#die eventually and open the wounds all over again

[skunkes]

funny thing is that genuinely canonically talon is bi with an immense preference for women to the point where he cant really imagine any long term stuff with a man... but since ive whisked him away to the brain zone its like ok but what if he was safe and happy with another guyyy and meeeeee 🫶

[bensolosbluesaber]

Nowhere to Run: Part 1 (Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader)

Pairings: Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader

Warnings: Hints of suicidal ideation on reader’s part, Fang stuff (Miguel uses fangs on reader), Chasing, Miguel is maybe ooc (I only saw the movie once and was mostly trying to keep from audibly moaning every time he was on-screen), Miguel and reader fight - he does some damage, Poison, Wounds, Not edited (but I will come back for some minor edits later on), Let me know if I missed anything

Summary: After the collapse of your universe, you resort to jumping around the multiverse to survive. Evolution gave you the powers needed to escape your universe. Technology of your own design stopped the glitches. But you haven’t found a way to escape the man relentlessly hunting you across every universe - Spider-Man 2099. ~2,500 words

Angst, hurt/comfort, eventual happy ending

A/N: This is for all of us who watched the Nueva York chase scene/train sequence and thought ‘when do I get to be Miles?’ This is dedicated to the Miguel O’Hara editors on TikTok - you guys are doing god’s work over there (especially with the captions). There shouldn’t be any spoilers in here beyond what was shown in trailers, but tread as carefully as you feel you need.

EDIT: Part 2

--

A persistent tingle deep in your mind vibrated madly the closer Spider-Man 2099 was to you. It was your Spidey-sense warning you of danger.  For the first few months, you managed to stay several universe’s ahead of the terrifying Spider-Man variant, but after running for months with no one to help you, dodging the Spider-Person in each universe, and growing more exhausted with each portal you opened, 2099 was catching up.

He was catching up quite literally. The man was a few blocks behind you, pursuing you through the streets of a Queens in a universe you had never seen before. Buildings were built into trees. The entire city was a perfect symbiosis between nature and technology. It was beautiful, but there was no time to appreciate it. The time on your wrist ticked down. Seventy-six seconds. Seventy-five.

You shot out another web. It caught a window, and you took a sharp corner then another trying to lose the hunter.

Seventy seconds until you could safely open another portal. Well safe was a relative measure. Ideally you would allow a full day between jumps, but if you only had twelve hours, well then odds of survival rose to about fifty-fifty. Anything less than twelve hours and implosion was basically guaranteed.

Sixty-eight. You extended your legs for more momentum, rolled in the air, shot out two webs and used them to zip forward. Sixty-two. 2099 was fast, faster than you. You didn’t dare to look back to see if he was still in pursuit.

He protected the multiverse, kept it from collapsing in on itself, and you put the entire web of connection at risk just by being alive outside of your universe. You didn’t begrudge 2099 for what he thought he had to do. Maybe it was true that your presence could cause a universe to collapse, but you were careful not to stay for too long, not to interact with the Spider of that universe, not to fight any super-villains. If he could just understand that you were careful, that you didn’t want a multiversal collapse anymore than he did, maybe he would be reasonable.

Then again, maybe not. He was relentless, and from what little you had heard of Spider-Man 2099, he wasn’t one for talk and negotiation.

Fifty-five. You dived down, shot another web, swung again. You could never go back to your world’s boundless emptiness and not another living soul. That thought kept your exhausted muscles working. Fifty. The void was all that remained of your collapsed universe, a void in which you could not die but where no one else could live.

Forty-eight. Forty seven. This block was all future, half-built apartment buildings.

Thirty. You’d long ago lost your suit. All that remained was the mask that obscured your face. You must look ridiculous swinging around in stolen street-clothes: a baggy sweatshirt, leggings, dirty sneakers.

Twenty-one. Nearly there. Just a few-

A solid mass of muscle stole the breath from your lungs and flattened you into a cement wall. Claws shattered the cement beside your head into a fine gray powder. A hand closed around your throat, and you were crushed between the blue and red clad Spider-Man and the wall.

He was pure muscle. This was the closest you’d ever been to 2099, and his sheer size was terrifying. The red lines on his mask narrowed with his eyes as he studied you.

Eighteen. You pushed at his broad chest, struggling desperately to fight him off, but he was enhanced too and probably well-fed and rested - two things you were not.

“Stop fighting me,” 2099 growled into your ear, his voice a deep rumble that you felt in his chest.

“I won’t go back.” You choked out the words while you planted a knee against him and tried to kick him away. Your efforts were utterly useless. Quite literally, you could feel muscles rippling across his chest and arms as he held you against the wall while you trid to wriggle free.

In the corner of your eye, you watched the red numbers tick down. Six. Five. Was it even possible? It had to be.

2099 brought you forward then slammed you into the wall again. The impact made your head spin. The red lines of his mask doubled and tripled. He was trying to get something around your wrist.

“Hold still!”

Two.

With the last vestige of strength left in your body, you brought a hand to his face and shot a wad of webbing at his eyes. He growled and stopped his attempt to hand-cuff you - or whatever he was doing - to wipe the webbing away. For a second he was distracted. You imagined the glowing golden portal. Closed your eyes. Energy sparked in your body, coursed through your veins and arm. You shot a web at the wall behind you. It shimmered gold, dim gold, but still gold.

There was a moment where you thought it hadn't worked. Then the wall crumbled away and you felt wind whip you backward as a bright gold light filled the space. 2099 reached for you, claws extended. Four knife-like talons dug into your shoulder, ripping through the ratty sweater, digging into your skin, and tearing four long bloody stripes into your flesh as the portal drug you away..

You planted both feet on his stomach and kicked him off. A bright red web shot out from 2099’s hand to tangle in a tree. The last thing you saw was 2099 falling then catching himself before you tumbled away from him and toward a new universe.

--

It was raining on this new Earth. Actually, ‘raining’ was a bit of an understatement. It was absolutely pouring, and you were soaked before you hit the ground. Hard.

You hadn't been as focused as you needed to be, and the portal had opened in the sky and dropped you ten feet to the roof of a towering building in some universe’s version of New York. You couldn’t tear the mask from your face quick enough as you gasped desperately for air. 2099 was strong, and he’d smashed you half a foot into solid cement.

Your ribs ached. So did your head for that matter. But it was the dull ache spreading across your shoulder, down your arm, and seeping through your muscles like liquid fire that really made you afraid.

The gray of your stolen sweater was soaked in crimson blood. Carefully, you pushed the stained fabric over your shoulder.

Shit. Shit!

Beneath the torn fabric, your skin glowed a sickly, dare you say radioactive red - the same red as 2099’s suit. His talons must have been poisoned, and now that poison was making it’s way through your body, causing unknown damage and immense pain. There had to be a lab on this Earth. Right? If you could only get there, you were smart enough to whip up an antidote.

But as you stood, it was obvious that you wouldn’t be going anywhere. The poison was potent and fast-acting. Insanely, you wondered if it was really poison or if you should be calling it venom. It didn’t matter, because a moment after gaining your feet, your legs failed. You careened forward and nearly smashed your head again, only just catching yourself before slowly laying down in the rainwater.

City lights sparkled in the distance and reflected in the puddle forming around your head. Purple and blues and few bright yellows. Not a bad view if this was how you died. If only the poison weren’t so painful. You wanted to scream, but you lacked the strength.

A familiar tingle shot across your spine a second before the bright gold light of a portal obscured the reflection of the city lights. No! He was so close when you jumped universe’s. He must have tracked you; no wonder he hadn't bothered to chase you through the portal.

You scrambled backwards weakly, your feet struggling for purchase on the slick roof as the broad shouldered man appeared. He was wreathed in gold light. You couldn’t jump again, couldn’t even stand, could barely drag your body through the rain as Spider-Man 2099 strode closer.

“Nowhere to run,” he said. His voice was flat, like he took no pleasure in finally having you trapped.

“I won’t go back!” You tried to sound tough, strong, but your voice cracked over the words. “There’s nothing there. I can’t. I’d rather die than- than go back to nothing. 2099, don’t send me back”

Your fingers felt the ledge of the building and empty air beyond it. Poison. Fall. The clawed Spider-Man. A slow descent into madness trapped in the empty and endless remains of your home universe. A fall seemed fastest. But you didn’t want to. You were scared. You didn’t really want to die. Your shoulder throbbed and head filled with fog. The skin was glowing such a bright red you could see it in the corner of your eye.

In the brief moment you hesitated, he was on you. 2099’s red webs wrapped around your chest, and he yanked you forward and away from the ledge. You crumpled at his feet, and he just stared down at you through that mask. His blue and red mask swam in your vision as you stared up at him. Was it the rain that was so cold? Or was it the poison? No, venom. Poison? Venom?

2099’s face got bigger as he knelt beside you.

“What is this?” He pulled at the torn sweater, his gaze falling on the bright red mottling your skin.

Miguel O’Hara had never seen his claws damage anyone like this. There was no venom in them… unless in whatever universe you had come from something about them was venomous. It was possible. His fangs were venomous, that he did know.

