#and then have to let him go again because hes So changed and so hurt that he cant stay there anymore

[wintrwinchestr]

an overture of indulgence (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+

summary: it's been a long time since you've seen joel, and some things have changed, but a lot has stayed the same. namely, how quickly he can still get you on his knees for him, ready to show him exactly just how much you like what has changed about him.

warnings: 18+, smut, post-outbreak, jackson joel, d/s relationship dynamics, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, sweet girl, etc), body worship, belly kink, talk of weight gain, belly riding, m/f masturbation, lil bit of humiliation kink, lil bit of edging, reader is an adult but age otherwise unspecified, reader is shorter than joel and has hair long enough to grab, let me know if i missed anything :)

word count: 4.3k

a/n: just fuckin outing myself left and right these days huh. idk what came over me with this one. started this late last night and here it is now. belly enjoyers rise!!!!!!! nice comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed <3 you can't kink shame me bc i like getting bullied so now what. also i avoided daddy kink for once in my life please clap. i know i’m spoiling y’all this weekend don’t get used to it.

divider by @saradika

“...Joel?!” you shout, your leisurely walking pace quickly turning into a hurried jog as you leave Tommy behind, making a beeline toward the man you would swear on your life is Joel Miller. A small handful of years ago now, he was kind of your boyfriend, kind of not, kind of something else more complicated and unlabeled, because who can afford to put a label on anything in times like these?

Joel’s head turns in your direction at the sound of his name, and as soon as you spot that crooked scar across the bridge of his nose, you’re certain it’s him.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe it,” you half-cry, throwing your weight into him as you wrap him in a tight embrace. He’s much taller than you, but you still managed to knock him off his balance a little. He envelops your whole body in one of his signature, all-encompassing hugs, and it’s like no time has passed at all.

The two of you had ended whatever it was you had on good terms, no hard feelings or animosity shared between you. It was just hard to maintain any kind of relationship in a world like this, and trying to nurture romance in the Boston QZ was much like trying to grow a rose garden in toxic, radioactive soil. You can put as much care and effort and something like love into it as you have in you, but the circumstances will just never allow it to reach its full potential. The end of your “relationship” was mutual, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Especially when he had disappeared one day without so much as saying goodbye.

When you had stumbled upon Tommy and a group of patrollers in the snowy forest outside Jackson just earlier today, you were alone, tired, and losing hope that this rumored safe haven even existed at all. You had heard crackles through the radio in the QZ about the community, and even though it sounded too good to be true, what else did you have to lose anymore? After months of travel and survival and pain and hunger, you’d never been so happy to meet a bunch of strangers in the woods in your whole life. You didn’t hesitate to get on the back of Tommy’s horse, and let him lead you to the sanctuary they spoke of.

As he was giving you a tour, proudly showing off their electricity, running water, fresh food, and clean houses, you had started to look forward to what the future may bring, for the first time in a long time. You could never have imagined you’d ever run into Joel again, that this is where he had ended up, of all places. And now here the both of you are, bodies pressed as tightly together as possible, breathing in each other’s familiar scents and never wanting to let go again.

Joel is the first to break the embrace, grasping your head in his large hands and frantically searching your face for any sign that he could be dreaming, that fate hasn’t really brought you back together again after all.

“Jesus Christ, it’s really you,” he breathes, and you swear his voice breaks just a little bit as he presses his lips to your forehead, closing his eyes as he does.

When he blinks them open again, he meets Tommy’s gaze, who’s standing quietly a few yards back from where you’re having your sentimental reunion. Tommy gives an understanding nod, and gestures that he’ll be waiting inside the community’s dining hall, gathering that whatever this is happening between his brother and some girl he only just met, he shouldn’t interrupt. Joel is grateful for many things today, one of them being the rekindled bond he has with Tommy, the other being how you somehow miraculously found your way back to him.

Small groups of other Jackson residents follow Tommy into the dining hall shortly afterward, and as the sun begins to set behind the mountains, Joel realizes it must be about time for dinner to be served.

He detaches his lips from your forehead, brushing some of your hair away from your face as he takes you in again. “You poor thing, must be starvin’ I bet,” he wonders aloud, giving you a sympathetic look.

“Kinda always am, just as a rule, but yeah,” you reply, trying to make light of your situation. Though, Joel doesn’t seem to find the humor in it the way you do.

“Long as you stay here, ain’t ever gotta worry about that again, that’s for damn sure.” He runs his tongue across his lips as he finishes his sentence, already knowing that whatever meal they’re serving tonight, it’ll be some of the most delicious food he’s had in a long time. He suspects you’ll feel much the same. “C’mon, let’s get you inside. Get you warm and fed for once in your life.”

–

Your heart, your stomach, your soul, all feel full as you relax into the comfortable couch in the living room of Joel’s cozy home. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of you staying in an empty house all by yourself tonight, insisting that if you’d like some company while you settle in, you were more than welcome to his. He had let you spend as long as you wanted to in his shower, and he didn’t mind if there was hardly any warm water left by the time you were done. He sure as hell wasn’t paying the bill, and you deserved to feel truly clean. He can remember clear as day how he felt after his first Jackson shower, like he had stripped off a layer of grime he hadn’t been able to scrub all the way clean in twenty years. He had gone to Maria to get you some clothes and underwear while you were bathing, and set them silently on the sink counter for you to put on whenever you were done.

And now here you sit, feeling full and clean and satisfied and comfortable and safe, watching Joel stoke the logs in his fireplace as it casts the whole room in a honey orange glow. You take a moment to admire him while he isn’t looking, and even in the dim and flickering lighting, you can see he’s just as handsome as he was the last time you saw him. He looks older, with more gray in his longer hair and meat on his bones, the latter trait likely due to years worth of the hearty cooking you both indulged in tonight. He looks… good like this.

“It really is nice to see you again, you know. You look…” you start, not being able to help the way your eyes wander to his soft lower belly, the way it pushes taut against his tucked-in flannel shirt and just barely spills over the edge of his jeans.

He turns his head away from the fire to face you. You’re not very subtle in your staring, and he knows what you’re referring to right away. He huffs a light chuckle, trying to brush off the way he thinks you’re poking fun at him.

“I know, I know,” he acknowledges, placing a hand on his stomach. “Been tryin’ to get Maria to give me some more patrol shifts, see if I can get some of the weight off. But hey, you try havin’ three square meals a day for the first time in twenty some odd years, see what it does to you, huh?” He pivots his attention back to the fireplace, and he seems to turn his body further away from you on purpose, so that you can’t see the round profile of his tummy as much.

“No! No, it, um… It suits you. I was gonna say you look good, actually.” You’re quick in your reply, trying to make it clear that you didn’t mean to offend him, without letting too much on. 

He scoffs. “C’mon, you don’t gotta flatter me, sweetheart. I know I don’t exactly look the way you remember–”

“Joel, will you stop?” you interrupt, your voice laced with exasperation. “I’m being serious. Do I look like I’m making fun of you?”

He cranes his neck to look back at where you’re perched on the couch, and gives you a once over. “Guess not… Look a lil’ like somethin’ else, though, if I'm bein’ honest,” he says with a teasing smirk. And there he is again, the same quick-witted Joel you remember from back in the QZ.

You choose to engage in his banter, just to see where he’s going with it. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

He shrugs, beginning to mindlessly poke at the firewood again. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you look like you might like it.”

He’s just kidding around with you, trying to rile you up, you’re sure. But when he gets silence in return instead of the sound of you jumping to defend yourself with another playful jab, he turns to face you once more, and is met with your stunned expression. 

“Oh…” Joel looks down at himself, then back to you again, just in time to catch your eyes flitting from his middle back up to his face. “What, you like ‘em big, sweetheart? ‘S that it?”

The truth is, you do, you always have. It was never a requirement, of course, as the guys you’d been with before Joel all had varying body types. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said that your eyes didn’t linger just a bit longer on guys with a little more to them, with wider arms and thicker legs and a softer middle. You’ve never admitted your preference to anyone before, and Joel calling you out on it now has your face running hot, skin feeling prickly as he sees through you like you’re made of glass.

“I-I don’t– I mean, I do, kinda, but not like that… Well, it is like that, I just mean–” You stumble over yourself, fearing you’ve revealed too much, wishing you could rewind the conversation and just tell him it was nice to see him again, plain and simple.

Joel lays the fire poker down on the granite ledge of the fireplace, approaching where you’re sitting and cupping the side of your face with his calloused hand. 

“Sh, sh, stop, baby. ‘S alright if you do, nothin’ to be ashamed of,” he comforts, and it takes all the willpower you have left not to let your eyes drift down to his stomach, so close you could kiss it, if he’d let you.

“It’s just… I missed you. I thought about you all the time, wondered what ever happened to you after you left. Didn’t even know if you were alive until today. I’m just happy to see you… doing so well. To see that you’re healthy, and everything.” You swallow hard, hoping you sound convincing enough that he’ll let this go, forget all about your little admission just now. But of course, Joel is as stubborn as he’s ever been, and he doesn’t plan on releasing you from his trap now that you’re ensnared in it. 

“That’s sweet, baby, ‘s real sweet,” Joel says, softly, stroking his thumb across your cheekbone as he speaks. “Thought about you too, all this time. Practically every day…” He rakes his eyes over you, noticing the way his touch has you starting to melt already, how you’re looking up at him with your wide, needy eyes. “Why don’t you show me just how much you missed me, hm? How much you love seein’ me healthy, as you put it.”

You’re stunned into silence once again, jaw slack and pupils wide as you search his gaze for proof that he’s just messing with you, making fun of you just to watch you squirm. But you don’t find any.

“O-okay,” you agree in a half-whisper.

Joel smiles down at you, satisfied. “All these years later, still just the sweetest thing, ain’t you? You still just as obedient, too?”

You nod without even thinking, words catching up with your instinctual response a second later. “Mhm, yeah, I am…” You had forgotten how easy it is to submit to him, how good it feels to let the hypnotizing tone of his voice carry you somewhere far away from yourself, when you need it the most. Whether it was after a shitty day of working for shittier rations in the QZ, or after a harsh trek in harsher weather to a forested oasis, Joel always knows how to make you feel like submission is your most natural state. 

“Good… Kneel for me please, sweetheart,” he commands, and you obey immediately, his hand slipping from your face as you slide from the couch onto the woven carpet beneath you. Like second nature, your hands automatically fold themselves on your lap, remembering how you were never to touch Joel until he permitted you to. He takes note of this, and praises you accordingly. “Look at that, didn’t even have to ask. Such a good girl.”

He’s so enamored with you, he almost forgets where he was going with this until he watches your eyes flash to the growing bulge in his jeans, then back up to him. “Not tonight, sweetheart. Was thinkin’ you could put that pretty mouth to use on somethin’ different this time, hm?”

