed to stand up against him and steal his ability to move.

“You…poisoned…me”, he presses out.

What a fool he was for sparing your life when he had the chance to kill you so easily. Now the sun slowly but surely starts to rise, makes his skin burn uncomfortably while his venomous eyes stare right through your soul. You really are a brave one, bright orbs set on him while you free yourself from the pressure of his body above you.

“I did what I have to do. You are my enemy.”

Yes, you have to remind yourself over and over again. It doesn’t matter that his facial features suddenly begin to soften, you really don’t care about the way he stares into the rising sun. No, it doesn’t bother you that he looks almost…hurt.

“I haven’t seen a sunrise for a long time”, he mumbles.

“I love to see the sun rise. There is no better feeling than the first warm rays of the day against bare skin and that striking colours painted in the sky.”

“You look exactly like a woman who adores sunrises”, he comments so tenderly that you rip your gaze away from the orange sky for a second.

“And you look like a man who did as well”, you reply without thinking twice.

In the dim light he looks breathtakingly gorgeous. Yes, there is no doubt that this demon once was a handsome man with the kindest eyes. You hold your breath, the mark engraved into his eye reminding you more than urgently that this man is indeed a powerful demon. You should leave him to the sheer force of the sun, let him burn for all the sins he committed. But instead, a deep grief holds onto your heart tightly.

“I did indeed.”

Is that a tear escaping his eye? No, impossible. No demon you ever encountered cried, regretted his actions. Does he feel the presence of death haunting after him, the way his skin starts to burn under the first rays of sunshine? His forehead starts to redden before catching fire, making a deep whimper escape his lips.

“Do you want to live on?”

What a stupid question to ask, how reckless to even talk to him. Why does your hand cup his cheek all of the sudden, why do you feel sorry for one of the strongest demons in existence?

“Maybe dying in the upgoing sun is more than I am able to ask for”, he speaks out slowly and reserved.

Your mind starts to raise, comes up with a plan more poisonous than anything Shinobu has ever created. This is ridiculous to even think about, you are a demon slayer, a hashira to be exact. The thought alone is ridiculous.

But not ridiculous enough to stop yourself from grabbing him under his armpits and start hovering him into the safety of the thick woods, away from the dangerous rays of sunshine. You feel like fainting, your very own blood following you behind like a trail while you huff in exhaustion. But still, you keep on moving, shield his body from the sun with your blood-soaked coat while all he does is staring at the angelic sky.

This will be the death of you, as soon as he regains the power over his body, he’ll slice you into pieces. Why? Why are you not strong enough to outstand your pity, why weren’t you able to leave him to his fate? Instead, you find yourself hauling him up a pair of stairs leading into an abandoned cottage you’ve known for years. This is your safe place, your retreat from this cruel world.

And this will be the place you lose your life in.

You fall onto the cold wooden floor the second the door behind both of you is closed, your mouth tasting like iron while coughing up blood. You must be severely injured, given the fact how numb your body starts to feel and how your heart seems to beat slower with every passing minute.

Your eyes catch his shadow next to you, how it builds up into its old frightening gloom. The poison must have worn off, gave him back the ability to move freely. You swallow hard, glossy eyes widened in thick horror.

This will be your end.

“Why did you save me?”

His dark voice sends shivers down your spine, the sheer presence of his powers alone while laying on the floor helplessly almost making you lose your composure.

“I don’t know”, you mumble in response, voice nothing more than a fade away whisper.

His heavy yet light footsteps make the floor vibrate underneath his weight when he crosses the room and comes to a stand in front of you. All you can do is stare at his feet next to your head, waiting for your certain death.

“I’m the upper moon one”, he reminds you.

“And I’m…a hashira…”

You feel the wood next to you give in under his weight as he kneels down next to you, six eyes staring at you intensely. Why…why is he still hesitating? It wouldn’t be hard to kill you in the state you are in, even though the sun now almost fully rose. What a victory, killing another hashira off with ease, coming closer to being the strongest.

Kokushibo can’t help but admire you for the way you still carry yourself with so much pride. Despite the fact that you’ll die within an hour if not treated, despite his sheer presence by your side, your eyes still hold contact with his unwavering. Like in trance he leans forward, lets go of the handle of his sword for the first time since forever. As gentle as his hands remember to move, he places them onto your stomach, watches as your eyes fill with dread. Is he even able to use his powers after all this time ignoring them? He has to try.

The room lights up in red as your body seems to burn alive, a silent scream escaping your lips before you are able to stop it. Out of instinct, you grab on of his hands, hold onto it tightly while waiting for the sharp pain haunting down your body.

But nothing happens. No, it almost feels as if…your pain slowly fades away.

“You…You healed me”, you breathe out in utter disbelief, chest rising and falling so sharply that oxygen refuses to fill your lungs.

Your hands wander around your body rapidly, scan every inch of your busted skin to be greeted by nothing.

“You healed me.”

“You saved me”, he replies briefly, hands still pressed onto your stomach ever so slightly.

Time stands still, the only thing you can think about are his eyes. The eyes that were filled with sorrow when staring into certain death, the eyes that roamed around your body to check for your injuries, the eyes that are now locked with yours.

“Thank you.”

“I need to thank you as well”, he answers calmly.

“I-…”

You don’t know what to say. Is all of this just a dream? This creature, this force of a man kneeling next to you is none other than the upper moon one, the most dangerous demon after Muzan Kibusuji himself. But he didn’t kill you. No, in fact he even healed your severe wounds, saved your life instead of sinking his teeth into you.

He spared you.

Your life was saved by a demon.

“Join the demon slayer corps. Come with me.”

Your words leave your mouth faster than you are able to even think, regret immediately washing over you like a wave. What on earth were you just saying?

“Did you forget how I am?”

“In exchange for saving your life”, you continue.

He just stares at you, eyes widen in sheer surprise. He expected everything when he followed your tracks tonight, the mission Muzan Kibutsuji entrusted Kokushibo with still present in his mind. It was fairly simple: Kill the hashira with the bright orbs, the girl on her way to a nearby village flooded by demons.

But now that he’s sitting right next to you, his hands still resting against your stomach, your heartbeat pounding against his palms, he simply can’t imagine to end your life right here and now. No, the urge to brush his fingertips over your cheek just once, to feel the heat of your skin becomes almost unbearable. Is it because of your innocent eyes, because you saved him despite he injured you severely?

“We live in different worlds, (y/n). It is simply impossible for me to be a part of yours.”

Your stomach drops by the way he says your name, breath getting stuck in your throat. You’ve seen countless demons in your life, always hated every single one with all of your heart. But this man showed you his real face, that he is still human after all these years. Maybe there is still hope, maybe turning into a demon doesn’t have to be a death sentence. Maybe…maybe you’ll be able to save Tanjiro Kamado’s sister.

“Promise that we’ll meet each other again. Promise me that you’ll visit me here right here again soon”, you urge.

“I…”

Kokushibo is los at words, lost in your bright orbs, lost in your tenderness. Not so long ago, he was on his way to end your life violently, to kill you and leave with the arrival of the sun. But now he finds himself right by your side, his mind wandering just by the exciting thought of meeting you again.

“I will visit you again”, he finally gives in.

“Good”, you breathe out.

“Now, tell me a little about yourself. After all, we are trapped here until the sun goes down.”

“I don’t enjoy talking that much.”

“Come on…”

-one year later-

Your eyes gleam in the down-going sun, whole body electrified in excitement. Only a few minutes before the sun is gone, only a few minutes until you finally see him again. As much as you adore the play of colours in the sky just before the sun sets, you started to love the tenderness of the night far more.

Because it means he’s able to walk freely, because it means finally seeing him again.

“There you are, sweetheart.”

Your heart skips a beat, cheeks already heating up before you even turned around. You wrap your arms around his tall figure in an instant, his thumb gently stroking over your forehead.

"I still despise that scar", he states, eyes lost in your sight.

He was the one who did this to you, the one who almost killed you that night.

“That was long ago, Koku, please don't worry about it. I missed you, where have you been?”

There he stands as charismatic as ever, his sheer presence alone signalling nothing but power. You never fail to notice that he’s around no matter where you are, looking after you while fighting off demons. Oh, how much he hates to hide in the shadow, to keep his affection a secret. But there is no way he’ll allow any other upper moon to harm a single hair on your body, let alone Muzan Kibutsuji himself.

Gently, you wrap your arms around him the way he adores so much, rest your head against his chest while he strokes your hair gently.

“I need to keep you save, I am not risking your life over one meeting, (y/n)”, he explains in all seriousness.

“I’d rather die than not seeing you”, you reply with a grin.

“Don’t say that, (y/n)”, he warns you while wrapping his arms tighter around your waist.

Need more? Click here for my Yoriichi x fem!reader fic!

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @kayleegomez @snowywhiterose @chosomybeloved3

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astolfofo · 2 years ago

Text

Notes: Slight lapse in judgement moment. (Please comment or reblog with something because I actually dedicated time for this one. I am humbly begging.)

Tw: non-con, gunplay, slight blood play, abusive behaviour, mentions of murder, yandere.

Tagging @yandere-romanticaa on this one, thank you for being the enabler to this (jokingly)

Also on a side note, if you want to listen to something when listening to this, it was inspired by sex with a ghost by teddy hyde, and bo en- pale machine (entire album)

Word count: 4.4K

Dazai had never quite sunken this low before.

He lays down onto the bed, with the gun clattering to the ground. He disregards it as he throws it to the floor, watching it slide across the room. It was useless now, anyways. There were no bullets inside, and it was quite the outdated model, that would be useless against anyone with even the slightest of strength.

All that’s left now is an overwhelming shame. An overwhelming shame that he touched himself, using that weapon for several previous hours, as a means to relieve himself. He feels so disgusted in himself again, as he looks at the rifle, which was now covered in a mixture of his own sweat and cum. It was so disgusting to look at, almost as evidence as to how much he had become a slave to his own desires. Almost as if he was succumbing to some kind of poision that plagued his mind on the daily.

And it didn’t even feel good, he thought to himself. I merely relieved myself enough to clear my mind, if even that.

Dazai looks around the room again. There’s nothing to see, and nothing to feel other than a sick sense of shame. A sense of shame that he decided to touch himself with a gun, while thinking of you. He wasn’t really thinking when he did that, he kind of just did it on impulse, without previous judgement. Yet as Dazai’s eyes dart back to the gun, and his mind drifts to other places. He pictures you cum, and sweat, with a mixture of yours and his cum dripping out of your hole. Your neck is covered with hickeys and bite marks and bruises running down your body. You’re panting, and slightly whimpering from pain, yet you also know he’s the only one who is able to fuck you this good.

He looks down at his cock, which is yet again, hard. He ignores it this time, not wanting to deal with his own arousal, instead choosing to lament over the fact that you were long gone from his life.

But still, he longs for your presence. A person long gone from his life. He longs for you to come back, but you never will.