Miguel pulled off his mask, the adrenaline of the chase fading while he watched you struggle for life. He’d meant to stop you, take you back to base, figure out where you’d come from… not kill you. He ran his tongue over one of the fangs protruding from his mouth.

The next thing you knew, 2099 was sitting next to you and pulling you onto his lap. It might have all been a dream, you couldn’t tell. The lights were so beautiful. Your head lolled to one side, your whole body limp as a ragdoll in his muscular arms. His face filled your vision and blocked out the pretty lights.

He had a strong jawline, dark curls, sharp cheekbones, a broad nose, and were those fangs? And were his eyes glowing red? Yes, two orbs as red as the suit and your poisoned skin shone down at you. He was pretty too. This had to be a dream. The monster chasing you couldn’t be so handsome. You blinked, eyes unfocused. Your Spidey-sense was going wild, but you couldn’t bring yourself to fight. 2099 was warm, and you could go to sleep right here.

He shifted your body again so your side was pressed against his chest. “2099,” you whispered weakly, pathetically.

“I’m sorry for this,” he whispered in that low growl. Now it was tinged with what almost sounded like real regret. “It’s the best I can think of.”

He guided your head to rest in the curve of his shoulder, face turned toward his neck. One hand brushed hair away from your neck, the other wrapped around your waist. His fingers were no longer clawed, and his movements were gentle as he held you close, muscles tensing underneath your body. The expression on his face was tender. It seemed impossible that this was the same man who had made you his prey for months.

“Don’t panic now,” he whispered as he lowered his lips to your neck. “Stay still.”

You were barely aware of what was happening. His lips were warm, then four sharp pricks stung the base of your neck just above your collarbone and the deep poisoned wounds. Panic tried to rise in your throat, but you weren’t conscious enough to really process that a man currently had his fangs sunk into your throat. He drew back and spit out bright red poison, then bit into you again. Then again. And again.

Miguel was exceptionally careful with you, holding you perfectly still and being sure to sink his fangs into the same spot each time so as not to mark your skin any more than necessary.

Slowly, the world began coming back into focus. You were exhausted, but the poison was being was successfully being leeched from your system by his fangs. Brown curls were the first thing you became aware of, then the almost unnatural warmth coming from the man beneath you, then the cold pricks on rain on your back, then... then that something was biting you. Before you could wrench your head back, a large hand cradled the back of your head. You desperately tried to struggle as you realized what this vampiric Spider-Man was doing to you. The muscles in his arm flexed as he held your head still.

2099 pulled his fangs from your neck, spit bright red then let go of your head. You sat up quickly. The movement made you dizzy.

“I know you’re scared.” Miguel could see the fear in your eyes. He nodded to your still glowing shoulder. It was dimmer now and hurt less, but it was still obvious poisoned. “But this is working. Let me help you.”

You were looking him right in the eyes, the glowing red eyes, and though you didn’t trust him, you knew instinctively he was right.

“Okay,” you breathed lowly.

You laid your head on his shoulder. Miguel could feel how your whole body trembled, but whether it was from fear or cold or something else entirely he couldn’t tell. When his lips touched your skin you whimpered. That was fear.

Miguel still had one arm around you, but he took your hand in his free one, interlaced your fingers, and squeezed once. Then he sunk his fangs into your neck. It stung a bit but didn’t really hurt. Now that your were conscious, you could feel the poison being drawn toward the spot where his mouth connected to your skin. That didn’t really hurt either. It was like stretching a sore muscle - a satisfying pain that ultimately brought relief.

2099 drew back to spit out his poison. When was the last time you’d touched someone like this? A touch that was more than an accidental brush in the street - or a purposeful one so you could steal someone’s wallet. 2099 was your enemy, your hunter. He was dangerous. But he was saving your life and holding you so tenderly it made your chest ache.

“Once more,” he promised.

His fangs brushed over your skin for the last time. You pulled your hand from his and splayed your fingers across his chest. 2099 brought his now free hand to your poisoned shoulder and pushed the ripped fabric apart.

Miguel watched the last of the poison be pulled from your veins as it filled his mouth. He spit it out then turned back to study how your body was pressed against him.

“Can you stand?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. Then panic hit and you jerked back, still sitting on his lap but with your face now safely away from his fangs. “You- you’re going to send me back. 2099, please don’t.”

“Why do you keep calling me that? My name is Miguel.”

Miguel. 2099 had a name. Of course he did, but hearing it made him seem so human. And his face was handsome. That was no venom or poison induced hallucination. The man was beautiful.

“And no. Not yet.”

“My universe collapsed. There’s nothing for me to go back to.”

His red eyes softened as they met yours.

“We won’t send you back to an empty universe,” he paused, and one side of his lips twitched up. “You ran because you thought I’d send you back to a void? I see I have quite the reputation.”

Miguel lifted you to your feet easily. He set you on your feet and tapped the watch-like contraption on his wrist. You leaned against his muscled chest for stability. Even without his poison, you were still wounded and tired and malnourished. A portal spiraled out in front of you both.

“You promise not to send me back there?” You looked up at Miguel. He squinted at the portal’s bright light and tugged the mask back over his face.

“Promise.”

To be continued... 

Part 2

-- 

A/N: Part 2 will be a little time jump, and we’ll actually see Miguel and reader get into a relationship!

My Masterlist

--

Taglist (Want to be added? Click here.) - 

@copingchaos @n1ght5h4d3-24 @paintmekala @chaoticevilbakugo @janebby @chaoticevilbakugo @weirdo125 @roseqzpd @bitchyglitterfox @m0nster-fvcker @romanarose

Won’t Tag: @janebby @marvelescvpe

If you want taken off, just let me know! I took a guess on who might be interested.

[the-californicationist]

he washes your hair

Injured in the line of duty, you can't even manage to wash your own hair. Captain John Price decides to help you out.

MDNI/18+

TW: hurt/comfort, injury

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50663425

The medics did the best they could to patch you up, but the damage was extensive. The terrorist’s pipe bomb had exploded against your back, slamming shrapnel into your arms and shoulders, tearing your flesh and breaking your left collarbone. The doctor had tried to put your arm in a sling, but you couldn’t raise either arm above the midpoint. As you dragged your body back to your quarters, you did your best to get undressed, but you were now stuck, sitting on the floor, crying a bit from the pain and frustration of your injuries. 

There was no one to help you. You were stuck out here with the task force, but Soap and Ghost were still deep in enemy territory on recon. Gaz had gone with Laswell to find the weapons shipment that she’d promised you, and the only one left in the makeshift house-turned-base was Captain Price. 

You told yourself you’d do the same thing for him if the tables were turned, but it didn’t lessen the shame at all. You called his cell, 

“Cap?”

“Sparrow? What’s wrong?”

You never called him like this. Not at this hour. But, knowing you were injured, he picked right up. His voice was full of concern. You could picture his blue eyes shining with his worry. 

“Nothing…” you paused, “Well, I…”

“Gonna die of old age before you tell me, soldier.”

You smiled, biting the bullet,

“Cap, I need your help. I’m stuck in here. Can’t move my arms.”

“On my way,” he hung up. 

You waited, listening for his heavy footsteps. Eventually, you heard him in the hall. He knocked on your door.

“Come in,” you said, turning your eyes to the floor, unable to meet his gaze, full of shame. 

You were sitting there, in nothing but the shirt stuck around your arm and a pair of panties. You’d been successful with the rest of your outfit, proud of yourself for using a coat hanger to take off your bra from the back clip, but now you were trapped, unable to move even a little without being in excruciating pain.

“Poor little bird. Broke your wing, hm?” Price smiled down at you, his tone so different than his usual sarcasm.

“I must look pretty pitiful for you to be so sweet about it,” you rolled your eyes, “Go on, have a laugh. I’m a muppet who trapped herself in her own shirt.”

He didn’t say anything. Price walked over to you carefully, bending down so he could reach you, his hulking body darkening your vision, casting his huge shadow over you, almost protectively. He snaked his hand under the collar of your shirt and guided it up and over your head, careful not to disturb your bandages. 

Shirtless, now, and in just your underwear, you moved to cover your breasts, wincing as you made the attempt, your shoulder angry at the bent angle. 

“It’s alright, birdie. Let’s get you up,” he set your arm back into its neutral position and guided you to your feet. 

“I’m so sorry you had to come,” you whispered, shameful to the point of pain. 

Price guided you to the bathroom, his strength making you feel weightless. You were dizzy from it. His warm body felt like a salve on your wounds. 

He didn’t ask for permission when he stripped off your panties, kneeling to pull them off of your legs, letting you step gingerly out of them, one by one. You steadied yourself on his huge shoulders, the agony too high for you to complain any longer. Your breath caught in your chest when a sharp spike of hot pain shot through your chest. 

“Ah! Christ,” you gritted your teeth. 

Blue eyes looked up at you from below, looking like a man in prayer, looking up for his gods, for a sign. 

“Alright, Spar? Here, sit. Sit down,” he guided you to the side of the shower-tub combo, placing you between the open plexiglass doors. 

