#˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꒰꒰ “𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒” ꒱꒱

[angel-selfshipper]

Doll was cradled against Hobie’s chest, its gloved fingers gripping the fabric of his vest like a lifeline. Hobie’s laugh—that gravelly laugh that made Doll's eldritch heart do flips inside it's ribcage—rumbled through his chest, vibrating through Doll’s own like the soft lullaby of a sleeping cat.

“Oi, you alright there, luv? You’re clingin’ to me jacket like I'm off to war...” Hobie chuckled as his calloused fingers thread through Doll's dark brown hair.

Doll whimpered softly, curling impossibly closer, as if trying to squish its way into his chest and take refuge in the space between his bones. “I-I don’t wanna hurt my Hobie,” it whispered, voice trembling like wind chimes in a particularly harsh storm.

“You’re just—just so perfect, and warm, and ALIVE in ways I'd never thought to know, and I want to squeeze you until the world itself explodes from the pressure, but I just can’t, I mustn’t really—what if I squish you like a tiny bug? What if I squeeze too hard and you pop like a balloon?!”

Hobie snorted, brushing a calloused thumb across the squishy skin of Doll’s flushed cheek. “Pop? Dollface, I’ve been smashed through brick walls and dropped from 20+ story buildings. I'm pretty sure I can handle a lil’ cuddle from my eldritch horror.” He grinned—that adorable little punk smirk that only Hobie seemed able to pull off...

“Come on then, give me a biiiiig squeeze! Let’s test your squishin' levels, yeah?”

Doll’s brown eyes blinked up at him, surprised, lips pursed into a soft little pout. “You promise you won’t die?”

“Promise,” he said, leaning down to press an incredibly love filled kiss to its temple. “Even if that did somehow happen, I'll just come back to haunt ya! It'd be proper romantic... The eldritch horror and its ghost~”

A soft relieved giggle escaped Doll’s lips as it gently flopped its face down against Hobie’s chest. “Don’t be so silly, Hobie!!!”

Doll paused for a few more second before teasingly whispering, “It would obviously be the punk ghost and his eldritch~”

FUN FACT — Doll actually talks different when speaking to others vs when speaking to Hobie (That's why it's answers were so sophisticated in the ask game and with Hobie it's more playful)

[angel-selfshipper]

“𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐖𝐄𝐁”

CONTENT WARNINGS — Age gap, drinking, dubious consent, grooming, heavy flirting, implied sexual // romantic tension, jealousy, manipulation, possessiveness, power imbalance, sibling incest, slight aggression, toxic relationships, underage

The party was a blur of too bright lights and base you could feel deep within in your bones. Bodies swayed sensually, grinding together in sinful desire.

Michelangelo Morales, just like at all the parties he dragged his poor little brother to, was at the center of it all—his charismatic personality making people swoon over him left and right.

His body was propped up against the incredibly overcrowded bar as though being surrounded by all these people was second nature. His lanky form was draped in a cropped black and red Spider Man hoodie that barely covered his stomach along with a pair of ripped jeans that hugged his thighs just right.

A lopsided smirk tugged at the corner of his lips—a warning, a promise. As for the poor bastard Michelangelo had chosen to be his toy for tonight? He was already eating out of the palm of his hand.

Not that any of that really mattered in the long run.

Michelangelo wasn’t flirting because he “cared” or happened to find this random guy attractive… He didn’t give a single fuck about him, honestly. This act was all for someone else—someone who was watching him from the other side of the bar like a hunter stalking its prey: fists clenched, jaw tight, and looking like he was one second away from snapping.

Miles Gonzalo Morales...

His baby brother. His absolute sweetheart. His whole fucking world.

Michelangelo took an excruciatingly slow sip of his drink, letting a bit of his fruity cocktail spill past the corners of his lips before licking them—deliberate, teasing. He made sure Miles saw every flick of his tongue, every shallow breath, every calculated shift of his body. He knew his little brother like the back of his hand—he knew exactly which buttons to push without going too far.