Dazai shakes his head out of those thoughts, hoping to temporarily think about something else, anything at all that will make prison even slightly more bearable. He looks at the ceiling observing the fluorescent lights, and the solid white ceiling, which reminds him of the situation he’s currently in. Once again, he’s painfully reminded of why he was here. A detainment for ability users, built so they could stay here until they would eventually rot and die. There wasn’t any more to it than that.

He turns on the side again. He doesn’t want to think about that right now, either.

As he lays there, he’s painfully reminded how it’s been two years since you had broken up with him. Not that he was able to keep track of time in prision, but if he were to logically deduce the amount of times he had waken up and fallen asleep, it was about two years since you had broken up with him.

Yet the ghost of your presence haunts him constantly. Even after two years, Dazai had still not gotten over the breakup. No matter how badly he wanted to, he would always come back thinking of you. That you were still there, with him, and not somewhere else. That you still lived with him, that you never ran away from Yokohama, and that he never kidnapped and held you captive. He wanted to imagine that you’d be sitting at home, waiting, wondering where he was, instead of hopping on the nearest train, running away from him.

That you were the same person as who he met you first as, that somewhere at the back of your mind, you still thought of him, at least just a little.

However, he knew all of that was false. You were probably living a normal life again, back in your hometown, maybe with someone else you thought was better for you. Maybe by now, you had recovered from all the injuries he had gaven you over the years, maybe had gone back to the initial person you were, an individual he found so intriguing and rare, that he unwillingly fell for.

He was happy for you, if you were. As happy as he could be, if not exceptionally bitter.

He closes his eyes and imagines you again, how you would look right now, smiling and with some… other guy. It’s not a pleasant feeling imagining you with someone else. Jealousy, envy, and a eerie sort of anger arise in him. No… it’s not anger, he’s not sure what it was. It was closer to an urge to take you away from him, for whatever unknown reason.

Still, you had long ago let go of him, but he’d never let go of you. You had never loved him, but he’d needed you more than man needs air to live. He pictures the scene again, and that possessive feeling comes back again. It felt almost as if the air was being knocked out of his lungs the longer he looked at you and the man together.

You plagued his mind constantly, to the point where Dazai was willing to relieve the pain by almost killing himself with the rifle earlier. Still however, Dazai recognized he needed you as man needs air to live.

Yet he felt rooted in the ground, as his mind went blank again. He felt as if he was fighting a primal urge. He felt as if he was struggling in a room devoid of air, as the helplessness begins to settle down. But he won’t give up, he’ll fight until the very last second to stay alive. All he needs is for that man to be gone. Witnessing so… happy with another man made it feel like every breath he took was poision, and every step he took feel like stabbing his foot. He doesn’t want to see this again.

His vision goes blurry, and then black.

Dazai’s now walking down a dark alleyway. He’s not sure where it is, or how he got there, but he feels as if he’s stuck here now. There’s no sense of urgency, rather, a small, creeping sense of paranoia of why or how he’s here. The alleyway feels endless as if he was trying to escape a large maze. He can’t see to the other end of the alleyway, instead, constantly running into dead ends.

He wonders where he is. Was this another dream of some type? He can’t say for sure, it feels too surreal to be reality. But whatever it was, he felt like he was supposed to find something. There was something else in the maze… that was more important than a way out.

You.

At that exact moment, he hears footsteps. He turns around to see you walking in a different direction, at the entrance of the dead end he currently stands in. You’re calm, you look the same as you always did. And he’ll chase after you this time.

Dazai walks as quietly as he could, following you, to wherever you plan on going. You make several turns; one right and three lefts, before you stop at a door. A door that would likely lead you elsewhere, away from him. To somewhere you wanted to go, or needed to go. But that wasn’t the concern. If he let you go through the door, you’d be gone again. Gone forever.

And he’d lose you again. He can’t lose you again.

“Leaving so soon (Y/N)?”

You look at him. You finally turn around and look at him. He can’t tell the exact emotion of your facial expression, but he takes it with relish either way. Your eyes are wide, contorted with fear, yet anger, with some kind of underlying urgency. A urgency to run. Escape the situation.

But Dazai’s faster than you are. As you try to push open the door, Dazai manages to grab onto your arm and push you back first. You gasp for a quick second, and then regain your composure again, glaring daggers into his eyes.

“Let… Let me go you fucking bastard.”

Dazai smirks, “No.”

As on instinct, your breathing becomes shallow and rapid, as your face fills with dread and anxiety. You’re fighting against his grip, trying to break free from the position Dazai has you in, with your arms pinned against the wall, and his knee in between your thighs, keeping you in place. Dazai, on instinct, grips you by the arms tighter, until you feel like there’s no blood going into your hands.

“You were going to leave, weren’t you?” He mutters. “You were going to leave me alone here, and escape. You know I was going to find you either way, right?”

You open your mouth to protest at him, to tell him to fuck off, but nothing comes out of your mouth. Your jaw feels glued shut, it feels paralyzed.

“You can never truly escape from me, no matter how hard you try to forget the days I held you captive. No matter what, you’ll meet me again in some way, some shape, or some form,” he continues. “You should just accept that.”

Your heart is racing. You want to speak, you want to scream, but your brain doesn’t seem to be able to command your body to do these things. You’re struggling. Your hands are still shaking, trying to break free of his grip. You’re doing everything you can just to not give out on the spot, because you know, that Dazai will take you away if you do that. But you can’t win against him either. Not like this.

Your jaw trembles, as you attempt to call for help, scream, see if anyone is there. But Dazai is faster than you. He covers your mouth and you make out a muffled sound instead. “Shh.. don’t scream. There’s no one here to help you anyways.”

His voice sounds so gentle, so soft, it sounds loving, and genuine, if only you didn’t know what he had done to you at all. Dazai was always good at this, you could never say no to him, he always knew how to make your irrational heart win against your logical brain. Even though you could deny it to yourself all you wanted… if Dazai wasn’t so… cruel to you, you would have fallen for him several times over. But he wasn’t.

He was a monster. A monster with a luring personality, and a luring face, waiting for you to fall. Waiting for you to fall so he can posses you wholly. And you would have never known otherwise, until truly understood who and what he was.

“Just let me have my way with you, just this once, yeah?”

He doesn’t wait for your answer. It wasn’t like he was going to listen whether you said yes or no, anyways. No matter what your answer was, he was going to continue with his actions.

And so, he kissed you. As always, they start off so gentle, so tender, that you could believe it was true. That he wasn’t going to be rough with you later on. His sweet demeanor could only last so long before he lost control of himself.

So you were right. Within moments of your lips touching, his kissing instantly became more desprate, as if his life depended on it. Soon, you begin trying to pull back to breathe, but Dazai won’t let you. He’s waited two years, he’s not going to wait any longer.

So you try to breathe through your nose with as much oxygen as you can get. Dazai doesn’t stop, he’s trying to engrain the taste of your mouth inside his brain, he’s trying to make this last forever. It’s what he truly wants.

And so the gentleness that masks him as human is gone now. He’s doesn’t care if you’re struggling to breathe, or if this is all wrong, that he should let you have your own free will. He’s acting as a man who has not seen oxygen in years. A man that has been rejuvenated back into life by your presence.

And so his actions, initially kissing, have now turned into an action so rough, that it was making your mouth bleed slightly. And he doesn’t stop. The blood gets smeared over both your mouths, the taste of the iron stinging your tongue, and the back of your throat. It gets into his mouth too, and smears over both your lips, almost like a lipstick.

And only when it’s like that, does he stop. But you know this is far from done. You know what happens next and you don’t want it to happen. You inhale through your mouth, trying the best to ignore that your mouth is bleeding. You chest heaves up and down, while Dazai watches, wiping the blood off your blood off his mouth, and tasting it.

It’s addictive. It tastes so sweet to him.

Dazai then grips your chin with his index finger and thumb, while running his thumb over your lips. It’s supposed to be an intimate gesture, maybe a slightly romantic one, but you flinched either way.

You had always reacted this way to Dazai’s touch. No matter how many times he touched you, it always felt foreign to you. None of his actions felt they were done purely as of itself. They always led onto to something, often meant to confuse you. You hated it. You couldn’t what he wanted to do when he did certain actions and you always got the feeling he was playing with you for the fun of it, and that was most likely the case, most of the time.

Dazai smears the blood on your face and admires you.

Your face is visibily red, from the aggressive makeout session,, and your hair is discheveled, covering fractions of your face. Dazai brushes those strands away, as he looks at you. In return, you glare at him, feeling slightly grossed out, but in no position to protest. He then lets go of your arms, letting you fall slack against the wall for a second, and the realization hits again. Your heartbeat quickens at that, and you feel the urge to run, again.

Before you can make a move, you’re held in place again, by Dazai’s knee, which held you securely to the wall. You watch in terror as he takes off his coat and tosses it aside, discarded on the floor. No words are exchanged between the two of you, as you stare at him. Dazai moves his hands towards your chest, and starts unbuttoning your shirt as well.

“D-dazai… please stop…” you mutter.

Dazai puts a finger over your lips. “Just relax, and try to enjoy it, okay? I’ll make sure you feel good, and that you’ll never forget this time.”

“N-no that’s not what I mean. I don’t… I don’t want to do this…please…”

“It’s okay, darling. You know you want this, either way.”

The very air around you and Dazai seemed to be suffocating in a way you couldn’t quite say. It was tense, almost like an elastic band pulled to the very limit of what it could do, awaiting to snap at any moment.

And you were angry. Angry at Dazai that he wanted to do this. Angry at yourself for being caught by him. You felt an indescribable rage inside of you for what he had done to you over the years. Yet everytime, he still says he loves you.

Dazai would never let you go.

No matter where you went, he’d always find a way to get you back. You’re the only thing that he has left. The only thing that he truly wants to live for.

But you didn’t want to accept that for yourself. In fact, you couldn’t care less why the stupid bastard was so obsessed with you, to the point where you got sucked into this dream. You use the free hand, and slap Dazai in the face. It catches him off-guard enough for you to run back towards the door and open it. It creaks open, only for his hand to cover your mouth again, pushing you back against the wall, and keeping you in place.

“You’re not leaving.” Dazai snarls into your ear. “Try all you want, but I’m not letting you go.”

You claw at his hand, trying to pry it off.

“Maybe I should fuck you stupid enough, so you never think of doing that again, hm?”

You gaze at him in horror this time, while his hands travel back to your shirt and unbutton it completely this time, letting it fall to the floor. You wince slightly, due to how cold it is in the alleyway. Dazai then moves to your pants and begins unzipping them, and pulling them down to your ankles.

You once again, slightly recoil in disgust of his actions, but in no position to protest or escape. Now, you’re almost naked, left to the mercy of Dazai to do what he likes with you.

Tears sting your eyes. The, what felt like, slow torture of this entire situation felt painful.

Finally, Dazai takes off his pants. He’s painfully hard, and you cringe in disgust about how your fighting, struggling, and even crying aroused him so much.

Dazai moves his hands behind your back, unhooking your bra, and then he moves to your underwear. The last barrier separating you and him. He takes it off, noticing how wet it really is, and then tossing it aside too.

“My, my, (Y/N). You were that wet from just kissing? I thought you didn’t want this at all.”