“Captain, I…” you tried to make your excuses again. 

“Shh,” he wiped some of your dried blood off of your cheek, and furrowed his brow at you, “No more of that. That’s an order, Corporal.” 

“Yes, sir,” you grimaced, trying to turn on the water. 

“Stop, birdie. Let me help you.” 

You were too tired to fight him. He turned on the water for you, and he started to remove your bandages. Your wounds needed to be cleaned and the bandages replaced. You weren’t sure how the medics expected you to do that by yourself. You thought the captain might be willing to stay, so you tried to be good, tried not to be a burden to him. 

“You know,” he commented as he waited for the water to warm up, reaching for clean towels, “Laswell called. She said you saved those two girls, the ones in the upstairs room.”

There had been a mess of civilians on this last mission, and you had blocked the bomb with your body, trying to shield them from the blast. 

“They made it through?” You wanted to be sure.

He nodded, smiling,

“Sure did, little bird. You did good. Made us proud,” then, he corrected himself, staring at you with fiery intent, “Me. Made me proud.” 

You smiled back, 

“Thanks, Captain.”

“C’mon, let’s get you clean,” he took off his shirt and you gaped in awe. 

His body was huge in the small bathroom, enormous shoulders bulging off of his heavy frame, and his core was thick but the top of his abs were sticking out, suggesting a well-fed but strong man. He was covered in dense hair, laying straight and flat against his skin, unshaven and untrimmed. No one to trim it for, you supposed.

“What are you doing?” You asked, shocked by his undressing.

Price unbuckled his belt, the metal clinking as it dangled, and started to take off his pants, using his toes to pry off his boots from the heel,

“Can’t wash yourself, and I can’t reach you from out here. Gonna jump in and help you,” he paused, looking at you carefully, “That alright, birdie?”

Your nickname was your favorite thing you’d ever gotten from him. When he used it, in his thick accent, it made your heart race. 

You nodded, resigning yourself to be as professional as you could, averting your eyes.

He chuckled, rich and deep,

“Might as well have a butcher’s now, love. Gonna be up close and personal.”

You looked at him then, accepting his challenge. But, as your eyes raked over his nude form, you saw his skin flush pink, a little more self-conscious than he let on. 

“I know, I know. Old dog like me, I’m nothing to look at. I promise, I’ll just wash you and get back out. Sorry about all the…” he made a general motion toward his cock, which was hanging heavy and half-hard at the sight of you, “Can’t help that you’re a pretty bird.” 

“John, you’re plenty to look at,” you grinned, blushing right along with him. 

For once in his life, John Price didn’t have a snappy response. He just checked the water again and helped you stand up, guiding you into the shower and repositioning the head so that it wouldn’t hit you directly. 

You let yourself soak under the stream, eyes closed, hearing him shut the door behind himself. You felt him steady you with a hand on your hip as he used a gentle washcloth to clean blood off of your skin, careful not to touch your wounds. 

“Turn ‘round, love,” his voice was so low, you almost couldn’t hear him. 

You turned toward him, watching him stand before you, breathing heavier, trying his best not to stare at your chest. It was easy at first. As he cleaned your face, his touch soft and platonic, he stole a few glances down. But, as he began to take care of your collarbone and chest, he lost his nerve a bit. At one point, he stopped mid-swipe, trying to clean blood from you and then watching as a long, thin rivulet ran directly over your nipple. 

You smiled, and he saw you, chuckling again.

“Got me. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Captain. Just a natural response.” 

He pulled back his lips from his teeth and ran a wet hand down his face, looking exasperated,

“Do you want…I mean, do you mind if I…” he let out a labored sigh, shaking his head. 

“You can, John. I…” you waited until he could look you in the face again, “I want you to touch me, if you want to.”

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, not really to you, “Look, I don’t want you to feel - ”

You leaned forward, a bit unsteady, and kissed the skin on his sternum, feeling the hairs on your lips, his wet skin sticking to you as you pulled away. 

“Little bird,” he was warning you. You could hear it in his tone. 

“Kiss me, John. Please?”

“I can’t. I can’t because I won’t stop. I don’t have an abundance of self-control. Not after a mission. Can’t be trusted.”

“I trust you,” you looked up at him, praying back to him, hoping he wanted you like you had wanted him over these last six months. 

Price leaned down, holding you steady, and kissed you very chastely. You kissed him back, not chastely at all. He moaned, pulling away,

“Don’t, Spar. I can’t…You’re injured.”

“Yeah, injured. Not dead.”

He smirked, unable to keep the grin off his face. His cock was as hard as a stone, and it was long enough to rub against your belly as you stood together in the small space. 

“Let me wash your hair. I’ll think about it, birdie…you little minx,” his last comment was said under his breath, full of hungry desperation. 

He turned you around again, and he reached for the shampoo, pouring out a quarter-sized amount into his calloused palm. Rubbing it together in his hands, he ran it through your scalp, massaging it until it foamed, making sure to take care of the ends. Then, he held you while you stood under the spray, letting the warm water soak your tresses, running the suds down the drain. 

As he prepared to wash your body, Price took a deep breath. He stayed away from your wounds, but as he started to wash your trunk, he hesitated to soap your breasts. 

“John, it’s okay.” 

He smiled at you, 

“Just enjoying you, little bird. Might not get another chance.” 

“I’ll make sure you get plenty of chances.” 

He was on you then, gently caressing your breasts and nipples with the soap, rubbing his body on yours, washing himself as he cleaned you. He ran his hands over your ass cheeks, down your legs, making sure to take care of your whole body as if it was his.

“Alright, all done,” he sighed, “Let’s get those dressings replaced, and I’ll take you to bed.”

You raised your eyebrows suggestively. He exhaled, smiling down at you in disbelief, his voice deep and ragged,

“Fuckin’ hell, birdie. Keep teasin’ me and I bloody will take you to bed.”

You smiled, laughing with him, enjoying his warmth as you leaned your body against his, letting the soft spray from the shower protect you both, cocooned together, safe and sound.

[larluce]

Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PARTE 1 , PARTE 2 , PARTE 3, PARTE 4 , PART5 (you're here) , PARTE 6

In "The Beginning of the End"

Morgana: Merlin! I need your help.

Merlin: (worried) What is it?

Morgana: Just come with me (brings Merlin to her chambers and shows him Mordred behind the screen)

Merlin: (Who's been ignoring Mordred's calls for help in his mind on purpose and still hates him to guts for what he did to Arthur in his timeline, trying to remain compose) That's... That's the druid boy.

Morgana: (Who did hear Mordred calls for help and helped him instead) He's injured. If we don't give him medical attention he'll die.

Merlin: (almost histerical) If Uther finds out you've been hiding the druid boy in your chambers you'll die! We'll all die! What were you thinking?!

Morgana: I couldn't just leave him! He's just a child! He's innocent!

Merlin: To Uther he's guilty.

Morgana: And to you he is? He has done no harm. His only crime is having magic. Do you think he deserves to be executed for that?

Merlin: ... No. Of course not.

Morgana: Then help me. Just tend his wound. Please. (puppy eyes)

Merlin: (Still full of resentment to Arthur's future murderer, but loving Morgana too much to deny her anything. Sighs) Alright.

...

Morgana: Arthur. To what do I owe this pleasure?

Arthur: (enters her chambers) Where is him?

Morgana: Who?

Arthur: I know you're hiding him Morgana.

Morgana: I don't know what you're talking about.

Arthur: Well, I need to search your chambers, kings orders. (starts searching)

Morgana: You will not do such a thing! Stop messing up my things!

Arthur: (opens the screen where Merlin and Mordred are hiding) So this is where you've been lazing around.

Merlin: Sorry 😅

Arthur: (To Morgana) You drag him into this, I can't believe you! Do you know the risk you're putting yourself in?

Morgana: Arthur, please! (putting herself between Arthur and Mordred) Don't turn him in. I beg you, he's just a child.

Arthur: (who resents Mordred, not really because he tried to kill him, that part just hurt him, but because Merlin had to make the deal with the sidhes and was turned into a tree due to what Mordred did in his timeline) I'm sorry I have no choice. I can hide your involvement in this. No harm will come to you or Merlin. Now step aside. (Morgana doesn't move) Morgana.

Morgana: You'll have to go throught me first!

Arthur: I'm trying to protect you.

Morgana: If you hand him over, I'll never forgive you.

Arthur: (Conflicted cause he still have mixed feelings about Mordred but doesn't want Morgana to hate him again. Looks at Merlin for answers, but Merlin's avoiding his eyes at all cost)...

Morgana: We can take him out of Camelot, back to his people. He'll be safe there and Uther will stop searching for him eventually.

Arthur: This is treason. If my father finds out-

Morgana: He won't. Not if you help us. Arthur, please. (puppy eyes)

Arthur: (sighs, giving up) We'll have to be careful. And I'm not doing this again, you hear me?

Morgana: (jumps happily and hugs him) Thank you, thank you, thank you! You're going to be a great king one day. I know it!