You knit your brows together, not sure what he means, but he doesn’t let you wonder for long. Slowly, he starts to unbutton his flannel shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. He tosses it onto the ground, then pulls his undershirt off over his head, adding it to the other discarded clothing. Without the confines of his slightly-too-tight button-up, you can see how much he really has filled out. Everything about his upper body is just a little more plush, with petal pink stretch marks adorning the soft skin in various places. You want to make it your personal mission to kiss each and every one of them, commit their exact coordinates on his body to memory.

There's a deep scar, you notice, to the left of his belly button, that has almost successfully disguised itself as one of those pretty marks. It’s definitely new since you saw him last, and it looks like it hurt, especially with the evidence of how crudely it had been stitched back together.

“What happened?” you wonder aloud, worried eyes glued to the healed injury.

He has to peer over the curve of his belly to see what you’re looking at. “Long story. Happened on my way out here, after I left Boston. Nothin’ for you to worry about, sweet girl, hardly even hurt. Forget it’s even there, most of the time,” he answers, still with a dominant edge to his voice that does a mostly good job of convincing you it’s the truth.

“Can… Can I?” you ask, waiting to receive his permission before you move your hands from your lap. 

“Yeah, baby, go ahead,” Joel allows. 

You reach out a small hand to gently trace over the raised scar, then press your lips to it with your hands splayed out on either side of your head, just barely pressing into his belly. He releases a soft groan, cradling the back of your head with one of his hands, applying the lightest amount of pressure to let you know this is where he wants to keep you. 

“Why don’t you keep goin’, sweetheart? Gimme some more lovin’ like that, know you wanna,” he encourages, and you think you get the idea now, what it is he wanted to put your pretty mouth to use for.

With his explicit permission to continue, you don’t need telling twice. You move your face to hover just in front of his belly button, admiring the dense salt and pepper happy trail that sprouts from where his jeans push into his soft skin. You drag your tongue along the hair, nipping at the soft curve of where it disappears into the divot in his stomach. He makes a noise in response, half pained and half pleasured, but he doesn’t stop you. Just for good measure, you place a kiss to the little blushing mark where your teeth had scraped him.

Almost of their own volition, it seems, your hands begin to knead at his stomach as you make good on your promise to yourself to kiss every single one of his stretch marks. You allow your tongue to dart from your mouth on the last one, and Joel sucks in a breath.

“Oh, fuck. Forgot how good that wet lil’ mouth feels on me, sweetheart. Keep goin’,” he says, voice coming out strained. His fingers curl tightly into your hair, and he begins to maneuver your face around his belly. You lathe your tongue over his skin as he does, slicking him with wet, sloppy kisses. “Yeah, baby, you fuckin’ worship it, show me how much you like me like this.”

It’s a little humiliating, but just enough that you like the feeling. You’re breathing hard and fast, letting out little whimpers as your fluttering cunt begins to soak your underwear. He brings your face to a stop at the most tantalizing part of him, the part that truly evidences how much more he’s allowed himself to indulge since settling in Jackson. The ample curve of flesh that just barely conceals the waistband of his jeans, the part you’ve wanted to get your mouth on since you first saw how it strained the lower buttons of his shirt. You latch onto it, massaging the skin around it as you use your teeth and tongue to suck a mark into him.

A growl rumbles from deep in his chest, and he curses under his breath. “Like it that much, huh? Fuck, naughty thing, look at you.”

You’re so fucking turned on, you’re shivering, rocking where you kneel and squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to get some kind of relief. You let one of your hands drift to the hard shape in Joel’s jeans, and it seems he’s enjoying this as much as you are. He spots your pathetic little squirms as you rut against nothing, and then he’s using his grip on your hair to pull you up from the floor.

“Got an idea. Up,” he commands roughly, and you detach your lips from his belly to obey his order. “Get these off, there we go.” He pulls down your sweatpants and underwear, helping you step out of them. “Christ, you’re soaked,” Joel teases, eyeing the sizable wet spot in your panties as he tosses them aside to join the other forgotten clothing. He reaches a hand toward the apex of your thighs, teasing your wet pussy and gathering some of your slick on two of his fingers. You let out a tiny yelp, but let him play with you, and then he’s bringing his fingers in front of his face and examining the sticky strings of your arousal when he spreads them apart. “All this just from lettin’ you worship all this, huh?” he taunts, patting his stomach once for emphasis. “Who’d’ve thought? Not that I’m complainin’...”

He quickly rids himself of his jeans and briefs, then reclines onto the couch with a quiet groan, stretching out his body along the length of it. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking as it bobs against his belly, his precum adding to the dampness still there from your tongue. “Come sit, sweetheart,” Joel says, softly, motioning with both of his hands for you to come closer.

You grip a hand onto the backrest of the couch to balance yourself while you move to straddle him, prepared to sink down onto his length for the first time in way too fucking long. “Uh uh, not there, baby,” he instructs, smirking when he sees how you hesitate in confusion. “Take a seat right here for me.” Again, he pats that most tempting area of his lower belly, and you just about fall apart at the sight of how his flesh ripples in the wake of it.

“Yeah, there you go, good girl,” he praises, both hands gripping your waist as he helps you settle your weight onto his soft abdomen.

“I dunno, don’t wanna hurt you–” you start, but he cuts you off swiftly.

“You won’t, baby. I’m a big man, ain’t I?” he teases, flashing you a devilish and knowing smile. “Go on, sweetheart, ride it.”

You inhale a shuddering breath, then place both of your hands on his shoulders to hold yourself up. You start an experimental buck into his belly, and that trail of dark hair tickles your clit so perfectly. It takes a few tries for you to get the positioning and pressure just right, and then you’re truly riding him, using his full stomach to get yourself off while he watches. 

“God, that’s good. Use it, baby. You love me bigger, love that I’ve been eatin’ so good, prove it to me, c’mon,” Joel goads, and it spurs you on to grind against him harder, faster, as incoherent mumbles and curses tumble from your lips.

“Love it, Joel, you look so good, fuck. So fucking–mmh–so big, makes me so… so–”

“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. Makes you fuckin’ soaked is what it does, god damn. You gonna get my belly all messy, hm? Gonna rub your lil’ cunt all over it, get me all fuckin’ wet?”

“Uh huh, yeah, gonna… I’m gonna–” you whine, eyes shutting tight as your hips pick up their pace. You move your hands from his shoulders to place them on his stomach instead, grabbing at handfuls of his tummy in an effort to create something more solid to rub yourself against. 

You’re already embarrassingly close, the humiliating edge to your earlier worship having gotten you most of the way there on its own. So swollen and sensitive it almost hurts, you won’t need much more to reach your high.

“Not without me, you ain’t. Gonna be right there with ya. You remember how we used to do it?” Joel asks, as if you could ever forget. He’s referring to your many late nights, early mornings, in his bed or in a back alley or wherever in the QZ, where he liked to make sure you both finished at the same time. You’d always be the first one to reach the edge, because he’d focus all his attention on getting you there before him, just to make you wait. It was never something punishing, just something he liked to do as an extra bit of control and dominance, and he knew it always made your orgasms that much more powerful and satisfying when he would finally permit you to let go.

With your eyes closed, so focused on your own pleasure, you hadn’t noticed that he had reached behind you to start fisting his cock some time ago. But you can hear it now, the wet schlick of his hand moving up and down his shaft as he works himself. “Hold it for me, sweetheart, I know you can. Keep rubbin’ your pretty pussy against me, jus’ like that, almost there…”

You mewl, screwing your face up as you force yourself to slow down your thrusts, muscles tense as you try to keep your orgasm at bay for as long as you can. 

Thankfully, he must be worked up enough from seeing you fall apart for him so easily for the first time in so long, that his permission comes just a few minutes later.

“Come for me, babygirl, soak my fuckin’ belly, c’mon,” Joel growls, and you fall forward immediately, twitching and spasming and crying out into the soft muscle of his shoulder as you ride out the shuddering shocks of your orgasm. He groans next to your ear as he comes, and you can feel the warm ropes of his own release as some of them land on your lower back. You’re both wet, heaving messes, as you embrace each other for the second time today and work on catching your breath.

So exhausted from the day you had, you must’ve fallen asleep against his chest as you laid there, because then you’re being woken up by the dull scratch of his fingertips against your scalp and his familiar voice working its way through the thick fog that clouds your tired brain. 

“You alright, baby?” he asks, and you can hear that he’s smiling, amused at this sleepy little thing he’s got clinging to him.

“Mhm, jus’ tired,” you answer, a barely-there mumble of a sentence.

“I’ll bet… You wanna get cleaned up? Get all tucked into bed?”

You shake your head against his neck, and he chuckles.

“No? Whatcha wanna do then, hm?”

“Jus’ lay here. Missed you. Don’t wanna let… go…” 

Your sentence drifts off into silence before the temptation of sleep allows you to finish it, but Joel gets the idea. He smiles to himself, kissing the top of your head, and hugs you closer. Both of you are still sticky and damp, but satisfied. And together again. And that’s a hell of a lot better than the alternative.

So he agrees, and you stay like that for the rest of the night. Joel doesn’t worry about whether or not he remembered to set his alarm clock for his extra patrol shift the next morning, or if he’ll even hear it all the way from his bedroom upstairs, because it doesn’t matter anyway. He has you, and you made it very clear tonight just how much you like him exactly the way he is. 

Maybe, your rose garden can finally begin to bloom, now that the pair of you have somewhere safe and comfortable and healthy to try your hand at nurturing it again.

tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

[marvel-ous-m]

Catastrophizing

Written for @steddiemicrofic May Prompt: Top | WC: 510 | Rating: Teen and Up Audiences | Tags: Academic Stress, Hurt/Comfort, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug (and Eddie Munson gives him one)

“Stevie, it’s almost two in the morning, what are you still doing awake?” The question pulled Steve from his fixation on the task in front of him- he didn’t even realize how late it was. 

“Fuck.” Steve breathed out the exclamation, his hands coming up to scrub at his face and relieve some of the pain from his aching eyes. 

Now that he wasn’t so focused, everything he was feeling hit him like a truck: exhaustion, hunger, frustration because his stupid brain wouldn’t make sense of the words in the textbook, and he needed to understand this concept to pass the class, and he had to pass this class to get his degree, and he fucking needed to graduate or else he couldn’t go to graduate school, couldn’t be a counselor for the kids needed him, couldn’t be the person he wished he had when he was a kid-

“Shh, it’s okay baby, you’re alright.” He was being pulled into Eddie’s arms, now. His face was pressed against his boyfriend’s stomach, and Eddie was running a hand through the back of his hair in that way he did, the way that made everything in his brain go quiet and soft. 

Eddie’s shirt was wet- or, no, actually, Steve was soaking the front of Eddie’s shirt with tears. He was crying, which was so dumb, really, because who cried over a science textbook? 

Eddie’s hand carded through his hair again. Steve’s breath hitched at that, transforming into a sob muffled by the fabric of Eddie’s clothing. “Oh, sweetheart.” 

Steve was gently pulled back from his boyfriend’s embrace, then Eddie was kneeling in front of him, a worried gaze meeting his tear-soaked eyes. “Baby, you need to rest. You’ve been at this since I came home from band practice at five. Did you even have dinner?”