“I-I don’t.”

“But your body does. You may deny it all you want, but your body yearns for me. You’ve been leaning into my touch ever since we met. Sure, you’re disgusted in what I’m doing, but do you want to know what your body thinks?”

A pure look of anger which slowly changes into fear fills your face. Dazai leans into the crook of your neck.

“It’s nice to be held be Dazai, isn’t it? You can’t change biological desire. And I think… you know I understand that better than anyone.”

And so, Dazai turns you onto your back, and pushes his entire cock inside of you. You hiss from the sudden intrusion that felt all to familiar and foreign at the same time.

And it reminds you of how painfully well he knows you, yet how little you know him.

And you feel his hands grab onto your hips, and he begins bouncing you up and down on his length, never failing to hit that place inside of you that sent sparks of pleasure up your body.

And he wasn’t being gentle this time, too. If he had been going any faster than he already was, you were sure it would have hurt more than brought pleasure to you.

And he repeats these actions, over, and over. It’s always been that way. Yet your mind felt like it was still melting from the actions. You can’t help it. You can’t help yourself. It feels so good, and you know only Dazai can do this to you.

You almost have to bite back on moaning as he constantly hits that spot. You refused to give him that satisfaction.

Dazai seems to notice this as well. “Don’t hold back. You know I’ll get what I want in the end, anyways.”

Your breath hitches. You knew that. But you didn’t want to give Dazai the satisfaction of having all power over you. But that was all slowly becoming impossible as you came to the realization that physically, you had always wanted Dazai carnally, your mind just believed otherwise.

And as Dazai pushes you down particularly hard that time on his cock, you can’t help but loudly squeal at how good it really felt. It felt mind-numbing lay good. You enjoyed the pain, all too well.

Dazai smirks against your neck again, knowing that he had gotten you in a state where he has all the power. He leans into your neck. He bites down on the flesh, hard enough to draw blood. He licks at the blood enjoying the taste.

And at this exact moment, your hole clench around him too, signalling that you were close to your high.

Dazai groans slightly, taking in the pleasure of the feeling. But he was never kind enough to let you reach your high on the first round.

And he wasn’t going to be kind this time, either.

He bounces you on his cock at a more rapid pace, as your moans get higher and higher, until your cunt is clenching around him tight enough that he almost felt like you could snap his cock off.

And to think you didn’t like it? It made him scoff.

Dazai feels himself chasing his high too. It had been so long… since he had last done this. He felt fulfilled. He felt like he, himself, were on cloud nine, all his previous emotions relieved, instead a dark sort of pleasure replacing any previous emotions.

You’re no different yourself. Despite your anger and hatred towards him, even from one look at your eyes, he could tell you were craves this in a carnal way as well. And for miles around, only the slapping of skin, combined with wet noises, and moaning could be heard. There was no need for anymore than that.

But then it all stops. You look at him in confusion, whining slightly, as he pulls out. Dazai never let you come the first time. He would reduce you to a whining, brainless, mess before allowing you to cum. Only to let you cum so many times, that you wouldn’t even be able to walk the next day.

Yet as for himself, he would cum countless times, until your holes were filled with him, and until your body was covered in it. His cum.

You wince at the gross sticky sensation between your legs again. You feel Dazai’s cum running down your thigh, and it feels disgusting. Normally, you’d yell at him for him to pull out, but right now, your mind was too hazed with other things to care.

“You think you get to cum on the first round after acting like that?”

You don’t respond, trying to get rid of the feeling of being so empty.

“You’re really that desperate, aren’t you?”

You still don’t respond, breathing heavily. Your mind is numbed again, still trying to recover from the myriad of sensations hitting you. Your mind is still hazy with lustful desire.

Dazai sighs, “I suppose I’ll just have to make you cum over, and over, and over, until you can’t anymore.

Your eyes slowly widen again, as you stare at him. “No…. No… please anything but tha-“

“Shh… shh… it’s okay belladonna. You’ll feel so good at the end of it. Promise.”

“No please… Dazai, I didn’t mean it like that. Please, please… it’ll hurt….”

Dazai caresses your face. It’s a gentle, tender action that you want to lean into. But you know it feels more like a nurse preparing you for a needle. A very painful needle that would scar you your arm, that would make you look in shame for the rest of your life.

He kisses you, again, and you have no choice to accept what he gives you.

Dazai looks at you. You’ve came more times than he could actually count, to the point where you weren’t even conscious anymore. You’re covered in cum, sweat, and scratch and bruise marks. A mixture of yours and his cum drips out of your hole, and he takes the sight in with a sick sort of satisfaction.

He’ll a,ways love you. In his own sick, twisted way. Every step he takes, every breath he takes. He’ll do it all for you. You don’t belong to anyone else. You’re his, only his.

No matter how far you go, you’ll always be pulled back to him.

He picks you up, and kisses you on the forehead. You look so peaceful.. sleeping. He drapes his jacket over you, and puts his clothes back on.

“Let’s go home now, shall we Belladonna?”

He walks out of the alleyway, his footsteps echoing throughout the walls.

—-

One light flickers.

Static fills Dazai’s ears. He opens his eyes. He sits up disoriented, looking around at his surroundings.

That’s right.

He’s still in prison, he’s still detained in this room, and he forever will be. Until he tries to escape. Until there’s a way out of this, he‘ll just have to stay here, and hope for the best. At this moment, he remembers why he was here in the first place.

He turns on his on his back again. The desolate ceiling mocks him.

But his mind doesn’t want to think about that now. That dream he just had…. It felt so surreal yet real at the same time. He wonders if you were actually there, or if it was just a figment of his imagination.

There’s an obvious answer to that question, though. It’s not even worth asking.

You’re gone. Forever. He doesn’t even know where you are. You don’t know where he is either.

He thought of that dream just to relive his own desires. There’s nothing more to it. Everything is still the same. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel some delusional hope that something was different today.

But he should crush that hope before disappointment gets to him again.

Just then, there is a knock in the door. He wonders who it is. As he walks towards the door, he wonders why the prison guards are bothering him. Yet again. It wasn’t like he had done anything over the previous days.

He twists the doorknob, thinking about what he’s going to say this time. Maybe he’ll even punch them in the face.

However, as he pulls the door back, it’s not what he expected at all.

No… maybe being hopeful worked, for once. Maybe the dream was to tell him something.

It’s you.

You’re here.

And if looks could kill, he would just be about dead now.

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tornrose24 · 3 months ago

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By now a lot of people have seen that post by one of the TGAMM creators about how they’d continue the show if Disney allowed it after completing the last episode. And while the idea is fascinating, it’s really telling when a huge chunk of the fandom actually DOESN’T want Scratch to die for real in order for him to come back to Molly.

On one hand, I get the ‘life is too short and we have to use what time we have to live life to the fullest because you never know when your last day comes.’ Also, there’s the fact that, yes Scratch WOULD have to become a ghost again for that show title to still make sense.

But on the other… I think the majority of the fandom is in agreement that Scratch losing his life after only a handful of years of being a human again is really cruel. We’ve grown to care about him and his ability to find his happiness and finally live his life out after all he went through. He managed to overcome his fears to accomplish his dreams, and to just lose the rest of his life after already spending 10 years as a ghost is just… it’s like a cruel joke you’d expect in a lesser show with mean spirited humor. Considering the fact that a lot of fans relate to Scratch (to the point of seeing themselves in his backstory), it’s also doubly mean.

And then there’s the fact that Scratch never really had a chance to share his regained human life with Molly, beyond that one bus stop conversation, with what little time was left. He was already denied his memories with her, but to be denied that chance to truly be human alongside his friend for longer than a few fleeting minutes…. That emotionally hurts me.

Look, I get why the creators went with him forgetting Molly, but that was already painful as is. Having him die so abruptly makes it even worse.

I could see the plot line of ‘Scratch returning to Molly at her lowest point’ happening, but I’d rather see it with him as a human, and he regains his memories because of the incident that would have killed him. I think there’s more potential for angst where she could assume that he’s still forgotten her and it’s hard for her to get attached to him because he’s already left her before, and combined with the fact that Ollie’s now gone too (plus Patty if they still kill her off), she doesn’t want to open her heart to someone that she knows will just leave again.

But eventually Scratch could convince her that he does remember and that, even if there’s so much bad in the world that she can’t change, she made his life better and he was able to live-and still live-because of her. She was able to make a lot of things better for everyone despite all the bad that happens outside of Brighton. And I think-because of all the real life stuff that’s been happening-we all would need that kind of reassurance.

#the ghost and molly mcgee #scratch the ghost #molly mcgee #I’d do a fan fic about this if I wasn’t so busy #todd mortenson #thoughts on that one story idea and most of the fans had the same opinion

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year ago

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Reptile/Syzith hc with a gender neutral partner who can respawn after death and he's not aware when it hoppemd? Like it's not something they told him be sure they didn't anticipate to die but one day they die in an accident. They stay dead for a bit but eventually 'load' back in and respawn completely unharmed as if nothing happened like it's a video game.

Gifted with an ability to seemingly never stay dead might’ve been a power many would make a wish for, but you would always say it was because they were looking at it from a surface level, seeing it as something for what they wanted it to be rather then acknowledging it for what it actually was; a curse. They’d never be able to comprehend the catastrophic consequences that comes with the ability, nor would ever understand how much it takes away from you until it was far too late.

Not to mention the toll it takes on your mental psyche.

To you, it wasn’t necessarily something you’d boldly put out there in the open nor admit to having pride in, for upon every time you’ve come back from the dead, it had left you feeling less and less human in every sense of the word.

You did feel some guilt when you actively decided to not tell Syzoth about your powers, seeing as you weren’t put in a situation where you could demonstrate actual proof of your ability. Yet due to this lack of foresight and preparation, it made the accident all the more heartbreaking for your reptiloid lover, who felt as though his last chance to being happy was ripped away from him in a violent manor; that of which left him feeling a sense of desperation to save you anyway he could.

Syzoth felt as though he was the one who died the night of the attack, he wasn’t that far away from the scene when it happened, but then why did Syzoth felt as though he were miles away as he watched with vengeful eyes and his heart in his throat. He tired to close the distance between him, you and your supposed killer but as he managed to make it to your side, the kill had cowardly ran off into the shadows; leaving a poor weeping Syzoth to pathetically scoop you up into his arms, cringing at how cold you were within his arms that felt all forms or wrong to him.

He didn’t want to believe it, not one bit. Someone or something out there didn’t want him to be happy and wanted to see how far they could break him. So to test that theory, they just had to take you from him didn’t they? Syzoth wished he had died instead and would probably ask for someone, anyone to kill him so that he may be with you in whatever afterlife you were currently residing in, waiting for him.

However those who were made aware of your abilities from firsthand experience should try and hold Syzoth from doing something rash before you returned. They’d look out for Syzoth on your behalf, much to his distain, but none of them were willing to risk the reaction you’d have should one of them ever have to tell you that Syzoth died to join you in the afterlife. After all it was only a matter of time before you’d respawned and it was up to them to keep Syzoth moving until then.