Arthur: Yeah, yeah whatever 🙄(but he smiles and hugs back)

Merlin: (touched by the scene and very proud of Arthur despite his feelings towards Mordred) I agree. You'll be the greatest king of all.

Arthur: (separating from Morgana's hug and extending his arms at Merlin to which Merlin just looks at him confused) So?

Merlin: So?

Arthur: Where's my gratitude hug?

Merlin: (shocked)... what? 😳

Morgana: (Who already knows something is going on) Oh, don't be shy (pushes Merlin towards Arthur)

Merlin: (wraps his arms around Arthur hesitantly, but Arthur presses Merlin to him instanly and Merlin melts in the hug)

Morgana: (thinking) Awww. Next time I'll just have Merlin seduce him into doing stuff. It'll work faster.

[mimicmimikyuwrites]

Angel Wings - Lute (Hazbin Hotel) x Angel!Reader

Summary: Angels have always wrapped their wings around the ones they love in a display of the highest form of admiration and affection. Lute's yet to do it to you, until the most recent extermination, that is.

An angel wrapping their wings around another had always been seen as an intimate thing in Heaven and elsewhere, a sign of love and affection that was reserved only for those cherished the most. It was almost as serious as a sincere, straight-from-the-heart, confession of love.

You had always wanted another angel to wrap their wings around you, that other angel in question being Lute, your sweet (to you), yet violent girlfriend. However, she had always been far from affectionate, a result of her upbringing and training as a soldier, as well as her lack of experience in romantic relationships.

You had wrapped your wings around her plenty of times, the feeling of holding her close in such a warm, loving way made you feel like you had ascended beyond Heaven and into something even better. Yet, she never returned the gesture. Did she not see your relationship as seriously as you saw it? You thought that you'd never get to experience her showing you her love in the way only an angel could.

Until the most recent extermination.

She had come home in a horrible shape, one of her eyes swollen and black, bright gold, angelic blood dripping from her nose, and the cuts on her forehead and cheek. The same golden blood covered parts of her uniform, and in utter disbelief, you tried to convince yourself it wasn't hers until you saw the missing arm which you could only pray would heal back.

You opened your mouth, ready to say her name in shock, unable to say much else; until she sprung forward, wrapping you tightly in her remaining arm, followed by her wings closing around you, and she buried her face into your shoulder.

"Lute—" You began, cutting yourself off when heard the soft sound of her crying, something you had never heard or seen from her before.

"I'm sorry." She sniffled, hugging you even tighter. "I know crying is weak a-and—"

"Don't apologize. Never apologize for that." You reassured her, finally overcoming your shock and hugging her back.

"Adam's dead, and so are so many others," She explained, moving to face you. Her eyes held fear and desperation you never expected to see from her, and it looked as if tears threatened to spill from those same eyes even harder as she struggled to hold them back. "When I was in the middle of that battle I couldn't help but think, 'What if I die? What if I never see you again?' I know I've been blessed to have you show me so much love, and I haven't returned even a fraction of it."

Now, it was your turn to begin crying. "Oh, Lute," You murmured, softly cradling her face in your hands. As you wiped her tears away, the feeling of warmth around you dawned on you. You had been too caught up in the moment to notice the way she had wrapped her wings around you; the ultimate sign of an angel's love, and it felt like it, too. It felt like you were falling in love with her all over again, and it was divine.

You kissed her passionately, making sure to put every single ounce of wonderful emotion she was making you feel into the way your lips moved against hers. She kissed back with the same intensity, wings pulling you in ever closer. The kiss felt like it could last forever, but unfortunately, all good things must come to an end eventually.

When it ended you looked at each other, a mutual sharing of adoration for the other between you two. She glanced down, taking notice of how tightly she was holding you, a light blush covering her face at the realization. She let you go, giving you a sheepish smile and a 'sorry' for holding you so tightly.

"Don't apologize. It felt nice." You replied, smiling back at her warmly. Your attention then turned to her wounds. "Let's get you patched up, okay? That looks like it hurts."

She nodded, watching as you began to head further into your house in search of a first-aid kit. She called out your name, stopping you.

"I love you, I really do. Thank you."

You smiled at her. "I know. Just take your time. I know these things don't come easy to you."

[shookuna]

m. fushiguro x gn!reader - "would you still love me if i was a worm?"

a/n: another lil piece for a moot!! the loveliest ever @meguemii !! emiiiiiii i know u have been feeling a lil down recently so i thot a lil fic might cheer u up !!!! take this silly drabble w/ ur husband, pls enjoy him !!

just some dumb bf megumi, established relationship, megumi is a little mean in this but he doesn't mean it <3 cw: slight angst :(( bc megumi does not know how to Emote. but ends happily :))

wc: ~1.4k

"would you still love me if i was a worm?"

you ask out of the blue, rousing your boyfriend from whatever he was looking at on his phone. it's a typical night in for the two of you - take-out from your all-time favorite restaurant, cuddles, and a movie. it was his turn to pick tonight, and with no better ideas, he settled on some high-budget action flick that gojo-sensei had recommended.

"...pardon?" megumi asks slowly, his voice barely audible over the sound of swords clashing on the tv. he's facing you now with the most dumbfounded stare on his pretty face. surely, he must have misheard you. over the course of your relationship, you've asked him some pretty fucking stupid things ("if you were starving, would you eat me? like, what if i said it was okay.") but this might take the cake.

"you heard me. would you still love me if i was a worm?" you repeat, undeterred by the way he balks at the question. you could have just as well told him you thought the sky was green with the way he's looking at you like you have three heads.

"is this some sort of test?" megumi asks, furrowing his brows at you in mild frustration. he was still reeling from the time you asked him if he thought water was wet, which sparked an hours long debate. the sensible answer of "yes? it's water?" was not satisfactory for you, apparently, as you took it upon yourself to consult yuuji and nobara for their opinions. by the end of the night, all four of you were embroiled in a heated argument, with no one showing any signs of backing down. it was only when megumi suggested a truce that you all begrudgingly agreed, and the discussion finally ceased. having witnessed the extent of your stubbornness firsthand, megumi was in no hurry to see it again.

"no," you respond, stretching out the last syllable. "it's just a question. one i expect you to answer. would you still love me if i were a worm?"

megumi stares at you for a bit longer, his mouth opening and closing as he processes your inquiry. he'd gotten used to your weird antics, for the most part, but there were still times where you left him speechless, for better and for worse. he eventually settles on asking you "are you a worm?" in an attempt to assess your sanity.

"no, 'gumi," you roll your eyes, puffing your cheeks out at him. he could be so difficult when it came to providing reassurance, even in this roundabout way. "in this scenario, i'm asking you whether you'd love me if i was a worm. like, imagine i just got turned into a worm, all of a sudden." you clarify, which only serves to make megumi look even more hopelessly confused.

"i mean..." he starts, before hesitating when he sees the gleam of hope in your eyes. with his next words, he sees it die before his very eyes. "...no? obviously not?"

"obviously?!" you cry out indignantly, making megumi's brow furrows further. "what's so obvious about it?"

"i mean... i'm still a human in this... scenario, yes?" he asks, to which you grumble, "assuming you're human now, yes."

"okay, so i'm human, and you're a worm." he deadpans. when you still look at him expectantly, he adds, "that speaks for itself, really." the casual indifference in his voice wounds you even further.

"well, so what? i get turned into a worm, and that's it? you just stop loving me?" you protest, growing more animated as you speak.

"i don't foresee you turning into a worm anytime soon," megumi mumbles boredly, turning his attention back to his phone. he was prepared to dismiss the discussion entirely, to get on with your night and continue to ignore the laughably bad movie on the screen in front of you. when you actually pause the movie, he realizes that's not happening anytime soon. "what'd you do that for?"

"like you were even watching it," you scoff, before rising from your seat on the couch, "i just, i can't believe you would stop loving me just because i was a worm."

"just because you were a worm?" megumi parrots, raising his brow at you as he sits up straighter. "you can't say it so casually, like you're just getting a new haircut, or something." he attempted to reason with you, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "you'd be a worm. we couldn't even communicate."

"i never said that!" you huff exasperatedly, and megumi just stares blankly at you. "i could, you know, spell messages out for you with leaves, and stuff..." you mumble under your breath, making him roll his eyes. "what?!"

"isn't it enough that i love you now?" he sighs deeply, attempting to appeal to your logical sensibilities. his words make your heart catch in your throat, and you can't help but avert your eyes away from his always piercing gaze. you knew it was stupid, to get genuinely upset at his answer to a question that had started as just a silly hypothetical. but sometimes, even though you knew megumi loved you deep down, you found it hard to reconcile his true feelings with his outward actions towards you. maybe he didn't have to love you if you were a worm, fine. but sometimes it felt like he might not love you now.

when you remain silent before him, megumi's eyes widen. shit. he didn't mean to hurt your feelings. how many times had this exact scenario happened before? where you were left to reassure yourself about megumi's love for you, when the man couldn't do it himself? you didn't deserve that. megumi knew it. "you... you do know i love you, right?"

more silence.

and then, even worse. tears.

your tears, sliding down your pretty face even as you attempt to blink them away. "i-i know, 'gumi," you let out a shaky breath, your voice scarcely above a whisper. "i know you love me. sometimes i just... i don't feel like you do." you say honestly, attempting to convey the depths of your feelings to the at times emotionally constipated man. luckily, your emotions in this moment require no further explanation.