“N-no, but Eds, you don’t get it, I have to stay on top of this- if I don’t, I’ll fail the quiz this week, then I’ll fail the class, and then I won’t graduate on time and I won’t get accepted to grad school, and then-”

“Steve. You’re catastrophizing, sweetheart. I know this feels really hard right now, I get that, but two-in-the-morning Steve isn’t going to understand it any better than well-rested, fed, eight-in-the-morning Steve, will he?”

“I guess not? But I really need to understand this, Eddie-”

“And you will. I have the utmost confidence in you and your big, beautiful brain. But I think you’re gonna be a lot better off if you let me make you some food then come to bed with me for at least six hours of sleep. Can we try that, baby?”

Eddie grabbed his hands then, squeezed them in that loving, reassuring way that reminded Steve that, no matter what happened, he’d have Eddie by his side- and taking a break didn’t seem all that daunting, anymore. 

Steve’s silent nod of assent launched Eddie into action. Steve closed the textbook in front of him, went to their bedroom to change into pajamas, and let himself be loved. 

[moonyswritinq]

runs in the family — platonic! edwin payne x sibling! gn reader

❝ RUNS IN THE FAMILY ❞

SYNOPSIS ➢ Edwin had been dead for decades and you had wandered the earth as a ghost in search for him. Who would have thought that you would find him in a small town in America, just strolling down the street?

PAIRING ➢ platonic! edwin payne x sibling! gender neutral reader

CONTENT WARNING ➢ mentions of death, kind of flirty reader, not much more warning needed than that, takes place end of chapter three, so spoilers?? not beta read

WORD COUNT ➢ 2.7 k

AUTHORS NOTE ➢ seeing as the reader is written as a sibling to Edwin it is implied they are biologically related and therefore caucasian. But since I have not specified anything the reader could just as well be adopted and of another ethnicity, so I leave it up to be your choice.

MASTERLIST, TAG LIST

It had been a hundred years.

A century had gone by since you died. And still you had not managed to finish your business in order to move on to the afterlife. How could you? When your older brother had mysteriously gone missing from his boarding school, simply presumed dead, and labeled as ‘an act of God’ and nothing else had happened. No one made inquiries. No one bothered to try to do him justice.

No one cared.

And it infuriated you. So much to the point of taking up the quest of finding him yourself. But no one knew anything, nor cared to tell you anything, so you were unable to find anything worthy of interest. Edwin simply did not matter to anyone besides you—even your parents were frustratingly unhelpful. It broke your heart. You didn’t want to live in a world that didn’t care about its people. Luckily, you didn’t have to for long.

It happened a year after you graduated from high school, making you three years older than the age Edwin  had been when he disappeared. As soon as you’d completed school you had gotten out of your conservative town, opting to travel to London instead to settle down there. The aftermath of the war had just calmed down and you thought you could get a new start. You hadn’t entirely left the business of Edwin behind you, but knowing there was nothing more you could do for him settled your guilt slightly.

When you had finally started getting used to the idea of Edwin actually being gone and of the possibility of moving on with your life, you died. A simple case of wrong place, wrong time in a robbery. And you reckoned some part of you weren’t completely ready to let go of Edwin because you had woken up again, as a ghost.

It was strange at first, feeling nothing but still being there, invisible to everyone but yourself. And it hadn’t hurt much—you had died immediately.

What should have been a tragedy left you feeling nothing but relief. You were finally free from the world’s boundaries and rules and the idiotic people that wouldn’t help your brother. Then being able to travel anywhere you wanted, speak to other dead people, and uncover all the supernatural entities that had been hiding under your nose your whole living life was more than you could have wished for. Was it possible Edwin could also be somewhere? Wandering around as a ghost, the same as you?

The thought was too good to even hope to be true. As it turns out, it was.

You visited all the places Edwin had been or he had talked about going to or anywhere you could have imagined his ghost to have gone. But there were no signs of him—at least no signs that you could find. No one had any information about your brother. It almost left you feeling like how you had when you were alive. Your world had gone from the bright colours of hope back to the dull monochromaticity that your life had been.

For years you had wandered the planet, going from country to country, adapting to the changing years and humanity’s new technology. It interested you to figure out the new things that were invented and to keep up with the modern world—not to talk about all the different ghosts, people, and other supernatural beings you met. While it was nice to travel around without a clear goal, your mind was constantly stuck on the thought of your brother being alone somewhere.

You needn’t have worried though, you realised, when you had found yourself in the small town of Port Townshend, walking down the street and seeing a very familiar face. Right across the road, a figure clad in a brown coat was walking with an all too rigid posture and pursing his lips at the teenagers surrounding him. You were too stunned to speak, your tongue felt as if it were locked, unable to voice any of the jumble of thoughts currently bouncing through your mind.

“Edwin?” you croaked, voice strained as it fought against the constricting of your throat. You hurriedly ran to cross the road, narrowly missing a car. It wouldn’t have hurt, but habits die hard—even if it had been a hundred years since you were alive. And so you let out a loud curse, swivelling out of its path, “Oh, bloody hell!”

When you turned to continue to the other side of the street you already found a familiar pair of eyes locked onto yours. Edwin had stopped completely in his path and with his mouth agape, arms hanging by his side. You couldn’t fight the grin that made its way to your face and broke out in a run, crashing into his frame with a hug.

“Wha—” he stumbled, before embracing you back and nestling his face into your shoulder.

It felt as if he would never let you go by the grip he had on you—and you couldn’t blame him. It had been way too long since you had hugged him like this and you couldn’t help the relieved chuckle that escaped you. It also felt weird hugging another ghost—it was like he was there and he wasn’t, but you could feel his presence in a way you couldn’t when you touched the living.

“It’s you,” you whispered, pulling away to grab him by the shoulders and really take him in. “It’s really you.”

Edwin looked just like you had remembered him to have looked when he disappeared. The same eyes, with which he always sent glares your way, and the same smile he hid in the corner of his lips by turning away from you, although it shone through at you then as a grin. He couldn’t help it, and neither could you.

“I—I never thought I would see you again,” he said.

You scoffed. “As if you could get rid of me that easily.” Then your eyes softened. “Though you scared me half to death.”

“More than half, it would seem,” he said, looking you up and down. “What are you still doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” you asked, a smile on your lips despite your soft tone. “You were my unfinished business.”

You went in for another hug with a chuckle, holding him even tighter as if he would disappear if you didn’t. All that worrying, all that searching, all that trouble you had gone through to find your brother and it was all finally worth it. The thought made you almost want to cry—almost. You pulled away then for real, letting the both of you go back to your regular composure as a relaxed grin settled against your lips and Edwin’s went back to hiding in the corner of his lips.

That was when you noticed the questioning stares from his three friends. They were all glancing back and forth between you in clear confusion. 

“Sorry, did everyone just see what I saw?” questioned the dark-haired girl with a frown, gesturing between the two of you. “Who are you?”

You smiled at her. “Forgive me for being rude. I forgot myself for a second,” you said with a glance at Edwin. “I’m y/n, Edwin’s sibling.”

The three of them stared in astonishment upon hearing the words uttered, again looking between you two.

“I see the resemblance now that you mention it,” said the tall boy.

You shot him a playful smile. “I’m clearly the better sibling, though.”

“As if,” scoffed Edwin and tugged at his cuff. “At least I am older.”

You raised an eyebrow and pursed your lips. “Don’t know if that is actually true, anymore. I was alive longer than you were.”

“What? No.” He looked affronted at your words. “My birth was before yours and I am thus older than you.”

The boy next to him cleared his throat with a pointed glance. Edwin resumed to his usual composure, a curtain falling over his features as his bickering spirit died out. You let out a snicker, glancing between the four of them.

“You gonna introduce me to your handsome friends, Edwin?” you asked with a grin, eyeing the tall boy specifically.

Edwin glared at you. “Don’t,” he spit out, warning lacing through his tone. When you held up your hands in surrender he turned to his friends, gesturing to them all in turn with their names. “Y/n, this is Charles, Niko and Crystal.”

“Nice to meet you,” Niko’s soft voice said, hopping forward to give you a hug.

It caught you slightly off guard, but it was welcomed even though you couldn’t feel it as well as you could feel Edwin’s ghost hug. Crystal gave you a hesitant hand to shake and you took it enthusiastically with a smile. She smiled then, apparently less apprehensive. Charles also thrust out a hand along with a charming smirk.

“Any sibling of Edwin must be brills,” he said. “Also a ghost, by the way.”

You took his hand with an appreciative nod. “Did you hear that, Edwin? I’m brills,” you said and looked over your shoulder.

By doing so, you didn’t miss the soft gaze Edwin was looking at Charles with and nodded to yourself, smiling coyly. While you had learnt to adapt to the modern times, and even back then had always been quite open about yourself, Edwin was a shyer and more private person. You would let him work it out by himself.

“You know, I missed your miserable face,” you remarked, turning to nudge him with your elbow. “I also think we have a lot to catch up on, Edwin.” 

“I would say that is quite correct. We will take care of that, later,” he nodded in his stilted way. Weird as it was, you had missed his gestures.

When the four of them turned to keep walking, Niko suddenly let out a loud gasp. “There’s Monty, our new friend,” she exclaimed.

You turned to look where she was gesturing and saw a very handsome boy looking up when hearing his name. He smiled easily at the five of you and stood up from the bench he had been sitting on with a few books in hand. The boy, Monty, let out what sounded like a nervous chuckle while glancing between the group, definitely noting the closeness between you and Edwin.

“Hey. Wow, quite the crew you got here.”

“So, he’s alive and he can see the boys?” asked Crystal.

“Oh, he can definitely see Edwin,” replied Niko. You saw Monty smile at Edwin and turned to your brother with a questioning glance. He only shrugged.

When you turned back, you found Monty was already staring at you. His eyes were dark and thoughtful, jumping from your face to your clothes and your boots and your frame and your hair and your smirk—which spread even wider. His mouth opened in a silent gasp as he took in the sight of you. You could feel your lifeless cheeks warm with blood—if they could do that—and let your gaze skirt away nervously.

“Oh, hi, I, uh, don’t believe I have seen you before.” Monty smiled sheepishly at you and his voice was warm and sweet. “I feel, uh, like I would have remembered a face like yours.”

His face got redder the longer he talked and the more he tripped over his words. It was weirdly endearing and you smiled at him as his gaze jumped between you and Edwin.

“Edwin’s my brother,” you said. “I’m y/n. Also a ghost.”

“Charmed.” Monty’s grin grew wider. “I suppose good looks run in the family.”

You saw Edwin shift uneasily out of the corner of your eye and smiled at him. Monty’s unashamedly flirting was clearly not something Edwin was entirely ready for yet, but it only made the whole thing more amusing. And you couldn’t ignore the playful smirk Monty was giving you nor the glint in his eye.

“And I’m Charles. Nice to meet you, mate,” interrupted the other ghost, his own charming smile fixed on his lips, and extended a hand for Monty to take. “Any pal of Edwin’s is aces in my book.”