Unfortunately for them and Syzoth, it would be a long while before you finally managed to respawn again, meaning that you were genuinely dead for a bit and at first you thought that your powers had been taken from you, but it wasn’t long before you found out that was completely and utterly not the case as you found yourself with a face full of life and no visible wounds that you could see. So naturally you went to find Syzoth and tell him the truth.

Now imagine Syzoth’s surprise when he caught sight of you, alive and unharmed. The poor guy thought he was seeing your ghost or believed that his mind was messing with him into believing his most deepest of delusions. So right off the bat he was both startled and skeptical at the sight of you, thinking it was some darker forces at work who wanted to use your death as a way to manipulate him. His hurt was still fresh and Syzoth would very much like to not be reminded of his losses, especially during the times where he is most vulnerable and susceptible for manipulation.

Syzoth: who are you and why do you wear my lovers face?! Are you the one who took their life?!

You: woah Syzoth! Allow me to explain-

Syzoth: there is nothing that is needed to be explained! Reveal your true self before things gets messy! For I will avenge my lovers death.

You: I will not fight you Syzoth!

Syzoth: that’s too bad because I’ve been needing an excuse to start one.

You: you liked being cuddled up against me at night because you say I make the nightmares go away, that I make everything okay by putting you back together again piece by piece. You’d like to tell me that I’m your better half but i would always counter and say that you’re my better half.

Syzoth: …y/n?

You: You’ve always have been my better half Syzoth because ever since we’ve been dating I’ve been hiding apart of myself from you that I am ashamed of.

Syzoth: and whatever could you ashamed of, my love?

You: my power, my power is what I am ashamed of my beloved, for I can’t stay dead not matter what for I always seem to wake up with no dire wounds to speak of. Which is why you can see me as clearly as you do now.

Syzoth: you’re actually alive?

You: yeah. I’m sorry for lying to you my sweet.

Syzoth: you need not apologise my love, to know that you are still will me is all I ever wished for nowadays.

That night and every other night after Syzoth clings to you just that little bit tighter and stays by your side, refusing to ever part from you for long periods of time.

#mk1 #mk x y/n #mk x reader #mk imagine #mortal kombat x you #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat imagine #mortal kombat x y/n #mortal kombat imagines #syzoth imagine #syzoth x reader #syzoth imagines #syzoth x you #syzoth x y/n

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dreamingofaizawa · 5 months ago

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Never Let Him Go

Szayelaporro Granz x Arrancar! Reader

Warnings: None, just some fluffy falling in love and shii

Word Count: 2.5k

Author's Note: Well it would seem I'm obsessed with Bleach. No, this is not medically accurate LMAO I'm no doctor and these are hollows. Yeah there's a whole lot more coming lmao be prepared (I'm also working on another Shouta Aizawa fic from MHA but you didn't hear that from meeeeee)

Enjoy~

You’d heard the speech that the weird looking Soul Reaper Captain had rattled on about. You’d waited until they all left, until he’d taken the injured and was sated rummaging through Master Szayelaporro’s lab. You had to wait, no matter how close the Master was to dying, or you’d die as well and then there was no saving him at all. When you’d finally been able to tend to him, he was still frozen in that pose, one arm outstretched and a broken zanpakuto piercing his palm and chest. You used your abilities to see into his chest cavity, thanking whatever higher being there could be in this universe the zanpakuto had only barely sliced into his heart.

He’d live, as long as you could make it back to the medical lab.

Carefully, you pulled the Zanpakuto out and away from the organ, using your small bit of healing abilities to seal the wounded tissue. He’d lost his resurrecion sometime between the shinigami departing and now, the form shattering and reverting back to its blade at his hip. It only takes you a moment, slipping one of his arms over your shoulders and wrapping your arm around his waist, in a short series of sonido to get to your personal lab, away from Las Noches, far far away in the depths of the Menos Forest where not even Lord Aizen would care much to venture. Not for you, and not for the Espada he’s probably written off as dead.

___

How long has it been? Years, surely. Nothing ever moved, not until he’d noticed something was in a different place than it used to be. It all faded into a blur, his wish for death taking far too long to come to fruition. And then, he’d spotted you. You, moving ever so slowly toward him in the rubble. It took months for you to reach him. You were running, straight toward him. His mind protests when you start to examine him, for years he screams in his mind when you reach for the blade piercing his chest, and his hatred builds for you once the blade is free. Surely, you weren’t cruel enough to keep him alive. Between the months of your slowed motions, he realizes he recognizes you. You weren’t assigned as his fraccion, no you weren’t assigned at all to anyone. You were one of those odd medic fraccions, one that spent some time in his own lab just observing and attending to his subjects when they weren’t able to remain awake. You…what the hell did you think you were doing? Your movement suddenly got faster, taking hours instead of months. A sonido? He could almost see the fluidity of the motions, almost actually see them move! That alone put a nasty spark of hope in his mind, one he quickly squashed.

Then he was on a table, and you were all over the place. An eternity you’d spent hovering over him, spreading ointments, flashing lights, gazing into his eyes. In those eons he spent face to face with you, his hatred and anger dissipated, replaced with dreadful curiosity. You were trying to save him? Why? You had no obligation to do so, and should Aizen find out you may be killed. But… He hasn’t found out yet? It’s been so long since that battle with Captain Mayuri Kibutsuchi, how does Aizen not know? Belatedly, he remembers his perception of time is skewed, dragged out impossibly long. And yet, he can see things still happening around him. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way to reverse this plague.

Another eon passes, your body hunched over the counter in the lab. He can only guess what you’re doing, with your body blocking everything to his gaze. His hand has been moved, in the time he’s been laying there, and rests on his chest. The ache that formed there was ebbing slowly away, the pain he’d been feeling for a millennia finally dulling down. It’s like he can breathe again. And then you’re above him again, your eyes boring into his own. He’d long determined that you were looking for any kind of reaction in his eyes. If anything you were doing had any effect on his drugged state.

It’s a very long time you spend, your nose almost touching his own. It’s all he can do to examine your face, commit to memory every pore, every follicle, even the ridges of your iris he sears into his brain. You’re beautiful, he muses. He’s been staring at your form for decades, noting the way your hair falls over your face, how your lashes fall gently over your supple cheeks with every week-long blink, how the single tear you’d produced falls down to your chin and slips into the collar of your uniform. He notes your dedication to saving him. To him, you’ve been spending thousands of years tending to him. He sees your need to save him, sees the desperation forming in your eyes, relief and sadness and frustration. You’re so very beautiful, in all your emotions. He reflects on his own desperation for perfection, thinks upon his life as an espada. What had he been searching and experimenting so hard and long for? Perfection. But perfection was not a result, not a single end product to work toward. That fool Mayuri was wrong, perfection was a state of being, an acceptance, but why had he spent so much time on it when perfection was right here? You were right here the whole time.

Your hands were delicate, where they lay over him. Your footfalls light and your hips swaying gently. Your movements, however slow, were gentle and meticulous. It felt as though you were worshiping his body, trying to save him from this eternal hell.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he falls in love with you.

___

You’ve stretched every resource thin. You don’t know what to do. Nothing is working, adrenaline shots do nothing, and there’s no way of knowing what that captain had used to create this potion of his. It’s been days. You’ve spent days with Szayel, hooked him up to an air regulator and a hollow’s equivalent of a ‘pacemaker’ to keep his heart and lungs going. An IV is keeping his nutrition up, but there’s nothing else you can do. You’re stuck. You need to think. You’d already taken blood samples to try to pinpoint the poison, but nothing makes any sense to you. All of these things are foreign to you, the compounds in his blood not having broken down at all. Wait. They should have broken down by now, surely. They can’t remain in his bloodstream forever, right? Maybe they won’t dissipate on their own. Maybe, just maybe, you can take it out.With that, you get to work. It takes a few hours, but you've managed it. A filter that removes all traces of the toxin from the blood. All that’s left to do is hook it to a centrifuge and filter his blood through it. This will work, right? It has to work.

___

There’s something in your eyes. He can see it. Determination, hope, that flicker of brilliance when an idea finally comes to you. You’re everywhere, tubes and needles and…a centrifuge? What on earth could you be doing? In all this time, he’s been resolved to the fact that all you’ve been doing is tending his wounds and keeping him alive. But what is this? What else could you do for him? You’re working tirelessly. It takes him far too long to understand, once all of the pieces of your puzzle are completed. It’s only when you’ve put two needles into his body, and the blood begins to flow through the tubes up into the machine that he understands.

You were removing the poison from his bloodstream, manually. It could be genius. You must have found something important, something crucial, to be taking such a measure. The poison infecting him must not be diluting in his body, lingering just as strong as the initial infection. So you’ve decided to take it out by force. You couldn’t be more perfect, the little genius you are.

When his blood, now filtered, finds its way back down the other tube and starts to enter his bloodstream, it’s an instantaneous effect. His memories are processing now, he can remember all of the movements and words you’d poured over him like he hadn’t been living an agonizingly slow existence. The memories are playing in his mind at full speed, his brain is processing things fully for the first time in what feels like millions of years.

___

You can see it working. His chest is rising and falling on its own, the machine regulating his breathing no longer whirring as loudly to help his lungs inflate. The ‘pacemaker’ you’d put in with your special abilities is dissipating, no longer necessary for him to live. And he’s blinking, actually blinking. Slowly, but still. It’s working! You watch your screen carefully, and as you approach 70% of his blood filtered he begins to move his limbs, one hand slowly reaching up and pulling the mask off his mouth. He’s trying to say something, but you only shush him.

“Hold on just a little bit longer, Master Szayelaporro. I promise, it’s almost done. Just a few more minutes and you’re free.” He relaxes after that, allowing you to finish up your little filtering job and finally, finally, the machine beeps and your screen flashes with those beautiful numbers. 100% of his blood has been cycled through and filtered, a vial of that poison sat in the centrifuge. It’s done. You look back at him, only to find he’d yanked the mask off his face and removed the needles from his arms, completely disconnecting himself from the machine. He was standing right behind you, and as you turned you couldn’t help the beaming smile on your face, tears beginning to streak down your cheeks.

___

It was the most beautiful sight he’s seen, your tears falling at a normal speed and your smile brighter than the false sun Aizen had created. He reached out and cupped your face in his palm, and when you leaned into it he couldn’t help the way his heart thumped against his ribcage. That made his breath shudder, the feeling of his heart actually beating, instead of the low, constant rush of blood flowing rhythmically for months and months without end.

___

“Master Szayelaporro? How are you feeling?” His hand on your cheek made your heart flutter, but you had to ignore it all. You grasped that hand, removing it in favor of holding it in both your hands at your chest. His voice catches in his throat, which must be exceedingly dry, so you reach over to the glass of water you’d had waiting and let him sip at it. The glass is placed behind you on the desk and he finally speaks.

“I feel like kissing you.” You gasp, and before you can even think about it he’s doing just that, kissing absolutely breathless. His lips are chapped just a little, but they’re insistent and gentle and refuse to leave your own. His hands find any part of you to grab, your hips, arms, shoulders, fingers caressing your neck and cheeks and threading through your hair. You’re stunlocked, only able to clutch at his shoulders as he smothers you. You’re gasping when he finally lets up, heart pounding in your chest.