"i... i know." megumi whispers out, in a voice so defeated that you can feel the little piece of your heart as it breaks for him. "it's just... hard, for me, sometimes, to..." he shifts in his seat, searching for the perfect words to put your mind at ease and coming up empty. "...to be honest with you, i guess. or, rather... to be honest with myself. about what i feel for you. about how much.. i love you.

"to admit that i'd... love you no matter what. even... even if you were a worm," megumi pauses and chuckles quietly when your face lights up, before continuing, "...it would force me to confront the fact that... yes, i would always love you. no matter what. and if one day, you woke up and fell out of love, if you realized you can do better than being with me, if you left... when you walk out the door..." he trails off, his eyes getting glassy as he casts his gaze down to the floor. "...you'd be taking a piece of me with you. a piece i don't think i could ever get back."

the air is heavy with the weight of his confession, and now it's your turn to stare at him with wide, dumbfounded eyes. you'd been dating for a while now, and he's told you he loved you before, but you'd never seen him like this. so vulnerable, his emotions spilling out as he threatened to come apart at the seams.

megumi wouldn't blame you if this was the moment that pushed you to walk out. after all, now, you had seen him at his lowest. his most weak. he certainly didn't expect you to fall in love even deeper after witnessing him in such a state.

but that's exactly what you did.

he nearly jumps in surprise when you throw yourself into his lap, draping your arms around his neck. "oh, 'gumi," you mumble, and the tenderness with which you say your little nickname for him has his heart racing in his chest.

"...i knew you'd love me if i was a worm."

© shookuna ! plus megumi header edited by me <33

[stxrborne]

PRECISION

|| Feitan x neutral! Reader ||

|| dt to @after-witch @ddarker-dreams @depravitycentral for inspiring me to finally get off my ass and write, and also for their amazing works ofc! check them out! ||

It’s ironic, Feitan thinks, to sew up the wounds of his victims. But they can’t die just yet.

His thin, long fingers push the needle through the victims skin of their inner thigh, and he gives out a light scoff in mockery when they whimper. Little rich boy can’t handle a little pain? He hates these rich types that think they can pull one over on the troupe. They were fun to interrogate, they always worked up his temper where taking it out on them was something he looked forward to. Due punishment, not only for their bratty, pretentious attitude, but their lucky pull in birth circumstances. Feitan acts as their comeuppance.

He’ll give it to this victim, however, still holding on to the information despite it all. Usually his male victims would start spilling whatever they knew when Feitan picked up a hammer and pushed their thighs apart. But here his victim was, crying and whimpering, and now a eunuch, and still not speaking.

Feitan finishes his stitches with a clean knot, and sets the needle and thread aside on his medical tool tables. He likes to pride himself in his efficiency and perfection. After all, torture required just as much knowledge of the human body as a surgeon. The image of Feitan as a doctor, in a different life, flashed in his mind and he laughed aloud. Maybe. Maybe if he was born lucky. Maybe if he didn’t have to learn surgery and amputations from the cruelty of his home.

After all, doctors can’t save everyone. And he didn’t see the point in willingly putting that responsibility and burden on yourself. Especially for ungrateful rich brats.

No, it was much easier to take life than to protect it. Much more fulfilling too. Other people aren’t your responsibility.

How funny though, Feitan thought. To now have something to willingly burden yourself with.

His ears pricked up to his victim shuffling in his chains, and he turned to them. The man wasn’t remarkable, only one person really was in Feitan’s eyes. The only thing noticeable now was the man’s family crest Feitan had carved on the skin above his heart.

How can you claim to belong to something, if you can’t even mark yourself with it? When you die, how will people know where you belonged to?

Feitan takes the man’s face in between his hand, and moves his head around to inspect his work. He debated between leaving the cut next to eye, dropping a few drops of an infectious bacteria into it so the eye would eventually eat itself. It’d take about a week, and then another for the infection to spread to the rest of the body.

Feitan couldn’t help but smile at the image. He gripped his victims face with his nails, and told him so.

“It’d be funny to see you swell up with blood and pus. I wonder if you’d get fat like an ugly cyst, but you already don’t look all that different from one.”

He let him go unceremoniously, and watched as his head fell forward. Feitan will grant him the mercy of sleep. After all, a dog will still endure abuse if you feed it often enough.

“Feitan?”

He heard you before you reached the basement door of course. He knew where you were in the house at all times after all.

You knew you weren’t allowed to open the door. If you needed him, just knock or call his name. You think it’s because he’d have to kill you if you saw what he was doing.

He knows that, and thinks you’re silly. He wipes his bloodied hands with a clean cloth as he walks to the door. His eyes meet yours when he opens the door, and his gaze doesn’t leave yours as he closes it. You don’t even know what color the walls of the basement are.

Feitan looks you over, with the same precision he gives to everything. You’ve been picking at your hangnails again and for some reason you didn’t bother bandaging your thumb, where you had ripped and tore at the skin enough for it to bleed. Another thing is that you’re wearing nothing but a towel, which means one thing.

“I want to take a bath,” you say, your clasped hands nervously squeezing themselves. It was another thing you weren’t allowed to do on your own. You didn’t understand why, and you didn’t understand why he did the things he did. He’d set the water the way you like it, even though you don’t remember telling him. He scents it with fragrances and oils that you can tell are expensive, in your favorite scents too. He helps you in and then holds out your towel so he doesn’t see your naked body, and he swiftly turns and closes the curtain. He does the same when you’re ready to come out.

He has a chair he sits on, quietly and unmoving as he watches your silhouette. Maybe it’s a kink or fetish of some kind, you think. It had taken you a while to get use to. But something tells you it wasn’t that exactly. One time you had slipped when washing your body, and before you could fully gasp out in surprise, you were in his arms with his face to the side.

He didn’t act the way you expected a kidnapper would. But it still didn’t explain why you were here at all.

Feitan nods at you, and you lead the way. You’ve learned he preferred to be your second shadow than to be your leading light.

Your large bathroom was attached to your equally large room. Funny how you’ve started to refer to them as ‘yours’. It’s difficult not to, when he is somehow able to let you decorate it the way you want. Feitan does that often, you’ve found. No matter how expensive your request, and you have tested that, he will get it for you. You’re scared to ask how.

He begins his routine when you both step into the bathroom. He gets the water to the temperature you like and let the bath tub fill. The sound of the tub jets fill the air, and you watch as he drips expensive oils into the water. His movements are methodical, and somehow he’s figured out the ratio of water to oil that’s right for your skin.

Feitan doesn’t dare mix the water with his hand.

Your nose is soon filled with the scent, and you feel your tense shoulders slowly let go and relax. He’s watching you, you know that. He stops the faucet when the tub fills up, and you walk up the small steps and stand in front of him.

A part of you is always tempted to touch. His pale skin is smooth and such a contrast to his dark hair. This close, you can see just a hint of green in his black eyes, the way they don’t seem to blink. You wonder if he is even human.

You nod softly and he moves behind you. You can’t even feel his presence, hear his breath, and you slightly jump when he reaches to gently clasp the small fold that holds your towel up.

Feitan waits until you calm again to continue. He never touches you directly, not even a stray touch from any finger. He takes off your towel and spreads it as a barrier between you and him.

But then you do something that has his heart beating and stopping erratically. His breath catches in his throat, your gaze turning to him and he feels trapped beneath it. How do you not know how much power you have over him?

His eyes instantly move to the way you nervously bite at your lip. Somehow he can know everything about you, how you think, how you word those thoughts, and yet now, he can’t believe what he thinks you’re going to say.

“…help me?” You say slowly, so quietly that a normal person wouldn’t have heard you.

But you know he did. And you don’t drop your eyes from him.

Feitan, in return, lets the towel drop.

[reticent-writer]

Blood demon art: Plants P1, P2, P3, P4, P5, P6(current)

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"Ow, oooow." You whined as you rolled on your back clutching the arm. You healed almost instantly but unfortunately you don't get hurt often and don't have a tolerance for pain.

"There you are Y/n. What's seems to be the matter." He carefully picked you up and examined you.

"My arm and leg were broken. Its fine now."

Setting you on his hip he went to check on the others. The train was a complete mess. Passengers were crawling out from the reck confused as to what just happened.

The boar man and yellow guy helped the injured.

there's another demon, far off into the wood but coming fast. You could sense it.

Hanafuda was on his back barely breathing.

"You've mastered total concentration constant, that's quite impressive."

As Rengoku helped Hanafuda the demon came closer and closer. He was now close enough to be recognized.

"AKAZA!" You jumped out of Kyojuro's arms just as he sensed him too.

Rengoku pushed you behind him. Akaza went after Hanafuda, but Rengoku stopped him by slicing his arm. Behind Rengoku you were closing Hanafuda's wounds.