Monty’s lips pursed. “Yeah, sorry, hands are full,” he said, his voice suddenly cold and stand-offish.

He moved past you, closer to Edwin, but you didn’t miss the way his gaze lingered on you. You smiled to yourself as you turned to the other three, looking back at Monty.

“I was polite, wasn’t I?” asked Charles. His voice sounded much smaller, almost insecure.

“Yeah, you did good,” replied Crystal and patted him reassuringly on the shoulder.

You crossed your arms over your chest and leant closer to him. “Don’t take it personal just ‘cause you aren’t pretty enough to earn Monty’s kindness.”

Charles turned to you, affronted, and glared at your cheeky smile. “Oi, hurtful. I’m very pretty, I’ll have you know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, glancing up at him. “And don’t you worry, Edwin knows it too.”

His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

You only shrugged, glancing back at your brother and Monty. You saw Edwin take the book from him, completely oblivious to the way his gaze was fixed on him, and Niko was unashamedly listening in on their conversation. You took the opportunity to study Monty’s feature’s more carefully, gazing at the ways his lips lifted ever so slightly, and how his eyes suddenly jumped to yours. Immediately, you looked away in shame at being caught staring at him and you were sure to be blushing if you were still capable of it. When you dared look back at him his eyes were yet again on Edwin, but his smirk a bit wider.

“Hey.” You looked to Charles again, nudging him in the side. “If Edwin doesn’t know, though, at least I do.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed his grin widen as his eyes fixed on you. That was when Edwin glanced past Monty, meeting your eye briefly before flickering over to Charles. You noticed him hesitate in his reply to Monty and furrowed your brows. It wasn’t like your brother to be careful about his words. Crystal seemed to know what he was thinking as she suddenly brought her hands together.

“Ah, well,” she began, sighing with what sounded like very bad conviction, ”Axe-murder, suicide Groundhog Day drained me, so, uh… I’m gonna head up.”

You shot her a questioning glance but decided against asking her about it. Whatever Edwin and his group had been up to you had more than enough time to figure out. Now that you had found him, there was no chance you were letting him go.

Niko nodded at Crystal’s words, still caught up with whatever Edwin and Monty were speaking about. “Okay, I’ll be up soon,” she said.

Crystal sighed and went over to the other girl, taking ahold of her arm and dragging her away from the boys. You shot a questioning glance at Edwin, but he just nodded for you to go without him. Briefly, you met Monty’s gaze as well and were almost pinned to the spot by his smile before he turned back to your brother. You swallowed and made to walk away when you noticed Charles was still stuck to the same spot, his gaze pinned to Edwin.

“Come on, mate, let’s go.”

He scoffed but let himself be guided away to follow the other two. You heard the traces of Edwin and Monty’s conversation follow behind you, their voices floating through the air. Monty’s was melodic and it made you sigh at the sound of it.

“He’s very cute, isn’t he?” you asked Charles, nudging his side with your elbow.

“Yeah,” he nodded, glancing over his shoulder.

You weren’t sure you were talking about the same person.

Tag list: @a-gay-dumbass @eunxhan @loverclear

[envy-of-the-apple]

I cant stop thinking about mafia boss suguru constantly changing plans for reader on the fly everytime he meets her since the DAY HE MET YOU IN PERSON

I just feel like he is because i kept thinking back on reader's fumble at suguru's meeting and making her sit on his lap, that's just an out of pocket thing to do to your employee(especially if youre turning a blind eye to him and his tame advancements) and my brain got out of hand with its assumptions every moment suguru decides what to do with reader

I mean it would be a cute (twisted)romance when he mentioned doing his background check with apathy then when he met you for real he never expected a barrage of feelings he felt for you, so originally he would pimp you out, but in you go to do office work instead because youre mine or rather ours now, and then proceeded to do an impressive feat of lightning quick decisions that luckily tips to his favor, like your confrontation with your father's aggrieved enemies and was presented with fool proof of an opportunity to have a solid future with you(im fuming he just let that dude go and let men from rivaling groups vex us!)

As much as premeditated machinations go, lucky bastard suguru is unironically funny and brushing with your father's enemy feels like a moment he never anticipated?? Idk, that part cemented what my brain is cooking of him

Would you ever consider dropping another part for suguru's pov? I really wanna know at what point he fell for reader(and i wanna know what hes thinking when reader said "just for one night 🥺")

omg seeing this in my inbox was such a treat! I love it when yall get analytical.

What can I say? Suguru is an opportunist, he's sadistic enough to let you get bullied and tossed around a little, just so you can plead and cry so prettily in his arms. If if makes you feel any better, Suguru was keeping a close eye on the men who crashed Miss Gem's apartment, and made sure you weren't there to get hurt. He just wanted to scare you enough to coax you into his arms lololol. So many people theorized that he was the one who orchestrated it, (he didn't, suguru hates getting his hands dirty). How could he have known that letting that man get away would cause this domino effect? If anything he and his husband are the good guys for giving you a refuge for such a low price.

Omg the love at first sight trope is so funny for Suguru. Buuut if you reread the fic again you might find that's not exactly what happened:).

I really like the way this ended so I probably wont be making a part two or anything in suguru's pov. buut to answer your last question suguru was definitely nodding along but in his head he was going 'right like we're ever letting you go after this'.

After all, it wasn't really a choice. But for your sake, he made you think you had one. See, he really does love you;)

[phoebepheebsphibs]

Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 11: Anthropophobia

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

Prev || Next

Splinter is the first to meet April as she walks in. She's carrying several bags that hang from her wrists and arms. Apparently she went grocery shopping before she got here.

Splinter walks over to her and nods his head in greeting.

"Ah, April. Good to see you again..." he sniffs the air, his demeanour immediately changing from composed host to excited foodie. "Ooooh, is that tiramisu I smell?"

April laughs as she reaches into one of the bags.

"All for you, Splints," she says, handing the box of cake over to Splinter, who grabs it with a huge grin.

"Aha! Come to big papa! Thank you, April, this is very kind of you."

"Anything for you and the guys," she says with a smile. "Speaking of which, how's Mikey doing?"

Splinter pauses.

"...How much have they told you?"

"You know Donnie, he likes to be vague and build up suspense for dramatic effect. But he texted me last night to say how the mission went."

"Did he?"

"Sometime at like, midnight or one AM," she grumbles. "Just to say that the mission was a success and they got Mikey back. I asked how he was, and all he said was that he was alive and conscious. But I haven't known Donnie all these years to not know when he's hiding something. So, how is Mikey, really? Is he okay?"

"It's difficult to say," Splinter mumbles, walking back into the lair with April. "He's... he's awake and can communicate, to some extent. He can walk and even run. But... I'll let you decide when you see him."

April is unsure what he means by that, but lets it slide. She's sure she'll find out in a bit.

The three other Hamato sons come into the room to greet them. Leo is first, rushing in with haste. Raph comes in after him, his pace quick but not as swift as Leon's. Donnie meanders in last, his stride slow and somewhat sluggish. He looks exhausted.

"Hey, family!" she says, leaning in for a hug from Leo, who takes half of the bags from her as Raph takes the rest. "How're you holding up?"

"Well enough," Leo mutters. "All things considered. At least, I haven't had a emotional breakdown yet!"

Raph looks embarrassed. Apparently he can't match that boast.

"Where is the man of the hour?" April asks. "I got some new paint pens for him."

Leo looks uncomfortable.

"Uhh... we left him in Donnie's lab. I think he's still asleep... let's get these groceries into the kitchen for now; we'll tell you about everything."

April nods sadly as she follows the guys.

.

.

.

"Hold him still!"

"Stop struggling!"

"Get me 20 Cc's of the mandrill, the boa, and the -- crap, he's gotten loose again!"

Mikey shrieks as he jumps down from the operating chair and dashes to the exit. A guard blocks his path, a cattle prod in his grip. He flicks the switch on it and a loud grinding sound ignites as blue sparks fly from the end. Mikey makes a quick turn and dodges him, running to a corner of the room and cowering. The doctors surround him angrily.

"Where's that frost gun?"

"Over there by the table!"

"Antagonizing little cretin! You'd think he'd have learned his lesson from the last time!!"

One of the men in white comes back, brandishing a long thin airgun with a blue stripe down the middle. A special weapon made specifically for him, for when he acts out. The doctor points it at Mikey and pulls the trigger. A gust of icy air shoots out directly at Mikey. He screeches in pain as the shock of temperature causes his body to go rigid. He falls to the ground convulsing and shivering, painful stabbing sensations prickle across his entire body. He almost feels like he's dying. He can't move.

The guards grab him roughly. He can't move to fight back. Mikey sobs and screams.

He hurts so much, there are so many hurting places on his body.

Needles that have broken the skin to inject what Mikey can only assume is poison because of how much it hurts.

Bruises from where he has been forced into places with other animals to see how they interact. They are never friendly. Mikey is the only one to ever walk out of the room again. Instinct is efficient and ruthless.

There is no love in this room. Only hate. Only pain.

Mikey is taken back to the chair and strapped down. He howls.

"I'd advise you not to do that again," a doctor says with anger burning in his eyes. "Or else there will be consequences."

Consequences worse than what is happening now? He doubts it.

Syringes prick his arms. Oozes and slimes and ghastly liquids are shoved into his veins and bloodstreams. He can feel it doing painful things to him, he feels his bones shift and crack and grow and shrink. His teeth snap into new formations and his fingers start to elongate, the nails splintering and curving into talons.

Mikey sobs. Why is he here? Why do they hate him? Where are the other ones?? Where is Red, and Blue, and Purple? Where did they go, why have they left him behind? Did they escape this place? This place is all he can remember, apart from them. He only recalls needles and linoleums and cages and cold and pain and tears and hatred and fury and longing and loneliness.

Why did they leave him... didn't they love him, once?

Didn't anybody love him once?

No. No one could ever have loved anything from this place.

No one could have loved whatever it is that Mikey is.

.

.

.

Mikey's eyes snap open, tears streaming down his cheeks.

He doesn't recognize this room. It's another cage? It's a small white tunnel, he's stuck inside, he needs to get out!

Mikey clambers around, whining and crying like a puppy stuck in a kennel. He somehow manages to make a backwards shimmy out of the tunnel.

He is in Purple's lab. He wants to leave, now. Right now.

Purple and Blue and Red aren't in here. Where did they go?

The door is open. Mikey rushes out, calling for them.

He howls, long whining hoots that anyone within the lair could hear. Why don't they respond? Where are they?

They left him again...? They left him. They left.

Gone. Gone. Gone.

Mikey starts to whimper.

Should have known they would leave...

No, they wouldn't leave!

Then where are they?

Somewhere... Brothers are somewhere... He'll find them eventually.

No trust. Something bad. Smell something bad.

Mikey smells it, too. Where is the bad smell coming from?

It's not a disgusting scent. In fact, it is, in some ways, very nostalgic. There are traces of coconut oil in it. Sweet scents. But it is a bad smell.

Something dangerous is in the home.

It's coming from the kitchen...