“You’ve got real pretty lips~,” he purred, dragging his heavy gaze over the guy’s mouth with exaggerated interest. The poor thing—a college kid, someone much closer to Michelangelo’s age than Miles—turned bright red, stammering out something unintelligible that kind of sounded like a thank you. Michelangelo didn’t even bother catching his name.

Poor bastard would never amount to anything close to what Miles was in his eyes. He was just an extra toy to make his baby brother jealous.

And judging by the way those dark eyes narrowed in on his every move, it was working.

Michelangelo flicked his gaze toward Miles. Oh, was the poor boy absolutely pissed. Not just annoyed—no, this was full-blown, murderous rage simmering just beneath the surface of his dark brown skin.

Good.

“Y��know, I’d just looove to see what else you’ve got going on, babe!” Michelangelo continued with his bratty little act, his voice practically dripping with false interest. He leaned in, tilting his head to the side in such a way that let his dark hair fall against his shoulder... The poor college kid never stood a chance.

Michelangelo barely had time to savor the moment of flustered embarrassment before the small amount of space between him and the college boy disappeared in a rush of movement.

Miles was there.

The guy didn’t have any time to react before he was shoved aside like the background character he probably was. Michelangelo had one singular second to think he'd won before a rough grip closed around his wrist—so tight he swore it was going to bruise (wouldn’t be the first mark he’d gotten from Miles, but still).

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Miles hissed, his voice much lower than usual and so deliciously threatening that it sent a shiver up Michelangelo’s spine.

Michelangelo grinned, that lopsided, lazy smile he always wore when teasing his baby brother. “Flirting.”

Miles’ eyes narrowed with barely contained rage. “With who?”

Michelangelo teasingly walked his index and middle fingers up Miles’ arm, relishing the way his baby brother melted ever so slightly despite himself. “No one important.”

“That right?” Miles’ voice dropped an octave, dangerously quiet against the pounding music of the bar. “Didn’t look like ‘no one’ to me.”

Michelangelo exhaled a soft laugh, letting his hot breath ghost against Miles’ cheek. “Oh, hermanito,” he teased, “Don’t tell me you’re jealous~”

Miles’ grip tightened around the older boy’s wrist.

DING DING DING! Michelangelo just hit the jackpot of flustered little brothers~

Michelangelo leaned in, the tips of their distinctively similar noses practically touching. “That dumbass college kid? Didn’t give a single fuck about him.”

Miles let out a soft growl low in his throat, his free hand coming up to tug on the collar of Michelangelo's hoodie, pulling them down to his level and forcing them to make direct eye contact. “Then why on earth would you do it?”

"You really wanna know why I did it?" Michelangelo teased, his voice thick with something dark and wicked. His lips curled into a full smirk as he whispered, "Because I love watching you lose your mind over me."

Something in Miles SNAPPED.

One second, Michelangelo was basking in what he assumed was his own triumph—the next, he was being dragged through the club, past drunken bodies and blinding neon lights. Miles’ grip never loosened, his pulse pounding like a drum against Michelangelo’s skin.

Michelangelo barely had time to catch his breath before he was slammed against the brick wall of the alleyway, Miles’ forearm pressing tightly against his chest and pinning him in place.

“You think this shit is funny?” Miles seethed, his breath hot against Michelangelo’s face.

Michelangelo grinned, the pointedness of his sharp canines flashing in the dim light of the alleyway. “I do, actually—thank you for asking.”

Miles’ hands curled into the fabric of Michelangelo’s cropped hoodie, holding onto it like he was absolutely terrified to let go.

“You drive me fucking insane,” Miles muttered, looking up to meet Michelangelo’s eyes.

The older of the two boys leaned down, a cocky smirk on his face, his voice dropping into a soft whisper. “And you love it.”

A beat of silence.

Then—

Miles crahsed their mouths together in a kiss that was all passion and heat, completely desperate in a way neither of them would ever be able to say aloud.

Michelangelo melted!!!