You knew someone was going to die now that he showed up.

"why would you go after a wounded person first over me."

"I thought he would get in the way of our little chit-chat is all."

"What is it that you would like to discuss. While this is our first-time meeting, I already dislike you." Rengoku said with a straight face. You would've laughed if not for the current situation.

"Is that right? Well, I dislike weak human beings. The mere sight of them makes my skin crawl."

"If that is the case, I do not believe that we will ever get along."

"Be that as it may let me make you an offer. Why don't you become a demon as well."

"No thanks." Rengoku said, straight forward as always.

"I can tell just by looking at you that you're strong. A Hashira Huh. So that's who's been looking after Y/n all this time. Your fighting spirit has been tempered like quality steel. Your name?"

"I'm the flame hashira, Kyujuro Rengoku."

"I am Akaza as you may already know. Kyojuro, despite being a Hashira your strength is not enough because your merely human is destined to grow old and eventually die. Become a demon Kyojuro, doing so will allow you to better yourself for a hundred maybe two hundred years." Akaza waisted his breath trying to persuade the purest human you've ever met.

"Both growing old and passing away, these are things that make being human beautiful. Those may seem like weaknesses to you, but our lives are all the more precious and honorable because of them. You see true strength does not refer to the physical body. This boy is not weak, don't insult him. Let me be clear, the two of us will never see eye to eye no matter what twisted reason you give. I will not yield."

To Akaza his speech meant nothing but to you, it opened your eyes even wider. You already knew that the human was fighting for their lives against the demons but the conversation between Akaza and Rengoku showed you the big difference between demons and humans.

Demons don't die unless they are killed, Humans die regardless, and yet they still fight to preserve whatever life they have.

Your father was once Human, is he scared to die? Is this why he's been trying so hard to find the blue spider lily. Your father may be a demon, but he is afraid of death just like a human.

"I see. Technique development: Destructive death compass needle." Akaza got into his signature fighting stance. "I guess I'll just have to kill you then."

-----

They both were so fast, you couldn't keep up with it. From the looks of it neither could Hanafuda.

'oh right hanafuda' His wound wasn't fully closed yet he was still trying to move.

"You shouldn't move yet." You warned him, he didn't listen.

"I'm fine, thank you."

"But you're not!"

He tried to get up again as the boar head was ready to fight too.

"Stay there!" Rengoku scared all three of you. "You can't reopen that wound of yours it'll kill you. Let Y/n heal you." Even midbattle he is looking after others.

"Y/n healing a human. What have you done to them, they never cared before." Akaza's attacks were relentless you wanted to go and help but what could you do.

You've never been in a fight before and you don't take pain well. You could only watch as you healed hanafuda.

You couldn't bare to watch it anymore, even when the battlefield grew quite.

"I will see my duty fulfilled. No matter what it takes no body will die here." Rengoku was tired and you could tell, that was it.

Smoke clouded your vision as Hanafuda shielded you.

The smoke started to clear and Rengoku could be seen with a pained expression.

"Ren-" Akaza punched him straight through the stomach. "No." You muttered.

Even with all his injuries he still tried to cut off Akaza's head.

Hanafuda acted quicker than you, running to grab his sword.

"What should I do?"

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*this action will have consequences*

Tag list: @american-idiot21, @unhappy-filling, @lenasvoid, @abbylouamanda

[redskull199987]

Hey, can you do more Mike Schmidt x reader? i liked a lot the last storie that you made of him ^^

Hold on to your Life by Love

Mike Schmidt x fem!reader Request

Word Count:1.5k

Warnings:some blood and injuries, but it’s canon typical violence, BIG fluff follows, Like really big fluff, Movie spoilers

Summary:After the events at the Pizza-Plex, you finally get to enjoy a slow moring together with your boyfriend…

Masterlist

It was hard to keep your eyes open. You blinked rapidly, trying to stand back up, but your body was aching. Blood trickled down your chin and onto your Shirt. With a grunt, you pressed a hand onto the wound on your side, where the damn cupcake had bitten you. You slowly looked up, your eyes focusing on Mike's unconscious body a few Meters in front of you. Abby was sitting beside him, tears in her eyes, while she tried to shake him awake. Her head shot up, as she realized that you were crawling towards them.

“Abby..”, You uttered under your breath, reaching your hand out for the little girl,”The drawings…you n-need to show them…”

With the little strength you had left, you finally reached the two of them. Abby hastily grabbed your arm, pulling you closer to her and Mike.

“You gotta show them..”, you repeated quietly. Abby gave you a firm nod before you saw her taking off to rip an old sign off of a Vending Machine. She quickly found a pencil and started drawing away. 

You eventually tore your eyes away from her, over to Vanessa. She had tried to fend off Afton as long as possible, but he had her backed against a wall. Only now you saw the knife still stuck in Vanessa’s stomach. A visible gasp left your lips, as Afton pulled it out forcefully and Vanessa fell to the ground.

A chill ran down your spine and fear struck your body, as Afton turned around, a creepy smile on his face. He looked way too happy, considering that he had just stabbed his own daughter. He was about to make his way over to you and Mike, who finally seemed to wake up again. But all your attention was caught by Abby, who seemingly finished her drawing and was about to pin it on the wall. Afton could only watch in horror how she ripped the previous picture off and pinned her own onto the wall. It showed a yellow Bunny with a knife in hand, attacking and killing the children.

A few seconds of silence arose, before the entire building started shaking, like an earthquake had struck it. The lights started flickering violently and you saw that the Animatronics all turned their heads towards Afton.

“Abby?!”, You yelled and the little girl promptly came running towards you,”Help Mike to stand up.”She quickly nodded and helped her older brother to his feet, while you snuck over to Vanessa. Ignoring your own wounds, You took hold of her arm and pulled her to her feet. You saw that she was slipping in and out of consciousness.

“Come on, Vanessa. Don’t die on me.”, You mumbled while you carried her towards the Exit, where Mike and Abby were already waiting. A few seconds later, the four of you slumped to the ground in front of the Pizza-Plex, which was completely crashing down at the moment. If you had been a few seconds slower, you would be laying under all of that rubble right now.

It took you a bit to tear your eyes away from the building. Only now, you noticed that your entire shirt and hands were soaked in blood…Vanessa’s blood.

“Mike..”, You mumbled, looking up to your boyfriend,”Please tell me that your phone is still working.”

The penetrative noise of your alarm slowly made its way into your brain, as you lazily opened your eyes. You raised a hand to quickly push some buttons on the clock, effectively shutting it up. The few seconds of silence that followed, were like music to your ears. But then, a groan next to you pulled you back into reality. You felt a shuffling under the sheets and soon enough, big warm hands wandered over your body, taking a hold of your waist and pulling you closer.

A smile spread over your face, as you felt Mike nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck, while he tangled his legs with yours.

“Hey there, sleepyhead.”, you chuckled, your hand now gently running through Mike’s hair. He only hummed in delight, choosing to spend a few more minutes in comfortable silence, just enjoying each other's presence.

“We should visit Vanessa in the Hospital today.”, You proposed, looking down at your boyfriend. Only now, he finally opened his eyes, searching for your own. When he found them, he gave you a smile and a firm nod, before leaning up to softly kiss your temple:”Sounds good.”

“Just a few more minutes..”, You mumbled, closing your eyes again. 

You tried to concentrate on Mike’s hands, holding you close. His warmth, that was invading you. You put your entire focus on him, trying not to think of what you had dreamt about. Or rather, the memories that came back to you in your dream.

The horrific night at the Pizza-Plex. Mike’s unconscious Body, Vanessa’s blood on your hands. You tried not to think about it too much, but the fact that Vanessa was still in the Hospital and hadn’t woken up yet, made you incredibly nervous. What if she didn’t wake up again? What if it was your fault? That she gave her life to save you and you could do nothing to repay her.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

The sound of Mike’s raspy voice successfully pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts and you looked back down at him. Almost immediately, a smile appeared on your lips, as you saw his face.

“Oh you know, just what we should eat for Dinner today.”, You joked,”Do you think Abby will want Spaghetti again?”

Mike chuckled upon hearing your thoughts. He slightly parted from you, propping his head up on his arm:”She probably can’t decide again.”

“Probably."...", Mike smiled. He lifted a hand to gently push a strand of hair out of your face. You followed the movement of his hand, until it rested against your cheek. Only then, you looked up into his eyes. And what you saw almost made you tear up. Mike looked at you with so much passion and adoration, it made your heart clench.

“I love you.”, he mumbled, after a few seconds of silence, where you just looked at each other.

You couldn’t help yourself, Almost instantly, after those three words left his lips, you leaned forward, kissing him passionately. The two of you tumbled over, Mike now beneath you, while you sat on top of his hips. With a mutual chuckle, the two of you parted again. Your hands now rested on top of his chest and you could feel his heart beating rapidly. 

Mike only looked at you for a second, before he gently grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand towards his lips to leave some delicate kisses on your skin.