“M-master Szayelaporro, what’s gotten into you?” He leans down and places his forehead on yours, noses touching and he sighs into your pace.

“You must know how that felt for me, being under that curse.” You nod. You heard the rant, the explanation. It must have felt like years upon years while he was lying still on that table.

“Then you should understand that while you were working on me, I’d spent millennia watching you, memorizing everything about you.” What is he getting at? This does not sound like the same Szayelaporro that you’d known only days ago.

“I have spent what feels like hundreds of thousands of years staring at you in all your beauty. You, you beautiful creature, brilliant and gorgeous, and…” his hands move to your waist and squeeze, “and soft. So soft.” Then he’s kissing you again, stealing your breath away and clutching your hips like you’ll disappear if he lets go. It’s dizzying, the affection he’s lathering you with. You’ve never once heard this man give any sort of compliment or praise to anything or anyone other than himself. Had he really changed that much in such a short time? Then, the realization hits just how long he must have been trapped in his own head. He’d said hundreds of thousands of years. If that is how long his perception of these few days have stretched out, then of course he’d be a completely different person. His entire being has been altered by the passage of time.

“Please, Master Szayelaporro, you need to rest.” You gently push at his shoulders to separate from his lips, as much as you loathe to do so. He really does need to rest.

“Just Szayel is fine, my love. I’m no espada, not anymore. And I’m never going back to that place.” You smile up at him, and he can’t help but smile back, that grin brighter than the moon that hangs in the sky of Hueco Mundo. You reach up and brush back the pink hair that’s fallen over his face, tucking it neatly behind his ear.

“I never got the chance to tell you how pretty you are, Szayel.” That’s no lie, he’s a beautiful man. You’ve been harboring a crush on him for years now, but you knew he’d never reciprocate it under normal circumstances. You were just another fraccion, not even one of his own. Content to just exist, barely in his orbit, you allowed yourself to dare to dream about telling him just how gorgeous you thought he was. Not to mention just how intelligent he is. His experiments may be chaotic, maybe even cruel sometimes, but he is no doubt a genius. Until now, he’d never shown capabilities of any emotion other than annoyance or distaste, and the occasional joy with a successful experiment. But now, he’s everything you wanted and more.

“Well it’s a good thing you’ve waited until now. I’d like to know something else though.” He glances at you, hopeful.

“Anything.”

“Can I kiss you again?” The giggle that slips past your lips is swallowed by his own, your agreeing nod interrupted by a slow, sensual, searing kiss. One thought runs through your mind, finally able to accept such affection from the man you’ve been craving for so long.

You never want to let him go.

#szayelaporro granz #bleach szayel #szayelaporro x reader #szayelaporro granz x reader #szayelaporro bleach #bleach x reader

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billdenbrough · 6 months ago

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@naturecalls111 and i were joking around about kevin’s fantasies, which got us back to this post, and for reasons too long to explain here, we ended up discussing a version of kevin explaining the second one. i said they were mutually kinda tipsy when it came up in convo, but kevin was a little more affected (despite his size) because he’d been doing Active Things in the sun all day while aaron had mostly been chilling (kinda a la the summer rituals fic). mina was like ok so they should be dumb enough to try this and i was like i’m concerned about kevin drowning, thought about it for another second, and wrote her this in our chat

notsfw!! it’s pretty soft and not particularly explicit but the premise very much is attempting kevin’s pier blowjob fantasy lmao so proceed with caution

“I don’t think this is going to work,” Aaron says.

Kevin, already pulling off his shirt, looks over at him. “You told me last week I’m in peak physical health,” he says seriously.

“Kevin, you’re the one who said you’d need to be a merman,” Aaron says exasperatedly.

Kevin finishes pulling off his shirt. Aaron allows himself to run his eyes along the ridges and grooves of Kevin’s chest, slowly mapping it all. He kind of wants to do it with his fingers, even his tongue. There’s something in Kevin’s eyes—darkened, watchful—that says he’d let him.

But they came here for a reason, one they won’t get to if Aaron gives in to his little wants, so Aaron swallows, sighs, and looks away.

“Only half the time,” Kevin says. Aaron can feel his eyes on him. “Are you going to take off your clothes?”

“I thought the point was that I’d look normal,” Aaron points out, finally looking back at him.

Kevin huffs, but concedes. “Okay. Just make sure, you know, to get it out.”

Aaron is about to bully him for that phrasing—get it out; what is this, grade school?—when Kevin takes a run to the end of the pier, diving in gracefully, his body an impossibly lean arc against the night sky.

With a sigh, Aaron moves to the edge. He sits down, sliding as close to the edge as he can without falling off and, as per Kevin, ‘gets it out’. Kevin surfaces and wades over, staring at Aaron.

The tide is high, and the pier a little low, which is the only reason this is even slightly possible. Still, Kevin’s brow creases.

“This would be easier as a merman,” he says. “Tail propulsion power.”

Aaron cannot believe he still wants to fuck this man.

“You are ridiculous,” he says, huffing. “Am I meant to imagine you’re a merman?”

“No,” Kevin says seriously. “I don’t want you to reduce your estimation of my physical ability on display right now by pinning it on fantastical causes.”

“That was never a risk,” Aaron says, and intends to continue, but then Kevin’s got his arms planted on the pier, the forearms locked around Aaron’s thighs as a way to brace Kevin’s upper body, and he’s taking Aaron’s dick into his mouth.

Aaron lets out a low, startled moan. A little warning? he wants to say, but then he looks at Kevin, and all the words die in his mouth. He’s so – distinct, like this. A stark thing against the backdrop of the world. The ocean and night sky are so large, but Aaron’s world narrows down to just Kevin, with his focused eyes fixed on Aaron, his stupidly sun-red and alcohol-raw and kiss-swollen lips a sharp contrast against Aaron’s dick, and he’s so fucking beautiful. So fucking beautiful, and just looking at Aaron, all his attention on Aaron.

So Aaron can’t bring himself to tease him right now, not like this. He strokes Kevin’s hair instead, marvels at his stamina. It’s not the best blowjob he’s ever had—the angle and leverage are working against them, and so is the lack of being able to feel Kevin’s body whenever he wants, the water even covering his ability to look—but it’s one that Kevin wanted to give him so much that he jumped into the ocean for it, and that makes something in Aaron’s chest get uncomfortably tight, makes arousal curl hot and low in his belly.

Kevin pulls off with a gasp and a soft thwick. There’s a line of spit connecting those lips to Aaron’s dick.

“That’s a workout,” Kevin says, looking at his forearms. They’re trembling against Aaron’s thighs. God, he’s so—Aaron feels so—Aaron lo—

“Whoa,” Kevin says, and that’s all the warning Aaron gets before Kevin slips, his arms giving way and Kevin sinking below the water.

Aaron doesn’t even hesitate. He immediately pushes himself off the pier, barely noting the shock of cold from the water getting to the rest of his body instead of just his legs. He dives under, grabbing around him, until he can feel Kevin’s skin.

When he surfaces, Kevin’s there too.

“I’m okay,” Kevin says. “Like, I was all good. It just took me by surprise.” He glances ruefully at his arms. “I was more tired than I thought.”

Aaron’s heart is still going a hundred miles a minute. “Not as equipped as your merman counterpart, huh?” he manages to say.

Kevin looks at him. He must hear it in Aaron’s voice, because he doesn’t make the indignant noise he usually would. “Guess not,” he says instead, then smiles, slow and quiet and sweet. It’s the one he only brings out sometimes, one Aaron’s never seen aimed at anyone else. It makes Aaron’s chest hurt, even more than his heart beating itself against his ribcage.

“You’re wet,” Kevin says, frowning.

“Very observant,” Aaron says. “That happens when you get into water.”

“You got wet for me,” Kevin says. Aaron wants to ask if exhausting his arms also had a follow-on effect to his brain, but then Kevin comes even closer, the water rippling around his skin. His body heat is more noticeable now, warming Aaron’s skin until it prickles with the temperature difference.

“I’ve done a lot of things for you,” Aaron says, too honest. “You’re really annoying like that.”

Kevin grins. They’ve floated beneath the pier now, and it feels – echo-y. The ocean is huge, the night sky even more expansive, the sand of the shore going for miles and miles, but here, beneath the pier, it’s like the world is just them, treading water and their body heat bleeding together and Kevin looking at him, and Aaron looking back.

When Kevin moves forward to kiss him, Aaron doesn’t even complain about his clammy skin or wet hair or any of the thousands of reasons that kissing when wet sucks. It doesn’t matter, really. Not when it’s Kevin. It makes up for it, he guesses.

So when Kevin presses their lips together, Aaron just keeps treading water, and kisses him back.

#kevaaron #kevin day #aaron minyard #aftg #aftg fic #jane writes sometimes #jane ficlets #i realised i need a new tag in case someone doesn’t want to scroll through the microfics too #jane kevaaron #jane kvar ficlets

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everlasting-rainfall · 5 months ago

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Hay so I got a question, you see I just read your one shot on yandere imu and I have one question what if the reader tries to kill themselves to get away from imu what would happen then? Also make sure you take care of yourself and drink plenty of water and food stay healthy too many people don't

Unknown anon

Hey! Thanks for the ask, Unknown Anon!! And thank you for reminding me to drink water and eat food because I don’t have the best memory

Also thanks for sending in an ask about Imu! I really do enjoy writing for characters who have done truly awful things though (as long as the awful things aren’t absolutely disgusting…), something about it is just fun.

Anywho, that’s enough out of me! Let’s get into your ask, shall we?

Real quick as well, I probably didn’t do the best job with this so I sincerely apologize if it’s bad.

BEWARE SPOILERS

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL-!

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

SUICIDE, SELF HARM, Imu being Imu, Isolation, Immortality, Rainfall Probably being Incorrect about Things, Death, Bathing Together, Being Watched While You Change, Being Locked Up, SPOILERS

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL-!

So I honestly truly believe that if you were to ever try to take your own life then the key word would probably be try. I don’t think that you’d be able to completely take your own life.

Severely injure yourself? Yeah, but not kill yourself…

With the way that all five Gorosei have regeneration abilities, I assume that unless it’s something related to their Devil Fruits (which it probably is, and I’m just forgetting or not realizing) then I would assume that maybe it’s a power granted by Imu?

Because all five of them being able to teleport, communicate long distances with telepathy, regenerate, and seemingly be immortal. I don’t think I can accept that all of that comes from Devil Fruits.

I have to assume that some of that comes from like Imu granting them these powers or something like that…

So if that is indeed the case then Imu might have given you one of these abilities too just to ensure that they would never lose you. You belong to them after all, and they aren’t going to allow death to take you.

No matter how much you might want to get away from them.

Imu might not even bat an eye when you try to end yourself in that case. It probably does hurt them to see you trying so desperately to get away from your loving partner so much, but you’d never know that.