His baby brother’s lips were soft, his touch warm against his skin, his unconditional love completely undeniable. He smirked against Miles’ plump lips, fingers threading into the tight curls at the back of his brother’s head, pulling him closer... closer... closer...

Possessive. Consuming. Needy.

Exactly how Michelangelo had conditioned him to be.

And Miles? He wouldn’t give it up for anything in the multiverse.

[angel-selfshipper]

"𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐈𝐄"

CONTENT WARNINGS — Eldritch horror, body horror, graphic violence, death, resurrection, religious themes (barely), emotional breakdowns, brief mourning, desperation, possessive // obsessive Love.

The world around them was burning down to the ground.

Flames similar to that of a million suns swirled like smoke through the collapsing buildings of Earth 138, curling through the air with the elegance of a dying revolution’s final breath.

Sirens wailed loudly off in the distance—far too late to matter. Bits of dark soot and rubble crunched beneath Doll’s shoes as it stumbled through the ruin of its lover’s latest battle, cradling Hobie Brown’s lanky body against its chest.

“No, no, no, no—” Doll whispered , the words sharp as a wind up music box being wound far past its limit... Its lacy white gloves were soaked an ugly crimson color... Hobie had bled and bled and just kept on bleeding...

And still—he smiled that annoyingly cocky smile that he just knew Doll loved so much. The absolute bastard... Even now he was smiling.

“Oi…” His voice was wet, wrong, the sound of lungs that were slowly being filled by their bodies' own blood. “Don’t go lookin' at me like that, dollface.”

“Stop talking,” Doll rasped, voice fraying at the edges like a beautiful lace blouse being chewed on by hundreds of moths. “Stop… breathing like that. You’re not supposed to breathe like that!”

“I told ya—m' not immortal.” Hobie’s hand reached up as his thumb brushed weakly along its porcelain cold skin, a ghost of his adoration still clinging to his touch even in his last moments. “Always knew I’d have to leave eventually…”

“NoNoNo, you’re not allowed to just leave me like this...” Doll rocked back and forth, knees sinking down deeper into the jagged edges of the shattered pavement, shadow curling around its form like spilled ink. Wrong... Twisting... Alive...

“You were always too soft for this,” he murmured, long lashes fluttering down in a way that Doll could almost pretend was just because he was going to sleep. “Didn’t deserve you.”

His body fell limp against Doll's arms, a breath escaping his soft lips—but no sign of a second one being inhaled back in.

The fire around them was quickly snuffed out like something much too large for the human mind to comprehend had blown it out.

Doll didn’t scream.

It simply stared down, its face blank of any human emotions, as if it was trying to convince itself that this was all some sort of wretched nightmare. Its human glamour began to crack, the beautiful mask of its chosen form rapidly slipping.

Then the air shifted ever so slightly... A soul began to rise from the limp body still clung tightly in Doll's arms.

The soul shimmered an absolutely stunning golden color, burning bright as the North Star even in his death. Hobie Brown's soul...

“No.” The words were not whispered as a prayer but spoken as a command.

Doll clutched his dead body tighter for a second longer, face contorted in something far too sharp to be simply grief. It gently pulled its blood-stained gloves off before lifting its fingers in the air—its voice seemingly echoing off the walls of reality itself.

"Come back.”

The soul paused for half a second—the golden light flickering back and forth as if being pulled back and forth by two opposing forces—just enough time for the sky itself to tear open.

It wasn’t meant to go like this—the heavens tried their best to tug him back into their grasps and reclaim him, take him up to the paradise where he could have everything he wanted... except Doll.

Doll would not allow such blasphemy to befall its love— instead chosing to rip him from heaven's grasp and tug him back down to its arms.

With the devotion of something so terrifyingly in love, with the violence of a forgotten god awoken by the feeling of unimaginable grief, Doll shoved Hobie’s soul into his unmoving chest—ribs cracked like wood hollowed out by termites, his flesh split open from the pure force of it all.

Hobie gasped—his lungs seized as he tried to breathe. Blood rushed through his body. His eyes snapped open in defiance of even the laws of life and death itself.