Mikey goes into hunting mode. He digs his talons into the cracks between the bricks in the wall. As he climbs, the pads on his palms shift, tickling sensations that give pins and needles on his hands. Miniscule hairs create Van der Waals forces, causing a suction effect as Mikey starts to scale the wall and crawl to the ceiling.

He sneaks along the top of the hallway, following the bad smell.

Mikey cranes his neck down to peer into the kitchen. Everyone is inside, unloading bags and boxes and containers of food and supplies.

Rat is in the corner of the room, wiping his eyes. He was crying. The human who made breakfast is also in here, quietly rummaging through the pantries and cabinets as he places things away. He looks like he might cry, too. Blue, Red and Purple are holding someone in their arms. She is making a lot of noise, weeping and wailing and sobbing in their embrace. Apparently everyone was crying.

They must love her.

But she smells bad. She has the bad smell. Why trust bad smell?

The bad smell is human.

We don't like humans.

No... we don't... but the male human made the food for us! We trust male human?

NO. No trusting humans! Bad humans! They do terrible things to us. Mikey must not trust humans. Only Instinct. Instinct kept us alive.

Instinct kept Mikey alive...

The male human seems to sense something is watching them, and looks up. He yelps in surprise.

Red, Blue, and Purple turn to look at him, then at what he's pointing at. The girl looks up at Mikey and screams in fright.

He hisses back at her, growling loudly as his tail whips underneath him. The scales and scutes start to lift, the ridges on his shoulders and thighs raising high. His tail becomes a spiky bludgeon.

Let Instinct take over. Instinct will keep us safe.

Mikey can do it. Instinct Might hurt brothers.

Instinct is better. Stronger. Instinct is --

MIKEY CAN DO IT, he snaps back in his mind. His tail cracks like a whip again as he snarls angrily.

The human girl yipes and hides behind Red.

Mikey starts to creep along the ceiling, watching them. Making sure that the evil humans don't do anything to hurt Rat or brothers.

Red follows him around the room, raising his hands and guarding the girl.

"Mikey? Hey Mikey, come on down, bud..."

"How... how is he doing that?" the girl asks.

"Lizards can climb on walls," Blue mutters. "Remember we said he has lizard DNA now?"

"I can't believe... that's really Mikey?" the girl whimpers quietly, grabbing Blue's arm.

"It's him," Blue says. He sounds sad.

"Mikey, come down?" Red begs.

Mikey sneers at the girl.

"What? April? You remember April, right?"

Mikey snaps at her, baring his teeth. The canines are growing longer and longer.

"Mikey, she's your sister," Red enunciates.

Mikey's expression softens. Sister? Like brothers?

"Yeah, mi hermano, she's cool! It's big sis April!" Blue joins in, patting her on the head. "See? She's one of us!"

Mikey croaks at her, cocking his head in confusion.

Don't trust her. Don't trust them. Humans are evil. Humans did this to us. They hurt us, and kept us from brothers, and made us sad and scared. She will hurt you!

Red walks directly underneath Mikey and holds his arms out as far as he can. Mikey lowers himself into his embrace, dangling upside down from the ceiling for a moment before readjusting and wrapping his torso around Red's forearm, his spine twisting with flexibility that surprises his brother.

"Boa constrictor?" he asks, looking at Purple.

"I guess," Purple answers with a tired shrug.

Mikey keeps his eyes on the human girl. She cautiously starts stepping closer, holding a hand out to him.

"Mikey? It's me, April. Please say you remember me...?"

Her voice wavers. She sounds so sad.

Humans can be sad?

Humans only cause sad. How can this human be sad?

Her eyes become glassy and blur over. She sniffles. Her nose is red and her cheeks are rosy. She was crying. She was very sad. Why is she sad now?

Did Mikey make her sad??

Mikey mews at her. He feels bad now. Her fingers touch his beak. He takes in the scent on her hands... lotions, perfume, coco butter from her curls. Mikey doesn't remember her face, or her voice. But he remembers these scents. And they do smell safe. He loves these smells, though he can't remember why. His eyes water, the scents activating some distant and foggy recollection of a warm embrace and a soft hand against his head and the feeling you get when laughing too hard.

She might be human... but he loved her once. He can love her again.

Mikey purrs, closing his eyes and leaning his face into the touch. He hears her stifle a sob, stroking her hand across his forehead and down his cheek. Tears pool in his eyes and seep through. Soon enough, she's wiping the tears away.

The humans were never gentle like this in the other place. They never loved him. But she loves him.

He was loved once. He is loved again.

Prev || Next

[thecuriousquest]

H1 with platonic Erwin? Not sure if it fits his character but I trust your imagination ❤️

Help

Platonic Yan!Erwin Smith x Fem!Reader

Request: “I would never hurt you. You know that, right?”

Warnings: Platonic Yandere, infantilization (kind of), non harmful punishment threats, bruises referenced

Yandere Alphabet List

Master List

Adventurer, this totally fits Yan!Erwin. Love this request so much. Thanks! 🖤🤘

—————————————————————————

The man thinks of you as a daughter, his little cadet. You are important to the cause, yes…but you are more important to him. Somehow, you managed to penetrate the impregnable walls of his heart. Now, he can’t even imagine letting you do anything more than helping with the horses, cleaning weapons, stocking supplies, and other things of that nature (all under his supervision of course). He couldn’t have you be around horses or rifles all by yourself.

But there comes a time, every once in a while, where you will plead your case to Erwin, asking him if he will allow you to go on a mission.

“Why do you wish to go? Are you so unsatisfied with the work you do here? You’re an important asset with the things you do.”

He understands your need for independence, but it’s too illogical. You’re just a child. You’re not thinking correctly. You’re not thinking at all. He will not allow you on the front lines in the face of those Titans.

“I just…wanna go.” It’s all you can manage, all you can muster as you speak too boldly to your commander.

“You just want to? Is that correct?”

Will he finally let you go? You nod your head fervently. You’ve seen how excited Eren gets when he goes off to kill Titans. You’ve heard rumors of how great Captain Levi and Mikasa perform. You’ve listened to tales of how Armin came up with this or that strategy. You just want to be a part of the cause, the greatness.

You feel like you’re ready.

But then Erwin sighs, and your hopes begin to sink. They sink deeper and deeper the longer the silence lingers between the two of you. You’re unable to help the taut stretch of your lips as you keep your E/C eyes focused on his sky blue orbs.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I cannot oblige your request. If you’d like to help, you can change the water buckets for the horses.”

Your eyes narrow at him, and he doesn’t seem all that sorry in the slightest. No, it was something said merely to help you accept the denial of your request.

“But that’s not fair! I’ve been here just as long as Connie, Armin, Mikasa, Eren-“

“I understand your frustrations. You’re a cadet of the 104th just like them, but I will not allow you to train and participate in field missions. It’s just not happening. It would be best if you accepted that.”

“Sir, please, I’ve been asking for this one chance for so long. You have to-“

Again, he cuts your rant short, not wanting to hear the rest of what you have to say. He’s heard it all before, and he’ll probably hear it again at some point. But for right now, he doesn’t care to listen.

“Enough, young lady! Do I need to take disciplinary action? Cadets who don’t know how to speak to authority often find themselves running laps until sundown or in a jail cell for the night. Is that what you need?”

“No, sir…” Most definitely not.

You look down and sigh. Your gaze lingering on the leather of your boots as you dig your toe into the ground. It’s never your intention to displease Commander Erwin because of how much time you spend with him, but you just wish so damn much that he would treat you like he treats the other scouts. Instead, he treats you like a child, a little girl who he needs to keep watch over.

Erwin keeps an eye on you, taking in your dejected response. A soul-sucking sigh comes from the deep depths of his own core, and he gets up and walks over to you. Cupping your cheek with one hand, he guides you to look up at him.

“There’s no need to look so sad. You’ll overcome this. Trust me. I’ll be right here every step of the way.”

Yes, because Erwin is always right there whether you want him to be or not.

“Yes, sir. I understand. Am I still in trouble?”

You can hear the low rumble of his laugh, finding what you just asked so amusing.

“Is that what you’re worried about? I would never hurt you. You know that, right?”

“Yes, Commander…I know.”

But do you? He has never…hit you before. But there have been times when he grabbed your wrist or arm so tightly he left bruised behind in the wake of his wrath. There have been times when he dragged you to your room and roughly shoved you into bed, telling you to go to sleep in a sharp manner.

“Then, there’s nothing to be anxious over,” he says in a low and calming tone as he brushes a lock of your H/C strands behind your ear, just as a doting father might.

But with Commander Erwin always looming behind you, always towering over you, there’s always a reason to be apprehensive. There’s no helping it.

[insert-witty-user-name-here]

the end is where we start from

Finally finished my post-season two Lokius reunion fic. Huge thank you to @lgwilt for beta reading. This fic had been languishing in my drafts folder for near six months and would have remained forever abandoned without our conversations, your encouragement, and your brilliant beta read of course. Thank you! 💖

Summary: Loki loses himself to the stories of Yggdrasil. Luckily, Mobius and Sylvie are there to bring him back.

Rating: G

Words: 6,027

Pairing: Loki/Mobius M. Mobius

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Loki Needs a Hug, Loki Gets a Hug, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon Fix-It, Reunions, Romantic Confession, Feelings Realization, Protective Mobius M. Mobius (over both Loki and Sylvie because of course he cares for them both), POV Loki, Author waxes on about the meaning of hope and life again and no one is surprised

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It’s cold at the end of time. Not technically. It’s not technically anything at the end of time. It’s not warm, not cold. There’s no day and no night, no changing of seasons. But it feels cold. Loki can’t quite explain why.

It’s a cold that seeps into every fiber of his being until eventually… he’s numb. Which is easier, he supposes, in a way.

Loki sits at the base of Yggdrasil. He’s long since lost sight of his black and gold throne as the timelines have grown. They’re wrapped around his legs, his arms, and are embedded so deep into his palms Loki isn’t sure he can let go of them if he tries. They stem from somewhere deep below—not even Loki knows where—and weave themselves together around him in a tapestry of stories, illuminating the darkness in an ethereal green, humming with life. They’re beautiful. He understands now why Sylvie fought so hard to free them—each thread shimmers with infinite potential. Loki’s heart swells with pride. They did it. Together he, Sylvie, and Mobius unleashed the multiverse and now everyone is free to write their own stories.

Protecting the timelines is a burden as much as it is a glorious purpose. While Loki can step into the timelines, he’s condemned to only ever observe the stories he’s sworn to protect. He can see the ocean but can’t feel the mist in his hair, see the birds floating in the air but can’t feel the wind on his face, see the sun… but he can’t feel its warmth. He will never feel warmth again—never feel anything again except for this bone-chilling numbness that follows him like a shadow in this sunless place. It hurts. More than he can bear. So he resists.

For a time.

Loki isn’t sure how long he lasts—time has simultaneously stretched on without end and stopped indefinitely—before he succumbs to temptation.

And he drifts.