They know that you’re not gonna be able to get away from then so there’s no purpose in trying to stop you. That is unless you get too insistent or brutal about your attempts.

That’s when Imu will have enough, you won’t be thrown into a cell and left there until you stop. However Imu will have anything that you could use to harm yourself removed from the area until you finally stop or show signs of improvement.

Keep trying though even after things have been removed? Imu’s eventually gonna have enough, and it’s back to the cell where you stayed locked up until you learn your lesson after trying to kill them… It’s for your own good in their opinion…

Now in the event that Imu didn’t or wasn’t able to give you regenerative or immortal abilities? I still don’t see you being able to succeed in what you’re doing…

You’d be able to severely injure yourself, sure and probably almost die. But you’d find yourself waking up back in your bed with medical equipment attached to you, and your injuries stitched shut.

Imu might even be sitting by your bedside doing… whatever it is that Imu does to pass the time… Reading? Knitting? Napping? Making Plans for Something? Who knows, but you might find Imu sitting there

After an event like that, Imu is going to keep an intensely close eye on you… Whatever you’re doing, Imu is there…

Are you reading? Imu’s now sitting next to you looking at the pages of your book… Are you taking a bath? So is Imu, move over… Getting changed? Imu’s in the doorway just staring at you… Going to sleep? Imu’s in bed with you even if they aren’t sleeping…

Imu can’t trust you to be on your own after something like that… What if they had lost you? Imu isn’t risking anything like that…

They don’t care how much this might irritate or frighten you… You belong to them, dammit and if keeping you means doing all of that? Then so be it…

Imu will keep this up for as long as they feel it’s necessary until they feel like they can allow you to be on your own again…

This also might be the time when Imu might also be the most lenient with you as well. Don’t get them wrong though, you still can’t leave or talk to anyone who Imu doesn’t approve of…

But let’s say that you wind up mentioning at one point about something that might help to improve your mental health. Like something you lost when Imu took you, you mention it?

A few days later or even the next day, there it is…

Also Imu would allow you to talk to a therapist, but that would require speaking to someone that Imu probably doesn’t approve of…

So unless one of the Gorosei can act as a therapist, or Imu gets really desperate then you probably aren't seeing one… And with the second case, the therapist would be killed as soon as they had finished their work with you…

Not in a “Our sessions over” and then they’re shot sorta way, but more like “Dear *Insert Name*, I do believe that we’ve made all the progress that we can… I wish you the best…” and then they’re escorted out and killed…

#minors dni #the rain talks back #yandere one piece #reader insert #read the trigger warnings #yandere #yandere imu

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keiriiz · 9 months ago

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HxH as Wizards!

(Main 4 + Phantom Troupe)

Finally getting around to doing these! This is huge nostalgia indulgent for me as I’ll be using Wizard101 as a reference for classes and types. Though don’t worry if you never played the game, you should be able to understand either way.

I’ll be keeping things short as there are many characters to get through!

Gon

✥ He is a Fire wizard to me. Though focuses on one time hits rather than damage over time spells.

✥ Always the team hitter but he might die before he gets to deal damage because he forgets to watch his health.

✥ For his “wand” or let’s say what he channels magic from, he wears Gauntlets!

Killua

✥ Based off his Nen ability you’d think I’d go with Storm because “lightning” but he is in fact an Ice wizard!

✥ Does his best to tank enemy spells for Gon but he’s rarely targeted.

✥ Killua would use a ton of stun spells.

✥ He conducts his magical energy through a typical Wand, though it’s some high class shit.

Kurapika

✥ I’m going solely off the colors and aesthetic for Kurapika and I say he is a Myth wizard!

✥ Given in a team with the main 4, he would be second hitter.

✥ Despite being Myth I feel like he wouldn’t do a lot with summoning/controlling minions and focus his energy on other spells.

✥ To be honest he looks like he’d own a Staff so that’s that.

Leorio

✥ Very obviously Life wizard right here.

✥ He almost has no offensive spells in his deck as he puts all his energy into healing.

✥ Only attack he has is his “wand attack” because he channels his magic through a Dagger.

Chrollo

✥ This man is so obviously a Death wizard it would be a crime to say anything else. Literally stealing other’s life for himself.

✥ Instead of mainly focusing on spells, I feel like he would really like Potion making.

✥ Undead creatures have a natural liking to him.

✥ I really want to say he’d channel his magic through a Spellbook but please just imagine this man with a Staff made from rotting/dead wood paired with a big traditional witch hat and tell me it’s not perfect.

Nobunaga

✥ Hear me out, he’s a semi-weak Storm wizard.

✥ It’s not that I think his spells Fizzle a lot or anything, he’s just not a big hitter. Like how in canon he’s an Enhancer but not physically all that strong!

✥ He would have a normal Wand to conduct his energy.

Feitan

✥ We have another Death wizard over here.

✥ I feel like he would constantly hunt Spellements to make his offensive spells more “painful”.

✥ Death is a great class for all categories and I feel Feitan definitely focuses on the offensive aspect where as Chrollo puts more focus on the defensive side.

✥ He channels his magic through a Sword.

Machi

✥ She’s a Life wizard however you wouldn’t know that at first glance.

✥ Machi carries majority damage dealing spells and a few heals.

✥ She is big into crafting and probably made most of the Troupe’s attire/armor.

✥ I don’t know why but she gives me dainty Wand vibes.

Hisoka

✥ Ok a lot of people might not agree with me here, but he’s a Storm wizard. Think of the gambling aspect that comes with never knowing if your spells will hit or not.

✥ I feel like he would teach himself some Fire spells to trick people what his class is.

✥ I can’t explain it but I feel like he channels his magic through a small Crystal Ball.

Kalluto

✥ Listen, going off aesthetic and vibes, he’s a Life wizard.

✥ He uses a lot of spells to buff his team members and taunt enemies but doesn’t do a lot of healing either.

✥ I saw concept art of a Fan as a Wizard101 wand so obviously he’d use that.

Phinks

✥ Based off Nen and strength, he’d be Fire. HOWEVER, I will not miss the opportunity to make this man a Balance wizard because of the Egyptian influence.

✥ He puts his heart and soul into mastering offensive Balance spells but the Troupe will jokingly ask him to buff them.

✥ If we do use Wizard101 worlds he’s so clearly from Krokotopia.

✥ I feel like he would conduct his magic through Gauntlets as well.

Shalnark

✥ Another painful obvious one here, he is a Myth wizard.

✥ He will summon great minions and have them do all the work while he relaxes. Literally if he does anything it’s to buff them.

✥ He actually knows a ton of spells from many classes but for the sole purpose of just saying he knows them and has no need to utilize them.

✥ He is a Spellbook type guy, just look at the official art on this post.

Franklin

✥ It takes me no time to look at this man and say he’s definitely Ice.

✥ He actually is a fairly good hitter though doesn’t get many chances to show it.

✥ I don’t know why but I feel like he’d channel his energy through a Hammer.

Shizuku

✥ I honestly wasn’t sure to put her as but I think Death is our best bet.

✥ I don’t think she’d utilize her class to the fullest. Like she’ll have some support/defensive spells and just normal damage spells. Not drain spells that actually steal enemies’ life and replenish her own.

✥ I’m going to be very specific here and say she channels magic through a Glaive.

Pakunoda

✥ She is such an Ice wizard to me it’s insane.

✥ Ok so even though Franklin, the other Ice of the Troupe is built for the job, I’m placing Paku as the tank. Don’t judge a book by its cover type thing.

✥ I feel like she would also be a master in taught spells.

✥ Basic but I feel like she would use a Bow and Arrow.

Bonolenov

✥ Here we have the most conventional Balance wizard in the Troupe.

✥ This man actually fits into his support role and buffs other members and traps enemies like a pro.

✥ I have no idea why but he also reads as a Crystal Ball user.

Uvogin

✥ This man his an undoubtedly a Storm wizard.

✥ Obviously the Troupe’s heaviest hitter and he doesn’t take crazy long to work up a good attack.

✥ A piece of his soul dies every time one of his spells fizzle and he has to deal with Nobunaga and Phinks teasing (he’s yelling back and not letting it show).

✥ Taking this right from canon but he conducts energy from a big Club.

Illumi

✥ Ok so he’s a Myth wizard BUT I feel like he spends all of his time learning Moon spells. Which for those who don’t know allow you to morph into enemies.

✥ Has fairly ok minions when he actually uses them.

✥ I feel like he’d channels magic through a pair of Shuriken.

Kortopi

✥ Ok I genuinely don’t know if I would place this child as a Balance or Life wizard. I love Kortopi but he has so little character it’s hard to write for.

✥ I know in the art he has a big staff but I get Spellbook vibes.

Kastiel

✥ Not just off his Nen ability, but also off traits of the game he is undoubtedly a Fire wizard.

✥ He secretly wishes he was Storm for the aesthetic and bigger power potential.

✥ He uses damage over time spells to the best utility and often the enemy is dead way before they run out.

✥ He conducts his magic through dual Kukri Knives.

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hannahbarberra162 · 5 months ago

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Okay but what if BB Reader actually had A devil fruit? A blood related Devil fruit, cause listen the first time the draw and tests would have worked because they were there willingly to get their ankle checked but after that they are able to control if their blood gets drawn or not, they have that ability, even if they get an iv that dosen’t mean blood can be drawn unless they allow it. Now what would happen then? What would Marco do in this scenario?

Ooh paramecia blood blood fruit. I'm gonna tweak your scenario a little (sorry) for fun. I also don't think this answers your question lol. I think that Marco would lose patience for your foolishness quickly and punish you - either physically or psychologically. If you really persisted, I think you're looking at a long walk off a short plank (if it's Bad Marco).

Sharp talons dug into your throat as you looked into the face of one of the most infamous pirates on the Grand Line. You told your Captain you thought it was a bad idea to try to raid the Moby Jr, that even the smaller boat would have a stronger crew than your own. You Craptain (as you sometimes called him) ignored your suggestion and fired the cannons at the other vessel. So, you had to fight. And your crew lasted all of a minute and a half before you were destroyed. At least you’d have the honor of being killed by Marco The Phoenix, that was kind of a cool way to die. You didn’t close your eyes, wanting to face your death head on. Marco surveyed your body, tilting his head.

“Why aren’t you bleeding yoi?” You had eaten the Blood Blood fruit, which was alright. It wasn’t the strongest devil fruit, but it gave you some power. You could completely control your own blood, and manipulate the blood of others if you were able to touch them and they had an open wound. The last component made it not the best for offensive fighting, which is why you tended to use your own.

“D-devil fruit, I can control blood” you coughed out, trying to shrug. Oh, your shoulder was shattered. Well, you’d be dying soon anyway. Marco’s eyes narrowed.

“Your own or someone else’s?”

“Both. Mostly mine.” Marco smiled but it felt like a killing blow.

“What an interesting turn of events for both of us.” The talon gripping your neck released, instead gripping you roughly around the middle. Marco flew off the deck, with you hanging from his talons like a rag doll. Your body was wrecked - you couldn’t heal yourself, just control your blood. Marco dumped you onto the deck of the Moby Jr. You grunted, cradling your side where you could feel your broken ribs. You were barely conscious, holding on by a thread.