You felt heat rising to your cheeks and you quickly looked away. But you couldn’t hide the grin on your face. It was so undeniably obvious how much you were in love with Mike. And he knew it.

“Let’s get up to make breakfast.”, Mike said with a smirk. He knew what he did to you, but he was at least kind enough to not say it out loud.

You nodded at his proposal and slowly lifted yourself from him, but before you could react, Mike grabbed your other hand, pushing you down on the bed, so that your roles were reversed now, with him on top of you. 

“Got you”, Mike grinned, pinning your hands down on the sheets above you. You only gave him a playful huff, trying to free yourself, but his legs on either side of your hips didn’t leave any room for moving around.

“You know, there is a way to free yourself.”, Mike said, not able to hide the grin on his lips.

“And what would that be?”, You asked, faking to be not interested.

Mike quickly leaned down, whispering into your ear:”A kiss.”

A shiver ran down your spine, as he looked at you again. His eyes moved to your lips and he gave you a questioning look, like he was asking for permission. You nodded, almost unnoticeable. But Mike did in fact, notice it and it didn’t take him very long to connect your lips in a tender kiss. This one was different. It was oozing with emotions and both of you poured everything that you had into it.

When you parted a few moments later, the two of you were panting against each other's lips, enjoying the aftereffects of the kiss.

“Let’s get up now, hm?”, You mumbled, gently stroking Mike’s cheek to pull him out of his haze. He gave you a small nod and slowly stood up, pulling you along with him.

“Do you think Abby is awake already?”, You asked curiously, while the two of you started to get dressed.

Mike only chuckled at your question:”I’m betting on it.”

“Sure.”, You smirked,”Whoever loses, has to buy dinner.”

“Deal”, Mike smiled.

Secretly, you knew that you would lose. But it made your heart bloom with joy, when you saw the expression on Mike’s face when he realized he won. You’d pay a million meals, if it meant you could keep seeing his smile.

[bettyfrommars]

I need to know what you think about finding a dark siren Eddie Munson. Maybe he got hurt and washed up on the shore? You’re immediately his mate and he loves you very much even though he’s never been near a human. Very much I hate everyone but you vibes for our bloodthirsty friend.

Boyfriend From the Deep

darkSiren!Eddie x Reader

darkSiren!Eddie art here and here

Blurb 1

Blurb 2

18+ONLY, smut, some monsterfuqqing, mention of gore, mention of throwing up, visit from Murray & Hopper, mention of reader's life not going well, AFAB Reader, love at first sight, soulmates, merman!Eddie. wc: 3k

A/N: Another request I was really excited to sink my teeth into. My hope is to continue this eventually, taking inspiration from the 1984 film Splash. Looking forward to what y'all think of darkSiren!Eddie, thank you for indulging me.

---------

Eddie choked and coughed as the wave crashed over him, forcing his eyes open with a gargled gasp.  He was pinned up against a rocky ledge, half of his body on the sand and the other half in the frigid water.  All of a sudden, he felt sick, and began retching clear bile into the sea.  He didn’t like breathing the air, he wasn’t used to it, and it caught in his throat like a feather–tickling—until he coughed and retched again.  The gills on the sides of his neck sputtered, flapping open like vents, drying out, trying to conform to the new way of breathing.

It was then that he became aware of the dull ache at the back of his head, and with trembling fingers, he reached back to test the spot with a cringe and a hiss.  He checked to find that his fingertips were bloody; he must’ve knocked his head on one of the sharp rocks during the transformation.  How badly was he wounded? Would be a shame to survive the journey to human form only to die on the beach and rot like a bloated fish.  

He braced his hand, fingers digging into the sand, and flicked his hips to swish his tail to get him unstuck, but then two legs kicked out from his hips, stuck in a fisherman’s net, and it startled him, making him slam his head into the rock again.  He winced, eyes squeezing shut, whimpering a bit at the sting of the impact as the saltwater splashed up to his knees and misted his face.  

This was Eddie’s first time back to land in over a decade.  Mostly because he loathed humans.  He loved to lure them to their deaths, he loved to watch from under the water as their ships sank so that he could feed on their fear, curling the sound waves of their screams into his belly like sweet nectar. 

He twisted, trying to be free of the rough ropes that cut into his skin, but he was weak, and he wasn’t sure how much blood he’d lost.  He was stuck there now, for 7 days and 7 nights, and he thought maybe he’d just find a way to stay hidden…

….until he saw you.

It was rare for you to be up at the crack of dawn, unless it was due to the fact that you hadn’t slept at all, which was a regular occurrence.  Long, restful sleeps that lasted hours were just a myth to you, ever since you’d watched your life go down the toilet.  A breakup, a death in the family, getting fired from your job; all of it happened all at once, and you were still reeling, teetering at the edge of the abyss.

You were all alone in the world, but for your dog, Louie, and the modest cottage you were renting for a week off the Oregon coast.  The beach house was tucked back in the woods, and it didn’t even have a TV, so flipping it on to watch the early morning broadcast or some cartoons to relax your brain was not an option. The radio would have to do, and the first song that came on when you flipped the dial was Brandy by Looking Glass.  You hummed along to it as you plucked Louie’s leash off the sofa and attached it to his collar.  He was a medium, handsome, mixed-breed boy that you’d rescued from the side of the road as a puppy.  Part corgi, part border collie, part…dalmatian? You weren’t entirely sure.  

“He came on a summer's day

Bringin' gifts from far away

But he made it clear he couldn't stay

No harbor was his home

The sailor said, ‘Brandy, you're a fine girl 

What a good wife you would be 

But my life, my love, and my lady is the sea”

It was exceptionally chilly for an August morning, making you bundle in a hoodie and boots for the trek out to the beach.  Louie was practically foaming at the mouth to get out there for his run, and since your area of the beach was fairly secluded at that time of morning, you unhooked his leash where the dirt path met with the sand, and he bolted into the fog toward the ocean like a shot.  There was a wet mist lingering in the air, like salty, seaweed-scented kisses that made you squint against the bright gray hues turning blue with the rise of the sun.  A few seagulls squawked and swooshed overhead, diving down to perch on a large piece of driftwood, and you waved to them, as if they’d showed up just to say hello to you.

You faced the vast expanse of ocean and crashing waves with a mix of awe and defiance, challenging it silently with a lift of your chin.  Your reverie was rudely interrupted by Louie’s alarm bark, somewhere deep in the mist. 

You followed the sound, walking blind until you caught sight of the jutting rocks at the base of a cliff, and the shrill of Louie’s distress signal was getting further away.  Your feet picked up speed, stumbling for purchase in the soft, wet ground as you called for him, a bit of panic stroking your heart.  Why did it feel like you were about to start crying? An avalanche of unfelt emotions gathered in your throat as you called for your loyal companion.  

But there he was, finally, sitting facing the rocks, tail wagging side to side, making a fan-shape in the sand, basically ignoring you as you collapsed to one knee, cursing, clutching your chest.  

You mumbled a whole conversation to him as you snapped the leash back in place and got to your feet.  You tried to guide him in the other direction, but Louie was transfixed on something a few yards ahead, and it took your eyes a moment to adjust—but then you saw it.  A hand, slightly webbed between the fingers, appeared from around the black rock, digging into the sand, and then another hand gripped the tan earth further along, as if someone were trying to pull themself along by their arm strength alone.  The wrists were covered in jewelry that looked like they were made of shell and bone; the forearms tattooed in dotted, swirling black ink patterns.  

You were too stunned to scream, mouth hanging agape.  You urged Louie back to shield him with your legs.  You saw the long, dark hair next, pooling over bare, tattooed shoulders; it was messy and unkempt, littered in bits of fauna and a few empty clam shells, one side matted with blood.  

Before your brain could throw the alarm that this might be dangerous, you were already speaking.  “A-are you alright? Do you need me to get help?”

That was when his head snapped up, and wide, all-white eyes regarded you with malice, lips curling back to expose a mouth full of pointed teeth.  He growled at you, and Louie growled back, but then, after a second, the monster's face softened.  The milk white eyes behind tendrils of hair shifted to brown, human irises, and he cocked his head a few times at you, as if trying to understand what you had just said.

You should have fainted.

You should have turned and run screaming in the other direction.

But, for some reason, neither one of those even occurred to you.  

You came around to get a better look at him, down along where the water lapped at your boots, and took in the rest of his body; he was tangled up in a crude net from the waist down.  He wore a necklace that appeared to be made of intricate fish bones and coral, and shark tooth earring dangled from his ear.  The tattoo patterns ran all along his chest, stomach, and legs.  You released Louie’s leash, and he sat right where he was told, while you crouched down to meet Eddie’s curious gaze that never strayed from you.

“Will you let me help you?” You asked.

Eddie was in love.

He never believed the stories he’d been told about the imprinting and immediate bonding that happened when you met your mate.  He wasn’t just any Merman, he was a Siren, and as a soldier of the dark forces of the sea, he figured he didn’t have time for frivolous things like romance.

But this took no time at all.

You were meant to be his, and he didn’t care who he had to kill to keep you.  