Loki’s mind scatters across the timelines. He sees Thor with his adopted daughter. They make quite the pair. They’re both stubborn and too quick to action, but they’re brave, unrelenting in their fight to protect what matters most in the world: love. He sees his mother thriving in a world where the Dark Elves never rose back to power, a world where she continues her story long beyond that fateful day. He sees a flourishing Asgard. A Nine Realms united in peace. A Nine Realms consumed by war. A Ragnarök averted. A Ragnarök that destroys an entire timeline.

The multiverse is full of so many wondrous, magical, and horrendous things. The timelines grow, branching more and more offshoots until Loki is unable to keep up with the pace.

Until the stories in his mind become so jumbled, he can’t tell which memories are his and which are stories he’s only watched.

Until eventually he forgets his own name.

And then…

“Loki.”

Continue reading on AO3.

[stardusthuntress]

Concealed in a Touch

Tech x gn!reader (I’m trying to learn how to write this! Let me know if it’s bad or needs fixing!) 

Word Count: ~1k, ~3 pgs 

TW/Summary: reader is sorta depressed/anxious and reader’s love language is touch, and they are, as the title implies, touch starved! I guess you could call it a hurt-comfort fic? 

dividers by: @/saradika

You seemed off again. Tech wished he knew what to do. 

His mind suddenly raced backwards, dragging him back to all those moments when you comforted him with a touch on his arm or a hug or holding his hand. When it returned him to the present it suddenly it hit him. Your love language is touch. His is gift-giving and simply being there together, parallel play as it’s called in the neurodivergent world! But you needed physical contact. It wasn’t his forte, but he’d gladly do it for you, because you needed it. 

Tech snapped back into the moment and into motion. His datapad that had been in his hand was tossed haphazardly onto the workbench in front of him and with one hand he spun you towards him. Then, he used his hands on your arms and back to propel you into his chest. 

For a moment you cling to him tightly and he wished he’d realized this sooner. 

But then you startled and pulled back looking at him with concern in your eyes, “But… you don’t like touch,” you mumbled. 

“Were you going to go without something you need because you thought it bothered me?” He asked, genuinely concerned. 

“I don’t want to ask for something you don’t like. That’s not very nice. I can’t ask you to change for me, then I’m making you into something you’re not.” Your voice was barely more than a self-conscious mumble when it came out. 

“I am not changing into something that I am not, I am learning you.” He whispered and hugged tighter. “I love you.” 

He could tell you were holding back. “It is ok to need something. And it is ok to ask for it even if you are not sure if I will like it. I will always strive to find a way to make us both happy.” 

There was no holding back anymore, you burst into tears on his shoulder. He could hear her mumbling ‘thank you’ into his shoulder over and over again. Until it was replaced by sobs as you just cried. 

“I did not know you needed it this much,” his voice was muffled by your hair. 

“Neither did I. I’m sorry,” you sputtered between gasps, trying to calm down. 

“Do not be sorry. Let us find a way to make this work for both of us. Yes?” 

You nodded, still sniffling. 

“You have always liked it when I put you in my lap when I need your hands on a project, yes?” 

You shyly nodded. 

“From now on, I shall do that more often. I shall also sit in contact with you at mealtimes, and perhaps when we are simply working in the same room I can bring you into my lap then too.” 

“I wouldn’t want to get in your way!” Your nerves returned when you spoke up on this one, he noted. 

“Having you in my lap is not in my way. You are important to me.” He watched you shyly smile at the floor, his mind still whirring to find more things. “And if you need contact and I have not given it, please do not hesitate to… umm… snuggle into me, shall we say?” 

He felt you smile against his blacks and nod, but your calming patterns were still interspersed with gasping breaths. So he just held you for a while. 

He saw you dissociating again and gently, but quickly tugged you into his lap. Wrapping his arms around you to prove that he could indeed continue to work with you in his lap. As though it was he who needed you there, instead of the other way around. 

For a moment you both worked in a peaceful silence. 

You felt surges of gratefulness threatening to make you cry again, never having thought this was an option, you were so grateful for the love Tech found ways to show you. The grateful feelings wanted to spill from you again, trying to run down your cheeks. But you wanted to focus on the warmth of Tech instead. So you curled into him. 

Out of the corner of his eye he could see your legs shifting nervously, searching for something to wind around to ground you. So he took a moment to encourage you to loosen them enough to let them dangle over his knee and wrap around his own. Then, returning to work, just like he’s promised he would. 

As you calmed down, the tightness with which your legs wrapped around his loosened. 

Tech smiled, this was working out better than he expected. He had not anticipated being able to use the way in which you touched him to allow him additional insights into how you are feeling. Perhaps touch was more important to him than he realized. There was so much information concealed in a single touch from you, it made him smile.

Hunter still needed that thing fixed. Tech was usually done with small, almost menial tasks like this by now. Hunter went to find him to see how it was going. 

But what he found was not what he expected to find, but it washed all his concerns away. 

Tech was sitting in his pilots seat. Project spilling from Gonky onto the dash and still occupying space in his hands. But his lap, the usual space for projects, was otherwise occupied. Tech’s love sat curled in his lap, head on his shoulder. By the slow, methodical breaths Hunter could tell they were asleep. 

It appeared that Tech was still successfully working around his partner in his arms, content to keep them there and prove they were not in his way. 

But at the moment, Tech was clearly deep in thought, focused on the quiet sleeper. 

As Hunter watched from the shadows, Tech shifted his project to one hand and placed it atop Gonky. Slowly, doing his best not to wake them, Tech’s hands moved to the hip and hair of the loving partner curled into him, and he pressed a long kiss on their forehead. 

Maybe Hunter didn’t need that fixed right away. It could wait. Tech was working on something far more important right now anyway. 

Please don’t steal my work! I pour my heart into these so if you like it please reblog to share instead of reposting it! And NO dropping it into an AI to finish it for me! That’s stealing my work and feeding it to an AI without my consent. It is not okay to give an AI something you didn’t write yourself! 

taglist: @bambambunny @cw80831

[dairy-farmer]

Gen or Batfam/Tim.

Tim had been suicidal for as long as he can remember: the aggressive neglect from his parents -and probable emotional abuse- made him feel unlovable and unwanted. The only reason he kept putting it off was going out to take pictures of Batman and Robin.

Maybe he would have done something after Jason died, but Gotham needed Batman so Tim took up the job. He started making plans again after Jason showed back up, but Jason's relationship with the rest of the family was strained, so Tim stuck around to try and fix it. Then Damian showed up and Bruce disappeared, so Tim had to go and rescue Bruce.

Finally, finally, the Wayans are back together: Bruce is home and healed up, Jason has reconnected with the family and come to an understanding with Bruce, and Damian is starting to become a real boy recover from his League related trauma and start to feel secure in his position in the family. So Tim decides it's time and he can extract himself from the Bats - preferably in a way that won't be too harmful or traumatic- and finally get the peace he's always wanted.

It's important to note that Tim doesn't feel like he has to/ should die because he's no longer useful or anything like that. Tim is completely aware that he is incredibly intelligent and skilled, and that he is an excellent vigilante and CEO. But he doesn't feel loved or wanted, and he's just so tired of that, so he's decided that he wants to die.

So Tim goes about getting his affairs in order: updating his will, selling off any properties and such his parents had left him when they died, updating or closing cases and passing on patrol routes, ect. Since Kon and Bart are still dead, and Red Robin isn't well known outside of Gotham, Tim doesn't have to worry about other vigilante groups.

Tim had rather expected that none of his family the Wayans would notice or care what he was doing. He was wrong. They all love and care about Tim, even if they're not always the best at showing it, so of course they notice when his behavior changes. They don't put everything together at first, but after a few weeks and discussing with each other (and possibly spying on Tim and/or going through his files) they finally figure out that Tim is planning to 'leave Gotham, find himself y'know? So don't worry if you don't hear from me for a while' ... So they start planning too.

Finally the day comes where Tim plans to nonchalantly leave, with excuses that hopefully will put off suspicion until they all forget he even existed. He sits down for a last meal with the whole family, and is so focused on enjoying this last night with his family that he doesn't notice the covert looks the Wayne men are all giving each other. He doesn't really notice anything is off until the meal is over and he goes to stand up and finds that he's so so dizzy and tired. He quickly slips into unconsciousness.

Tim wakes up in a room he's never seen before, with his family the Waynes gathered around him. They explain that Tim is part of the family, that they all love him, that they found out about his play on and refuse to let Tim go through with it. The room is completely suicide proof, with dozens upon dozens of cameras with at least one bat watching to make sure he's safe. Tim is not allowed to hurt himself, leave them, or die. They won't let him.

I haven't decided either way whether or not the bat boys already had sexual feelings for Tim they were hiding, don't have any sexual feelings for him, or start to develop them after locking him up for his own good. But I like the idea that along the way of trying to convince Tim that he is loved and wanted, and keeping him safe, one or two or all of them may decide to use physical love to try and convince him (or maybe they hope that a child might force Tim to stay alive...)

👀👀👀👀 there's just something so dark about tim wanting to kill himself and waiting until he can only to be essentially be held prisoner by all of the bats who realized what he was planning. they're putting him under constant surveillance and keeping him chained up at the slightest indication of behavior that might be deemed 'self harmful' as if that's supposed to somehow make him NOT want to follow through with his plans even more. because originally tim was just tired. every small thing felt like having to climb a mountain, he was tired, he wanted to sleep, wanted to just lie in bed like he was a piece of furniture. tim wanted to die because he was tired and didn't see life ever becoming something he would be excited for or looking forward to but now he's a prisoner, not allowed to do anything, and forced to perform menial tasks to prove to them that he's getting 'better'.

and the bats, i can fully see them convincing tim that they love him romantically as a way to keep him alive even if its not true. one of them deciding they will make the 'sacrifice' of fucking tim and hopefully knocking him up so that tim will stay alive at least a few more months for the sake of the 'baby' because tim always has yielded to their wants. just the deep lying sinister undertones of it all no matter how they all try to frame it is so good!!!

[satureja13]

Beltane - Part 7 It all starts -> here (incl prequel)

A 'little' later than Ji Ho and Jeb, Noxee, Saiwa and Jack at the campsite got up too. And when poor Jack stumbled out of the tent, he almost choked at the sight of his beloved Noxee! She's so hot! Saiwa: "Noxee! Have merci!" Noxee: "Aww, our poor baby! I'll change into something more 'appropriate' and make us some churros, how does that sound?" And then she vanished and Jack cursed under his breath for not having a grip on himself. He wanted her to stay like this, just for a little longer... He's barely even seen her properly! Time he gets back ingame so he can meet the Queen again! And Lou. Distracting himself from Kiyoshi is already working just fine, that's a good sign!

And while Noxee was making the churros (that's the only dish she is able to 'cook'), Saiwa and Jack wandered around the campsite. If it's not too draining for Ji Ho and Vlad to let them travel around in the Otherworld with the TTT (Teleporting TukTuk), they should come here more often. Saiwa even found the bunny again!