“What are the parameters of your devil fruit?” Marco asked, his talon holding your slumping body upright against the side of the deck.

“Um, I can make any type of blood, heal blood, create more blood using my own, fight with it, I think that’s it.” You thought there was more, but your vision was tunneling. You hoped Marco killed you soon, you didn’t want it dragged out. Someone handed Marco handcuffs, which were placed around your wrists. Instantly, you knew they were sea stone, the last remnants of your energy sapped from you. Marco crouched over you, gripping your hair and pulling it until you looked at him.

“Heal blood…you’re in luck. You’re not dying today.” Marco turned to someone else as your eyes shut. “Take them to the infirmary, don’t remove the cuffs. Paramecia type yoi. We have a new pet.”

#blood bag au #marco op

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uwuyangeppie · 3 months ago

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I just had the most deranged and out of pocket thought and I need to tell someone so hear me out.

So imagine yan!Gepard right he fell in love bla bla bla ok now what if when we got kidnapped we were studying something similar to mara (oe js Mara itself) how to make someone immortal so we start to study gepard. (Yk his constellation thing that makes him be able to live again) And eventually we tell him “oh yeah I just wanted to try some stuff out on you if it’s ok” and gepard being his ol reliable self says yes and it’s basically us killing him over and over and then injecting him with like the marastrucks blood or smth to keep him alive basically using him as a test subject and by the time he realizes the truth and that we don’t actually love him we were just manipulating him into letting us use him for tests and research it’s already too late. RAAAAAAHHhHH

LOL

i actually love this idea lol but i’m not creative enough to come up with something that’s mara-like so mara it is :3

you swear to the preservation, you will get nous to gaze upon you.

haha, look. you’re speaking like them now.

truthfully, you’re not even remotely interested in the preservation. a researcher from the xianzhou-luofu, you’d run into the astral express at the same time as the mara disaster went down, and asked if they could drop you off somewhere.

you’d ended up finding about gepard landau and his special abilities, and so now you’re here, on belobog, researching. you know about mara. now you can learn about whatever gepard has going on too- it can’t just be iron will. there’s something else going on there.

you WILL find out the secrets to immortality, and nous will cast THEIR gaze upon you, and then you can join the genius society and do other genius things. you’re already accomplished in many other fields- this should be your breakthrough!

gepard is such an interesting case. you can’t help but adore him. you’ve never met a more willing test subject. as long as you keep him happy with a couple of platitudes (for example, “i love you”) and a few kisses, he’ll pretty much do whatever you want. he’s definitely not normal, but someone else will have to research that. that’s below someone who would be in the genius society.

off he goes to the killing fields! goodbye geppie! you’ll miss him! come back soon! mwah! and when he comes back, you’ll kill him then, too. he will die and die again and again, and you’ll inject him with some complicated serum mix of abundance and preservation, and wow! up he gets!

huh? no, no, it’s fine. he loves it. the ethics might be a bit questionable, but he’ll do anything if it keeps you happy, because you make him happy too.

the guards say he seems more resilient. even when he goes down, he comes back up, repeatedly, more times than he used to. oh? so is it working? you decide to give him a bit of extra love as a reward.

one day, many years after you’ve arrived on belobog, you realise he hasn’t sprouted any grey hairs. not a one. you rifle through his hair (he takes it as a sign of affection- aeons, he makes this so easy), to find that it’s all blond.

all…?

you haven’t felt nous’ gaze on you yet. perhaps you need to take the final step and inject it into yourself.

the day you plan to do it, though, goes a little haywire. you go out shopping and come back to discover gepard holding your notepad full of research notes. he looks very upset.

“what’s this, darling?”

“my notepad,” you say carefully, well aware of the strength difference between the two of you.

“yes, but what’s all these notes…?” he seems lost. you decide to help him along a little.

“i think you already know, gepard.” you drop the nickname. you’ve done what you came here to do- but the heartbroken look on his face makes you a little sad yourself.

“did it- did any of it mean anything to you?”

he goes back to the book, flipping through pages. carefully avoiding him, you slide over to a little wooden box, and take out its contents. the probably-immortality serum.

“no,” you answer calmly, sticking the needle into your arm and injecting the liquid into your body. for a moment, there’s nothing. and then, like a ray of sun-

nous has set THEIR gaze upon you.

alas, THEY’RE not they only one. gepard has also set his eyes on you, but no longer the warm ones that you’re used to. he sets his jaw, a serious frown on his face.

well, it’s nothing a genius can’t solve.

right?

#final boss gepard #nous will not save you lol THEY’RE too busy with maths n stuff #imagine losing to immortal gepard #esp when you’re immortal #stuck with a yandere. forever #gepard landau x reader #gepard x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #yandere gepard #yandere gepard x reader #asked and answered #queuwued #having uwu in the handle was so smart

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sutheworld · 6 months ago

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I would like to ask you, can you tell me exactly what my problem is? I feel as if manifestation does not suit me. The more I stress, the worse it gets. I feel as if I am doing everything wrong and I cannot imagine. My fears control me. I fear that I will not be able to manifest my desires and my life will remain as it is. My health is getting worse every day and I am afraid of losing my mother. I am a failure in everything these days. I feel as if my life is meaningless and there is no point in living because I cannot use my strength and believe in myself. The solution is in my hands, but I cannot do anything. I do not know what is happening to me. But I don't want to die like this, I don't want to let my ability to change my life go like this, but I can't use it and nothing works for me. Everyone tells me to work on your self-concept, but even my self-concept and I find it difficult to work on it. I'm very, very sorry, but I don't want to waste more years. Likewise, I have been in this community for 3 years and until now I have not been able to manifest even a small thing even though I know everything

Did you suffer as much as I did in the beginning, or was it just me, and what did you do to succeed in the end?

Well i could write you one of those how to manifest texts now but it seems like you’ve already read a lot of them.

I think what will help you is thinking that you’re doing well right now. It seems like you tried a lot of things and like you affirm too, but then you tell yourself “i’m doing something wrong, this feels wrong, i must be doing something really bad”. Which obviously makes you feel like you’re doing something wrong 🤷‍♀️ so you come back to tumblr.

Don’t be so pessimistic, why see everything from the negative side and worry and worry and worry… The possibility of you doing the method right and of you being on the right track is higher and sometimes just as high as the possibility of you doing something wrong. But you still only look at the chances of you doing it wrong, that’s all you care for. In reality when you affirm there’s a 100% chance you’re on the right track and have it manifested right now. However, you still choose to make it 99% because you feel like there’s always gotta be something wrong and fishy.

Even if the chance of you failing is 50% and of you winning is also 50%, you choose to only look at the 50% failing possibility.

Why are you only looking at the failing side??? That’s not logical it’s not more possible than the winning side…. and only focusing on the 50% loosing possibility makes you feel miserable.

Believing in the 50% winning is free. It doesn’t cost you anything, it isn’t hard either it’s as easy as sticking to the other 50%.

Stop making your life harder by only believing in bad things. The possibility of good things happening, of you doing well, is literally JUST AS HIGH. Plus, when you affirm the possibility of you doing something wrong/failing is fully eliminated, no matter what happens. No matter what contradicting thoughts follow your affirmation, what occurs on your 3D and whatever. You are doing it right, you have already manifested it. Stick to being happy 😭😭😭 why be saaadd

So now i want you to affirm something, like just something positive once or twice is enough. And you’re done! You’re doing it right. For the rest of the day you can feel fully content.

It would work like this if you’d affirm something bad too, you say it once or twice and then your day is ruined. That’s super easy to do, right? All day long you’ll only think of those negative thoughts and worry. That’s perfect training for my current manifestation recommendation!

Affirm, and let those thoughts have the same impact on you as your negative thoughts usually have. Keep feeling happy because you just did something hella right. Ideally the thoughts that just guaranteed your manifestation will keep ringing in your mind, just like your worries would usually do. Like it’s really that easy, just be happy. There’s nothing to worry about, you can now leave tumblr too, as you’re doing everything right.

There’s actually no need for you to ask me for advice. Honestly, you’ve mastered manifestation, it’s just affirm and be satisfied with your method. You are doing super good, no need to pursue further manifestation advice. Everybody has the 100% manifestation guarantee as long as they affirm/apply some manifestation method.

—————- to answer your additional questions:

I like to act like a white male in his thirties, who always believes that everything he does is right. So somehow the start of my manifestation journey was kinda where i peaked. It was the best time of my life, i was so happy to have discovered law of assumption and i tried to apply it as much as i can.

But after that i of course struggled to keep my happy spirit alive at times. It wasn’t easy to always stay on the manifestation track and keep my thoughts clean. Humans usually all live similar lives and share similar experiences, as a human there’s always somebody who is going trough the same experience as you. You’re never alone.

What helps me when i don’t know how to approach a manifestation is identifying my problem. Most of the time the problem is a pessimistic attitude, just me being stressed. So i try to remind myself that i don’t have anything to be stressed about, and that it’s okay to not have anything to be stressed about, because just because my friends are stressed doesn’t mean i have to be stressed too.

I’m aware that i know very well how to manifest, me lacking knowledge can never be the problem here. It’s me thinking i’ll fail no matter how hard i try. I can get rid of that mindset with logical thinking, with the idea i’ve tried to explain to you above: Me doing it right is more probable and sometimes just as possible as me doing it wrong, so why hurt myself by denying my chances of success. When they are higher than my chances of failure.

Even if the possibility of failure is 99%, i’ll believe in that 1% of possible success with my whole soul and being.

That’s how i survive. I just assume that i’m doing it well.

Hope this made sense 😭😭😭 stay happy princess!!

#ask #law of assumption

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kaigarax · 10 months ago

Text

Take 294

Armin Arlet x Reader

Quote: "Fall in love because it's illogical."

My Dearest,

I used to think that I would want the person I loved to love me in return. That I would want them to remember my name. I’ve found that simply getting to know you is enough for me.

Yours Truly

---

Love, to Armin Arlert, is the result of multiple overlapping desires that revolve around a single person. It’s the want to support; the impulse to protect; the urge for closeness; the need for affection; and most of all, love is trust. Naturally, falling in love is the simple accumulation of all these things at once.

---

Want - Attack on Trost

“Once the Titans inside of the storeroom are killed we’ll be able to refuel and make it over the wall and get out of Trost. Does… that sound like a good plan?”

Armin waited with baited breath as silent looks were exchanged around the room. He couldn’t seem to keep his gaze from bouncing around the room. Would the peers he trained alongside agree with his plan?

Nervous. Jumpy. Quiet.

Will they put their lives on the line just because he suggested they do so?

Scared. Distressed. Still.

Were they really willing to die just because he asked them to?

Terrified. Apprehensive.

Calm.

As Armin’s eyes jumped from one person to the next, there was one who he found himself returning to again and again. Someone whose name was commonly known, but not much known of them; whose features weren’t immediately eye-catching or whose personality wasn’t immediately magnetic. Someone who, before today, Armin had hardly noticed before.