“FUCKIN’—” he managed to choke out as he looked up at his Eldritch lover. “What in the bloody hell, Doll?!”

Doll held him tighter, skin humming in a language the universe had long since forgotten, body shaking violently like it had tilted reality off its axis (perhaps it had.)

“You’re back,” it whispered out like a prayer, voice breaking as if it was crying without tears. “I fixed it. I brought you back.”

“Me ribs,” Hobie groaned, grimacing at the sickening pain in his chest. “Pretty sure you broke every one of my fucking’ ribs—what the hell—”

He looked up at its face, really looked at it, even though it wasn't even human at the moment—His eyes holding something similar to reverence along with something similarly dreadful.

“I'll fix it later! But for now, please just... Just stay with me. Please, please, please, don’t ever leave again.”

“Did you… drag me out of death?”

Doll smiled.

Blood clung to its face from where it had held him close... Its many eyes shimmered with something not quite holy but not quite unholy either.

“Yes,” it said softly, a love smile blooming on what Hobie assumed to be its face. “You are mine alone, Hobie Brown.”

He managed to wheeze out a wet laugh, half disbelieving, half knowing. “You terrifying fucking’ nightmare of a partner~”

“I had warned you of such,” Doll whispered, brushing a soft kiss to his bloodied lips, “if anyone touched you—not even the gods your fellow mortals worship could dream of stopping me.”

Despite everything, Hobie Brown lived—torn from the sharp jaws of death itself, cradled in the arms of something that would break the very laws of existence to keep him breathing.

He let his eyes drift shut again, this time not from death but from the pure exhaustion of it all.

“Guess I’ll stay with you forever after all,” he murmured, cheek pressing into the now somewhat human crevice of Doll’s chest.

Doll said nothing, simply choosing to hold him tighter as its own eyes fluttered closed and its body tiredly slumped down against its love's.

[angel-selfshipper]

— POSTING .ᐟ.ᐟ.ᐟ

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꒰꒰ “𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒” ꒱꒱

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꒰꒰ “𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒” ꒱꒱

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꒰꒰ “𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒” ꒱꒱

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꒰꒰ “𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒” ꒱꒱

───────────── ❤︎ ─────────────

— MEDIA TYPES .ᐟ.ᐟ.ᐟ

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꒰꒰ “𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒” ꒱꒱

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꒰꒰ “𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒” ꒱꒱

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꒰꒰ “𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐔𝐌𝐏𝐒” ꒱꒱

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꒰꒰ “𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒” ꒱꒱

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꒰꒰ “𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒” ꒱꒱

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꒰꒰ “𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒” ꒱꒱

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꒰꒰ “𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐒” ꒱꒱

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꒰꒰ “𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐒” ꒱꒱

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꒰꒰ “𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂” ꒱꒱

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꒰꒰ “𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒” ꒱꒱

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꒰꒰ “𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒” ꒱꒱

───────────── ❤︎ ─────────────

— SHIPPING .ᐟ.ᐟ.ᐟ

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꒰꒰ “𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐒” ꒱꒱

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꒰꒰ “𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐒” ꒱꒱

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꒰꒰ “𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆” ꒱꒱

───────────── ❤︎ ─────────────

— GAMES .ᐟ.ᐟ.ᐟ

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꒰꒰ “𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒” ꒱꒱

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꒰꒰ “𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒” ꒱꒱

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꒰꒰ “𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒” ꒱꒱

───────────── ❤︎ ─────────────

— MUTUALS .ᐟ.ᐟ.ᐟ

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꒰꒰ “𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋 : 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍” ꒱꒱

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꒰꒰ “𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋 : 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍” ꒱꒱

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꒰꒰ “𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋 : 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐀” ꒱꒱

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꒰꒰ “𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋 : 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍” ꒱꒱

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꒰꒰ “𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋 : 𝐒𝐊𝐘” ꒱꒱

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꒰꒰ “𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋 : 𝐒𝐄𝐈” ꒱꒱