Saiwa: "He's so cute, quiet and soft. Just the opposite of Jack ;P " Jack: "You know, everything we talked about yesterday, about not being able to get rid of Kiyoshi because of that fated mates thing, me prospering and unlocking my Super Soldier abilities. All that stuff frightened and intimidated me beyond measure. But!"

Saiwa: "But what?" Jack: "But you, my precious friend, who is like a dearest brother to me, already unlocked my ability to decide to let myself not get hurt when others throw their meanness at me :3 " Saiwa: "..."

Noxee: "Aww how sweet! Hahaha yeah, it's been like that since you two met at the lab three years ago!" Jack: "Right you are. Three long years Saiwa accepted many hardships to poke and pester me. As if he had seen it coming that I was going to need it one day ^^ I never got upset!"

Jack: "And I'm very positive that I, the Super Soldier, will suceed in my quest to defy Kiyoshi's influence over me and heal!" Noxee: "I think you should better use your Super Soldier powers to run from Saiwa before he throws that bathtub at you hahaha!"

And then Jack ran 🏃 But I think he has a point. Saiwa is the only one who gets upset at Jack's antics and scolds him. But it never hurt Jack (erm at least mentally. He gets hurt physically from time to time when he's running from Saiwa ^^'). He can work with that.

They ran a lap around the lagoon and then breakfast was ready. Saiwa was still a bit upset. And it didn't make it any better that Jack suggested to try the I-don't-give-others-power-over-my-feelings method on himself hahaha! Noxee: "Babies, let's eat!"

Noxee made very special churros for her Babies! They are sparkling like crazy! Noxee: "Made with extra love by an extra Queen for my extra Babies <3 " Saiwa is lost in thought. He has to face Jeb again soon. And then they'd have to part again when they head back home to Tomarang. He doesn't know what's worse. And Jack wishes he could eat Noxee's churros more often - without Greg at that, too...

Even though they are not blood related, they are like a little, dysfunctional family 💖

Outtakes

I mean, I get it that Saiwa refused to stay sit to eat because the flowers are placed at the counter. But why Jack? There is nothing! And why is Noxee eating while sitting even though there is an object at her counter? Omg this is so annoying! -.-

'Cerco l'estate tutto l'anno e all'improvviso eccola qua. Lei è partita per le spiagge e sono solo quassù in città. Sento fischiare sopra i tetti, un aeroplano che se ne va.'

'All year I'm looking for the summer and all of a sudden, here it is. She left for the beach and I'm alone, up here, in the city I hear wistling above the roofs an airplane that is leaving.'

Azzurro - Adriano Celentano

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest Current Chapter: 🕹️ 'The One' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

[i-love-scarameowche]

may I please request Yandere Geto with a sorcerer gn reader who escaped. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.

Thank you for your time.

depravity

A/N: this was nice to write, thank you for requesting it!<33

TW: kidnapping, murder mentions, nonconsensual nonsexual touching, yandere Geto, gn reader.

Divider credits: @cafekitsune

You really thought you lost him, that he would never find you. But he did. Of course he did. He always will. He always has.

You were too worried about getting a hotel room. But it's not like you have any money to do that in the first place. You've just been walking from place to place, too scared to stay in one for longer than resting. You left around two days ago, and you started to believe that you could find a place, get a job, and move far away where he would never find you. You wouldn't mind changing your name too much, and being a sorcerer is so draining. Maybe you could settle down, and date without wondering if it'll be the last time you'll see your partner every time you go to work.

It was too good to be true, really. The little bit of hope you had left was crushed underneath the echoing footsteps of Suguru. You would recognize them anywhere. They're soft, like he's approaching an injured animal, yet the sound is deafening to your ears.

The pangs of hunger in your stomach could never compare to the feeling that you get whenever Suguru touches you. You've tried to understand him, you get it, you do. The feeling of working so hard for someone who will never care, who will only hurt and hate you. The feeling of wanting to protect the people you love from that someone and failing so hard. But you could never commit the acts he has. The thought of the lives of siblings, parents, and lovers being crumpled underneath your feet like a piece of worthless paper makes you want to cry.

"Get up." Suguru hums, his hand holding your bicep. He knows you haven't eaten for a while-he had to force feed you when you were with him because you didn't want to eat food given to you by him-and that you've been sleeping in the cold. He could try to understand, and he has, but to him, you're only being fooled by your empathy. He was like you, once. He's only trying to help.

"I said get up." Suguru hisses, his tone harsher but his voice quieter as he roughly pulls you up. You then try to tug your arm out of his grasp, wanting him to let go of you. "Let me go," You mumble, trying to sound tough but you feel like crying. Your eyes are watering as you continue to pull away from Suguru. He just grabs you, pulling you into his arms. He missed you, so much. He's warm, the hug is tight, but it's so comfortable. You hate him, you really do. But maybe you could relax. Just for a little.

But you can't. You want to be warm and loved and safe. But not like this. Not by him.

You start to push at Suguru's chest and shoulders, but you're weak from days of hunger that was satiated. And even if you weren't, you could never overpower him. You know that. Why do you try? Suguru doesn't want to hurt you. Though sometimes you just give him no other choice.

"Stop it." Suguru states simply, closing his eyes in annoyance as he tries to not hurt you. He's angry, rightfully so. You left. And he's been so stressed out, wondering where you are, if you've been okay.

You quickly feel so tired again, so worn out. You want to keep struggling, want to keep fighting. But you're so tired. Your body aches and your eyes burn. Suguru picks you up, you're limp in his arms. You feel defeated, like you're betraying yourself. But you can't help it. You tell yourself to just pretend. That it'll be better if you pretend.

And you do. You pretend that you're in the wanted embrace of your warm lover, and not in the arms of your cold captor. You feel Suguru pick you up, your eyes closed now. You don't want to look at him.

You don't remember falling asleep, but you wake up in the room you were kept in before. Wrapped in warm blankets on the bed, Suguru's bed. And you're right back where this all started. Suguru's never really punished you before, always doting on you. He's stern, but his punishments are just a slap on the wrist. He seemed angrier this time, though. Your arms are sore where Suguru held them, maybe it was just from sleeping on a cold concrete floor this whole time, but when you pull up your sleeves you see bruises, so that's obviously not true.

You lay there for a while, still wrapped in the blankets before you notice some food on the nightstand. There's a note from Suguru like always. Should you eat it? You don't know. It's not like you'll ever escape anyway, you might as well just give in.

Notes : I didn't know how I should end it so the end might be a little weird

[megansabode]

All You Had To Do Was Stay

And the one person keeping Izuku from leaving was Katsuki.

Katsuki. His Kacchan. The boy with the anger issues, with the spiky blonde hair, with the vermillion eyes that complimented Izuku’s viridian.

Because if Izuku left, he wouldn’t get the gentle kisses, the ruffling of his hair, the soft-spoken words in his ear anymore.

If Izuku left, another part of himself would die. And he’d already lost too much.

-

Izuku wants to save Shigaraki. But Katsuki is in his way of that being possible.

OR

Izuku wants to leave and Katsuki no no wanna

wc: 951

bkdk oneshot, originally posted on ao3 @megansabode

contains: izuku centric, canon divergence, rough kissing, kissing with tongue, angst, hurt/no comfort, bad ending, izuku leaving

Izuku hadn’t felt alive in a long time. Well, he did sometimes. But not entirely. And it ate him whole.

He’d promised a long time ago that he wouldn’t leave. Not again. Not after he became a vigilante and left Class 1-A.

“Mm. Izuku.” Katsuki mumbled in his sleep, his hand moving over the boy’s chest. “Stay.”

That was why he could never bring himself to leave. Because every night, when Katsuki was asleep, he’d say one word.

Stay.

But Izuku couldn’t. Not when Shigaraki was a world-wide threat and not while Izuku didn’t know himself whether he was going to be the one to kill the villain or not. Or, whether he was going to kill Shigaraki at all.

And the one person keeping Izuku from leaving was Katsuki.

Katsuki. His Kacchan. The boy with the anger issues, with the spiky blonde hair, with the vermillion eyes that complimented Izuku’s viridian.

Because if Izuku left, he wouldn’t get the gentle kisses, the ruffling of his hair, the soft-spoken words in his ear anymore.

If Izuku left, another part of himself would die. And he’d already lost too much.

He sighed. He needed to leave—he couldn’t put Katsuki in any more danger. “Kacchan.” He muttered, tapping the boy’s shoulder.

No answer. He sighed again, and shook Katsuki awake, gently.

Katsuki groaned, opening his eyes. “Izuku?” He asked groggily, looking up at him. “What—why’d you wake me up?”

“I—I just wanted to look at you for a bit.” Katsuki nodded, then his eyes narrowed. He sat up quickly. “What?” Izuku asked.

“You’re leaving again.” Izuku opened his mouth, then closed it. “Don’t give me that fucking look, Izuku, you’re leaving, aren’t you?” Izuku sighed, bowing his head in shame. “For fucks sake.”

“I want you to be safe-“

“So stop playing hero!” Katsuki shouted, grabbing Izuku’s hands. “All you’ll do by leaving is make me feel like shit again. Do you want that to happen?” Izuku shook his head. “So stop thinking about it.”

“I have to, Kacchan.” Izuku said. “As One For All’s successor-“

“Fuck One For All! This is about us! You and me! Don’t give up before we’ve even started!” Izuku stared into Katsuki’s eyes, and Katsuki stared back, plea lacing his voice. “Stay.”

There it was. That word again. That word that jabbed through Izuku’s chest and punctured his heart.

He shook his head. “I can’t. Not when Shigaraki is an international threat. Not when I’m the one that should be out there fighting him, helping him.”

“Stay.”

“They’ll kill him!” Izuku yelled.

“Yeah? He’s basically All For One now-“

“He’s just a kid! Like you, like me, he—he’s just a kid! He was manipulated, and groomed, and changed, but all he is is a messed up kid! Like you, like me!” Izuku shouted.

“Kacchan, I can’t just let them kill him.” He said.

“Take me with you.” Katsuki pleaded, his grip tightening on Izuku’s hands.

“I can’t do that.”

“Why?”

“He’ll kill you.”

“But-“

“No!” Izuku yelled. “I’m not losing you!”

Katsuki stared at him, then said in a solemn voice, “And you don’t think I’m afraid of losing you, too?” Izuku pursed his lips. “This is a suicide mission, Izuku-“

“Yeah. And he’ll kill me or I’ll die trying to save Shimura Tenko. That’s my purpose.”

“To die?” Katsuki yelled.

Izuku narrowed his eyes. “Everyone’s purpose is to die-“

“You’re not even fucking seventeen yet, Izu!” Izuku’s heart stopped everytime Katsuki shortened his name. “Kids who are sixteen don’t die fighting a war! Not usually!”

“I’m not a normal kid.” Izuku bit.”

Katsuki scoffed. “Well, no fucking shit. My point is- my point is that I fucking need you, okay? For fuck’s sake, Izuku, I love you.”

Izuku stared at Katsuki. Then, he got up, pulling his hands out of Katsuki’s grip. “Izuku?”