He wondered how he hadn’t noticed you until today.

“Why am I such an integral part of the plan?”

A single voice among the crowd questioned him. You questioned him. You questioned whether you were the right person to strike down a Titan when there were others whose skills ranked higher than your own.

Whispers circulated through the stiffness of the room. Why had Armin chosen you?

You, who hadn’t ranked among the top ten; who wasn’t a well known face and was a standoffish girl. A girl who questioned her own abilities even now. Why you?

While most probably thought your gaze cold, Armin felt it was something more akin to curiosity. Your eyes questioned if Armin would stick to his resolve. In a moment like this, most wouldn’t have thought you much different from the girl you’d been the past two years. Nothing Armin knew about you before this moment would’ve led him to this choice, but right now, things were different.

You were different.

“Because…” He wished his voice wasn’t so shaky. “I can’t put my finger on it, but I know you’re the right person for the job.”

“And if I fail?”

It wasn’t logical, not in the slightest, but some part of Armin just knew. So in that moment of uncertainty, not a part of Armin faltered as he answered:

“You won’t.”

---

Impulse - Plans to Raid Stohess

Torches lined the wall of the Scout’s mess hall, though only a few of them were lit. It was just enough that Armin could read the scattered papers in front of him.

The 57th Expedition outside of the walls had revealed another intelligent Titan.

This was a mission to investigate and capture whoever was inside of it.

As the commander went over the plan to confront the intelligent Titan’s user, Armin was phasing in and out of the conversation. He had been the one to realise the Titan’s intelligence. He had been the one to identify it. He was the one who brought its identity to the commander in the first place! So then why was he so unsure of himself?

Was it because it didn’t feel real? Because the things Armin thought he knew were actively being challenged? Was it really possible that Armin knew and trained alongside someone was a traitor all along? He didn’t want to believe it, even when the evidence was staring at him right in the face.

“There was someone who the target was familiar with, correct? (Y/n) (L/n)?”

Armin’s eyes suddenly shot up when he heard your name.

He wondered why, of all people, your name was being brought up. As far as he had known, you were never someone who tried to be anything more than what you were. Not many people were familiar with your name before that day in Trost. Even now, bringing you up in conversation felt like a task in and of itself. Still, you continued to linger in the back of Armin’s mind and he couldn’t but wonder why.

“(Y/n) (L/n)?” Armin repeated.

Was it out of disbelief, or was there something in the back of his mind that made you appear to be something you weren’t?

“She’s…”

Back in Trost, you had proved Armin right. Of all the things Armin suggested, your inclusion was the only thing he hadn’t been able to justify with logic. At the same time, your inclusion was the only thing he had been certain about.

You were the right call.

You were a gut choice decision.

So once again, Armin would trust the quiet voice in the back of his head.

“No. She and the target have nothing to do with each other.”

---

Urge - Post Traitor Defection

The betrayal of three former 104th Cadet Corps brings the total number of traitors up to four. The news had shaken Armin and his friends to their core. People who he had once considered allies were suddenly his enemies and he didn’t know how to feel about it. Although, who in their right mind would know how to feel about something like this?

Armin was in turmoil - not because his friends betrayed him, but because he had seen it coming. He wished things hadn’t ended up this way. He wished things could’ve been simpler, or that it was someone else who realised it before he did. But alas, these were wishes that would never come true. No matter what he did, nothing would make these wishes come true - not even if he lived his entire life over again.

Underneath the stars is where Armin currently found himself.

The air outside was cold - particularly cold for a midsummer’s night. As Armin breathed in the cool air, he became startled by another's appearance.

It was you again.

“(Y/n)?”

You turned your head to meet Armin’s curious gaze. He’d never noticed it before, but you were quite pretty. Perhaps that was the reason why Armin suddenly felt nervous. After all, out here it was just you, him, and the silence of the night.

“Armin…” You called his name casually and the smile you wore was soft. If the boy hadn’t known any better, he would’ve thought the two of you good friends. “You’re up late. Are you alright?”

“Huh?” Armin is taken aback for a moment. It takes him longer than he realises to finally formulate his reply. “Oh… I suppose I could ask you the same thing.”

You smile. “Yes, I suppose you could, but you won’t.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because I know you.”

“You know me?” Armin’s eyes narrow in on you, but it’s like you don’t even notice it. You continue to smile and talk as though you’ve heard it all before.

“I know that you’re the reason why I’ve been assigned to this mission.”

Ah yes. Yet another of Armin’s unexplainable gut decisions. When the commander had sent Armin and his friends to lay low, Armin had somehow managed to drag you along with them. He wasn’t sure why, but he did. A part of him felt bad for involving you like this, especially since you likely knew nothing of the traitors up until recently. And yet, here you were.

Here because Armin wanted you to be here.

How uncharacteristically selfish of him.

“You don’t hate me, do you?” The words slip from Armin’s mouth, leaving him shocked and speechless.

Despite this, you chuckle to yourself. Something crosses your eyes for a moment, but it’s so short lived that Armin doesn’t get a chance to analyze it. Instead, the boy watches as you gently pat the spot on the ground beside you.

He’s taken a seat before he can even wonder why.

As the blonde boy sits beside you, he has to fight the urge to lean in toward you. Not because he wants to, but because you were so warm. It’s a natural instinct to want to be warm, is it not?

“Perhaps I do, perhaps I don’t. Who’s to say?”

Armin gives you a look. “If not you, then who?”

“A good question, but not one that needs to be answered right now. Wouldn’t you agree?” Before Armin can manage a response, you lean in toward the boy and lean your shoulder against his own.

You’re much warmer than he thought you’d be.

It’s nice.

Even if her question didn’t make sense; even if logic could not be applied to the things that you’ve said, Armin found himself smiling as he responded.

“I guess I do.”

---

Need - In the Midst of a Coup D'etat

It’s sickening.

Armin finds himself sickening.

He took another human’s life. Not the life of a Titan or a Titan Shifter, a human. He wanted to tell himself that it was either him or them; that he had to choose between saving his comrades or watching them die.

Both were equally horrible, and yet, he was the one to pull the trigger.

Armin was the one who didn’t hesitate.

It’s sickening.

He’s sickening.

“Armin?” It’s you again. You approach him slowly - cautiously, even.

He thinks it’s only right that you be the one to judge him in a state like this. He was the one who dragged you into this mess. If it wasn’t for him you wouldn’t be in this predicament. If it wasn’t for him, you-

Your hand is warm against Armin’s shoulder. So warm and gentle. It causes the boy to snap out of his thoughts and into the moment.

“It never gets easier.” Your voice is low, practically a whisper. He doesn’t realise it, but Armin is leaning toward you to better make out your words.

“What do you mean?”

“Taking a human life… No matter who it is, no matter how many times you do it, no matter the reason it’s done, it never gets easier. I don’t think it’s supposed to. You’re killing another human being, after all. All of their hopes and dreams. Their desires and their bonds. You steal all of it in the blink of an eye. So of course it’ll never get easier.”

“You say that as if you’ve killed before…”

“Perhaps I have. Perhaps I haven’t.” Your smile is soft and the look in your eyes is that of understanding. But why? Armin doesn’t understand it. He doesn’t understand you.

In a moment of genuine curiosity, Armin queries “Have you?”

“Who knows?” You smile a sad smile. “But it feels like I have. Would you hate me if I did?”

“I think circumstances make all the difference.”

“So if I never told you why I killed someone, you’d hate me?”

“I…” Armin stops himself. Before today he would’ve said yes in a heartbeat, but after taking a life himself? Things weren’t so cut and dry. Perhaps they never were, or perhaps they still are. Still, Armin hesitates. “I don’t think you’re someone who would kill without a good reason.”

You tilt your head curiously. “Why not?”

Before he can understand why, Armin has his hand on top of yours. At first it’s embarrassing, but soon it feels natural.

You ask Armin why he trusts you, and he asks himself the same question.

It’s not something Armin can explain away with logic. Just as it is whenever it comes to you, his words and actions are but a gut feeling.

“Because of how much you value life.”

---

Trust - The Moment of Clarity

It’s been several weeks since the monarchy was overthrown and a rightful ruler was put into place. Everything had happened so quickly that it left even the likes of Armin in a daze.

Right now, Armin was bringing supplies into the Survey Corps base. Many new people had been brought over by a certain Commander’s speech so there were many new faces around. It was kind of difficult for Armin to keep track of everything and everyone, let alone the tasks he was supposed to take care of.

The sun was beginning to set in the horizon. As Armin glanced out toward the field, he caught sight of someone standing alone.

It was you.

Of course it was you.

Just as he always does whenever it comes to you, Armin let himself wander over to where you were standing. Even as he reached your side, your eyes never left the horizon.

“The expedition to Shiganshina begins tomorrow night.” You speak so casually that in Armin’s opinion, it’s as if you were speaking to no one at all.

A simple “Yeah” is all Armin manages to reply.

A rush of wind sweeps past the two of you. The evening breeze is pleasant against Armin’s face. It nearly catches him off guard when you lean your shoulder against his own. “How are you feeling about it?”

“To be completely honest, it’s both terrifying and thrilling at the same time.”

You hum curiously to yourself. “Thrilling? How so?”

“Well… the idea of taking a win over the enemies we’ve fought against for so long… it’s enough to get anyone excited, isn’t it?”

“Is that so? You don’t seem particularly excited.” You point out, finally turning your eyes to meet Armin’s own. He’s a lot closer to you than he realised. A gentle smile adorns your lips. It’s what Armin has come to expect from you at this point, yet it still makes his heart race.

“Even if things go according to plan, there’s no way we won’t run into them again. It’s only a matter of time. Clashing with them is inevitable.”

“I didn’t realise you thought about things in such a way. Then again, I suppose you’ve always been a deeper thinker than anyone gives you credit for - even when you’re making plans from the seat of your pants.”

“What do you mean?”

“Back in Trost… during the 57th expedition… when we were fighting against the Military Police… need I say more?” You give a short laugh and Armin can only imagine that it has something to do with the look on his face. “It’s not a bad thing. A lot of good can come from trusting your instincts.”

“Even if my instincts always seem to get you involved?”

“I don’t mind.”

“You don’t?”

“Not if it’s you who decides it.”

“But… Why?”

“Because I trust you. Do you not trust yourself the same way you trust me?”

There it is again - a glint of curiosity peeking out from beneath your calm exterior.

Just as always, you captivated and confused Armin at the same time. It was enough to make the boy wish that he had gotten to know you sooner. Perhaps then, things between the two of you would be different. Perhaps he wouldn’t be afraid to call himself your friend. Perhaps he might even have the courage to try being more.

Yet despite only getting to know you recently, that wasn’t the case. Armin does want to be your friend. He does want to be something more.

For once in his life there was something that didn’t align with what Armin considered logical. He didn’t know for sure if he was going to act on his own desires, but he decided that none of that mattered right now.

Because right now, no matter how brief this moment was, she was his.

Fall in love because it’s illogical.

---

Him: With everything I am.

#attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin x reader #armin arlet x reader #100 ways to fall in love

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