Izuku pulled on his costume, then Gran Torino’s scarf. “You—you’re not even going to say it back?” Izuku paused, then walked over to the door. “Can’t you be selfish for one second of your damn life?”

“I am being selfish. If I was being selfless, I would’ve stayed here with you and let Shigaraki die at the hands of a hero or All For One.” Izuku said.

“Then let me be selfish.” Katsuki got up and walked over to Izuku, grabbing his face. “And make you stay.”

“You can’t change my mind, Kacchan.” Yes you can, Izuku thought, But I won’t let you.

“Please. I love you.” And there it was again. The words that made Izuku want to break himself into pieces for Katsuki to have all for himself.

Izuku almost said it. The response. But he didn’t. He just stared into Katsuki’s eyes, maintaining a cold gaze against Katsuki’s beggard one. Izuku fought the urge to go back to bed and pretend that this all never happened.

Because Katsuki would let him do that. Katsuki would let him do anything. Just not leave.

“I need you.” Katsuki said. Izuku grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him forward, almost instinctively. The boy’s lips met in a crash, and they collided roughly.

Tongue clashed against tongue. Fingernails dug into waists. Hands went up shirts.

And eventually, Izuku pulled away, then moved backwards. “Goodbye. Katsuki.”

“No- no!” Katsuki yelled, running forward. But he was met with a door. “Izuku!” He pulled it open and ran out, but there was nothing to be seen.

No Izuku. No boyfriend. No lover. Nobody.

He fell to the floor and sobbed. A few hours later, he woke up, and he went back to bed, his hand on Izuku’s side, desperately searching for the boy.

But he was nowhere to be found.

[lefetellc]

Eerie Dating other Eris-Sonas :3

Okay so after the first round of dating, I think it's time we get some sonas who get a glimpse of a submissive-like Eerie (for varying reasons) Also, there isn't much art here; I did plan to draw them with Eerie, but I lost energy from so much Eerie lol

With the intro over, let the Eris games... begin!

.

.

First is Lee by @0x0y0z0

Instead of highschool, Eerie meets Lee at the start of college

I imagine that instead of Eerie approaching first, it would be Lee

Lee is either extremely forward or always beating around the bush because of his excessive awkwardness

Now, the reason Lee would confess to Eerie could be for differing reasons

One could be that Lee wanted to enjoy a more extroverted-life and get over his extreme awkwardness

Another could be that Lee is interested in Eerie's... eerie behavior. Eerie is always walking around college with a thick backpack and a constant aroma of gunpowder from him. For those reasons, Lee concluded that Eerie was secretly carrying guns around school

Either way, Eerie would welcome Lee with open arms and a cheery :3 smile

To Eerie, Lee was a loner with a dark aesthetic. And if you know anything about Eerie, you'd know he loves that dark theme

Eerie would talk to Lee about joining his friend group after they talk a bit more, probably in passing through classes

When Lee reluctantly agrees, Eerie excitedly bring him to meet Villa, Desmond, and Seph

Judging from everyone's attitude, everyone would accept Lee into the friend group

Villa and Desmond will have their suspicions

Eerie has brought certain... people to school. And they'd all leave with that familiar toxic, smoke-like scent Eerie carried.

After hanging out more; weekdays, weekends, and pretty much any free hour, Eerie would buddy up with Lee

Eerie loved hanging out with such a quiet loner. In comparison to Milo (who isn't in this story) Milo is also a loser like Lee in terms of awkwardness, but what Lee has over Milo is style

It's one of the only reasons Eerie keeps Lee around

Eerie enjoys touching and messing with Lee's hair and clothes. Pocketing buttons and photos taken to laugh at later with his other 'friends'

When Eerie got too close and intimate with Lee, Lee would shoot him a deathly gaze and force Eerie off

The sudden change would excite Eerie, prompting him to hit and whisper in Lee's ear

Similar to other sonas, Eerie wanted to incite something in Lee so he'd do something drastic and eye-catching

After probing and picking at Lee's skin for a whole year, he'd crack and finally pin Eerie down.

Eerie gulps, feeling his heart race at the shorter boy on top of him

The cold tiles beneath his back didn't ease his heart, and oh god, he loved it

He loved every second of having that excitement when Lee finally cracked and bared his teeth

This is how their relationship goes. Eerie would constantly step on Lee's coattails to get him to dominate Eerie again-- get his heart pumping more and more

Once Lee gets used to the typical tricks and plays, Eerie steps up his teasing to abusive levels

Their toxic relationship probably 'ends' with Lee dramatically hurting Eerie so the tall man would be sent to the hospital

But even then, Eerie would only run back again only this time with actual guns and a hot fighting spirit to go again. Eerie wants to prolong that adrenaline rush as long as possible.

Eerie sees Lee as a game to give him more excitement, similar to those life-or-death horror movies where the stakes are high.

He won't be letting Lee go anytime soon, as much as he punches or hurts Eerie back

Next is Portia by @emipotato :3

Similar to Eerie, Portia would be holed up inside her house all day and night.

Eerie found that interesting: so other parents rob kids of their childhood, huh?

He'd feel a small level of connection with Portia, but he'd never outwardly approach her because she wasn't interesting *enough*

It was in middle school that Eerie caught Portia stalking him; he felt grossed out but mildly intrigued. What made her do such a thing?

That was all he felt in middle school; he never let Portia know he was keeping tabs on her

In High school is when Eerie finally let himself be free. He'd bring guns to school and vibrate with excitement every time people curiously stepped closer to his bag.

Nobody knew he had such things inside his bag; his mom and dad didn't know either, even though they were the ones who bought the equipment

On an especially cold day, Eerie left his p.e clothes in his bookbag and opted to stay in his regular outfit

When the period finally ended, he returned to his bag and found the entire thing a mess. The magazine which was already full of bullets was missing one. He knew; he counted each of them every night with joy

His clothes were messed with aswell; there were muddy marks and ruffles in his original perfectly folded unfirom.

He eyed the students around; who could've touched it? Various kids played on the field and got themselves dirty from the mud

After all, it had rained yesterday

He scowled and furiously demanded the person who did it to stand up; he didn't talk about his gun, but people were still firghtened

He noted how nobody stand up

The following night, he made sure every student was innocent by telling his 'friends' to keep a watchful eye on them. If they complied properly, he'd let them shoot a few shots at his shooting range at his house

And complied they did; he got reports from each guy telling him how their target's bags were empty of the bullet. None of them had dirty hands either.

He was even more infuriated - so much that he was tempted to shoot one of his friends right then and there- but he held back and gave them his catty smile.

"I want you to fucking think; use that dumbass brain of yours for once and understand what I'm saying. Find the stupid asshole who stole my bullet and bring them to me or else I'll have your head on the news tomorrow."

His friends nodded weakly, going their separate ways. Originally, they planned to coordinate a random student to put the blame on; that was until a mysterious girl stepped up from the shadows

She confessed: "I did it"

They looked dumbfounded. It was really that easy?

They looked at her skeptically. One of the boys recognized her as that sickly kid who always arrived late from school with a dcotor's note. Not to mention the terrible earthy smell coming from her.

Nevertheless, they brought her back to Eerie.

Eerie raised a brow, interested in why an ugly girl like her would do such a thing.

However, it was when it clicked; the earthy smell coming from her came from the rain that came down yesterday. That meant she was outside; for what reason? Only Eerie could answer

Outside his window the previous night, he saw her standing in the rain outside his window.

He couldn't deny that her desperation was amusing. Not exciting, but amusing. Like a joke you'd have when you're breaking up the silence

Eerie decided that he'd let her hang around. Their relationship would be very ambiguous, since Eerie never told anyone about them officially dating. In fact, you could say it was a one-sided relationship

Eerie didn't bother texting Portia back; he didn't gift her anything nor did he comfort her when she got sick from waiting in the rain weather

Eerie made her wait; waiting and waiting until college when he finally told her to fuck off.

Eerie thought she was amusing, but now she was just a clown wearing a tatterd old uniform. The joke wasn't funny anymore and Eerie was finally letting his emotions out.

His memory is very blurry after that.

Eerie couldn't recall much other than Portia saying how he needed to get his mind straight

After that, Eerie found himself being isolated in a basement (Typical Yandere behavior perhaps?)

Eerie would remain in that basement for a year, being restless and whining about 'entertainment' and how 'disgusting and boring' everything was.

Portia would have him inside her basement for however long she wanted; the darkness would corrode at Eerie's will at some point, hopefully

Over that timespan, Portia would dote on Eerie and give him love and affection so she'd be seen as more of a romantic partner for him rather than a clown

This may be ooc for Portia, but for her this was her breaking point. She'd been ignored for so long, and after getting a small glimpse of a romantic life with Eerie, she couldn't let go of it

That's where their relationship ends or rather begins, in Portia's eyes

Eerie is locked up and bound inside her basement, surrendered to her continuous methods of swaying him

It's unknown if he actually ever submits, but he's very close to. The unbearing loneliness makes him crave something, anything exciting

Portia was his only entertainment in that isolation

In the end, Eerie forever sees Portia as entertainment or some gag to laugh at. I doubt Portia will ever pursue a real relationship with Eerie.

This marks the end of Eerie dating pt2!

Hopefully I can get through some more Eris-sonas, but who knows *shrug*

:3

[aroaceleovaldez]

Every description about Nico (especially the canon ones) describing him as “cold” can personally fight me. Nico is jaded, yes, and often closed-off and sometimes stand-offish and defensive but he is not "cold”. He cares SO SO SO MUCH about EVERYONE. He loves and cares with his entire heart constantly and that is a core part of his character. He doesn’t often make public shows of his affection but he takes care to be kind when it matters and doesn’t hide that he does care (usually, the only exception really being him being in the closet, but even then he only hid his crush specifically and not the fact that Percy is important to him). He fine with hugging his friends in front of a crowd and will sit with strangers at a campfire just so they’re not alone. I mean, heck, he’s an extrovert! We know this! He actively seeks out people and gets lonely very quickly and easily! If he can’t talk to living people he will chat with the dead! That’s how much he thrives on being social!

The only time Nico has ever been actively “cold” was the couple of months between TTC and BoTL when he was actively mourning Bianca. Nico is not “cold.” He loves so much and he does show it, just in his own way.

[mistymonster]

The only way I can think of that would make the whole situation between Link and his grandma work in wind waker without making her part of the problem is if he honestly just disappeared after healing her with the fairy and didn’t show up again until after the final battle (sneaking past at night to get to the savage labyrinth). Did she know the full extent of what was happening? I don't think so.

After witnessing what happened to greatfish isle, it’s believable to me that Link would try to avoid outset in order to not draw attention to it. Maybe he got letters from grandma and just never responded.

When it comes down to it, I want Link’s grandma to be a good parent. I want her to not know. So after wind waker Link can have an adult there who’s truly been trying to look out for him.

[quietwingsinthesky]

the amount of time i spend thinking about Even carrying the metacrisis doctor’s fob watch is really quite disproportionate to how much ive fleshed out that part of the story in my head