He studied your face as you worked to free the wet knot of seaweed tangles on the net, freeing his thighs from the heavyweight, gasping and averting your eyes at the way your touch made his cock twitch and swell.  You helped him to sit up, noticing what appeared to be gills on his throat and sides along his ribs.  His flesh was similar to that of a human, but also not.  It had a thick, rippled texture, like the belly of a snake, and it seemed to glow with a soft blue fluorescence.  His muscles were tight and lean, and he didn’t even bother to shiver as a cold wind made your teeth chatter. 

You told him your name as another seagull cawed overhead, and asked what you should call him.  

His eyebrows clenched together, tilting his head a few times, watching your mouth as you spoke.

“Do you speak English?”  You asked it in a cringe way, with a loud voice, as if a higher volume could break any language barrier.  

He brought his webbed hand up to touch your face, and you jerked away at first, but then you let his scaled knuckles graze your cheek, the legs of your jeans soaking wet now as you knelt there with what could only be described as a figment of your imagination. 

He spoke a word in foreign language, his voice a deep whisper.  You remembered how solid white his eyes had been before when he thought you were a threat, but now they were honey brown, almost cat-like in nature as they softly adored you. 

“I-I don’t understand,” you breathed, unable to comprehend the time it took for his mouth to find yours, to plant wholesome kisses, to taste you.

You might’ve been in love with him at that moment too, but your jaded heart refused to let yourself believe it.  

You did, however, feel the arousal blossom at your core as his tongue fluttered against yours, whimpering with a little click in his throat like a sea lion at the way you returned his kiss.

The urge to mate you, to officially make you his, was too strong for Eddie to take into regard any of the formalities of courtship.  Once your hand found his generous girth and began to stroke, encouragingly, that was all it took.

You skittered backwards up onto the semi-dry sand, unzipping your jeans and pushing them down to your ankles as you went, and Eddie followed, bracing himself on top so he wouldn’t crush you, desperate to find your mouth again. His powerful hips bucked against you, and you held him by the neck, begging for more while he spoke to you in that foreign tongue, staring into your eyes, willing you to understand him.  

Wanting you to know that no one would ever love you as much as he did; that he would be your one and only mate until the darkness took you both.  

The position felt awkward, but there was no time to take your boots off as your hole clenched the air, desperate to be filled.  You spun around to get on your hands and knees, and Eddie buried his cock in your wet heat with one swish of his muscular thighs, throwing his head back in a bark of triumph.  

You pushed back against him, needing him to move, to stretch you and own you with each push, your fingers clawing into the sand as you whined.  

Nearby, Louie cocked his head and tried to lift one floppy ear, but then he turned his face to the sea, trying to give you some privacy.

You’d never been fucked by someone as strong as this sea monster, and your whole body jerked and vibrated under the impact of his deep thrusts.  “Yesyesyes…oh fuck!”

It wasn’t long before Eddie clapped his pelvis flush to your ass and spilled inside of you, chanting foreign words, tilting his head to the sky, worshiping you with his offering.  He stayed locked there for a while, working his seed deeper with every stroke.  When he was done, he flipped you over with a feral urgency that sent sand into your eyes and nose, but you didn’t care, because now his mouth was on you.  

Your fingers sank into his matted hair, and that was when you felt the viscous patch and remembered he was bleeding.  His big, strong legs were a bit wobbly, and the thought occurred to you, for whatever reason, that he wasn’t accustomed to using them.  

But then Louie was barking in the other direction, and you both turned your attention to see a figure appearing from out of the mist.   A middle-aged man in a pageboy cap and a trench coat; he was already too close before you knew he was there, and he dropped the walking stick in his hand, his face frozen in shock and terror.  

Eddie smelled the foul human approaching and the familiar bloodlust roared in his veins. The fin on Eddie’s back bristled as he rose to a crouch with a ferocious growl.  You shuffled as far as you could against the rock, trying to pull your jeans up and cover yourself, not sure what to think of Eddie’s reaction.

Eddie bared his mouth full of sharp teeth in a sneer at the man, his eyes going completely white again.  A storm seemed to hit the beach all of a sudden at Eddie’s command, dropping down a gust of wind that rocked the waves and sent the man stumbling off his feet as if the world tilted on its axis, trying to hold his hat on against the force of it.  A low, rumbling wail came from somewhere deep in Eddie’s chest as you tried to shield your face from the whips of sand stabbing like tiny daggers in your flesh.  Eddie appeared to be sucking the life out of the man from his distance; the human’s body lifted up in the air and bent back.  You thought you heard something crack.  

It was only a matter of seconds before the man crumpled to the ground, unresponsive, and then Eddie settled, and so did the air around him.  After a few heartbeats, there were only the crashing waves and the birds once again, and Eddie’s head snapped to you, searching, making sure you were okay.

He held his arms out and you scrambled over, burying your head in the crook of his neck, letting him cage you, letting him have you.

Louie went over to sniff around at the man on the ground, wondering if he had any treats, and then he lifted his leg and let go of a stream of urine onto his shoe.

—-----

Murray Bauman slammed the paper onto Hopper’s desk, forcing a gust of wind into his face and a couple of yellow sticky notes to go flying.

Murray waited, hands on his hips, the door to the office wide open behind him.  Hopper took a deep inhale and flicked a few bored glances from the cover of the Seaside Review back up to Murray’s severe expression.

“Is this your way of telling me you're taking a vacation?” He guessed, shifting back in his squeaky chair.

“This,” Murray jabbed his finger in the direction of the paper.  “Is what I’ve been trying to tell you about.”

In the mood to humor his old friend, Hopper bent forward, furrowing his brow, taking a closer look at the headlines.  

Murray continued, pacing in front of the desk as he did so.  “Merpeople don’t exist? Well then, explain that to me.”

To the right, at the top of a long column and a sketch, was the headline: Reclusive artist survives a Siren attack on the beach and lives to tell: Merfolk exist.

Hopper cleared his throat.  “This is a drawing, Murray.”

Murray stopped his pacing, inclining his head, adopting a sarcastic tone.  “Notice anything familiar about that likeness, Jim? Does any part of it ring a bell? The white eyes, maybe? The teeth?”

“Sure,” Hopper picked the paper up and plopped it down, further away from him.  “It looks like Elvis.  Call The Inquirer.” 

Murray flopped in a chair facing the Chief’s desk with a huff.  He’d keep talking about it even if it fell on deaf ears because he knew he was right.  “The migration of the Sirens.  Enki, Poseidon, Amphitrite, the legend of the skin-shedding Merfolk who can walk on land for 7 days during a blood moon.  Humanoids.  Cannibals of the sea—-”

“Stop,” Hopper put his hand up palm out. “Just, stop. Is any of this supposed to make any sense to me? Why are you here? What have I done to deserve this?”

Murray rested his elbows on the arms of the chair, intertwining his fingers.  “The drawing should look familiar to you, Jim, because it’s just like the one I saw when I was a teenager, and three summers ago when I was on that death-trap Alaskan cruise.  I told you all about it.  I told you that I was—-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hopper interrupted.  “But again, I’ll ask—why are you coming to me with this? You think I’m going to arrest a fish?”

Murray rounded his shoulders.  "I know that Sirens exist, Jim.  There’s more than enough evidence out there, and I’m going to prove it to you, if not the world.” 

[reve-writes]

—fixer upper. | alice in borderland chishiya shuntarō x reader.

you were shot. he helped you not bleed out to death. | set in s2 beginning of king of spades.

CHISHIYA WAS CUNNING AND SELF-PRESERVING. While it would've slightly hurt your feelings if he had left you, it would be very much in-character of him.

He cussed when the first spray of bullets was fired, finding cover. You cussed seconds later, leaning against a pillar, your hand hovering over a fresh bullet wound just above your hip bone.

"Fuck," you repeatedly said, trying to stay calm despite the adrenaline pumping through you. You needed to think of the different ways you could get to safety, away from the gun-crazed maniac.

"Can you move?" Chishiya asked, noticing the blooming blood on your jacket.

You closed your eyes, the pain was starting to sink in. "You go. I'll wait for the shooter to walk past and make a run for it."

He said nothing and for a terrible second, you thought you were actually alone. Having been in the Beach for quite a while, you weren't used to isolation. Your eyes shot open when you felt someone grab your hand.

"Can you walk?" He asked again, slinging your arm over his shoulders.

You stare at him blankly for a second. He asked again, with an annoyed click of his tongue. "Can you walk or not?"

"I can try," you answered, hobbling along the sidewalk with the silver-haired man. You hissed and cursed every time he pulled or pushed you swiftly to take cover.

"You're regretting it, huh? Should've left me," you teased, watching him as he frowned with effort.

"Stop talking and move faster."

Finally, he ducked under an apothecary, pulling you inside with him, waddling as far away from the doors and windows as possible. You hid behind the cash register counter while gunshots rang over and over again outside. Until, eventually the sound got quieter and disappeared.

Chishiya peeked over the counter. Still quiet. He gingerly stood up and walked quietly over around the counter.

"I have the shittiest luck," you complained. "Can't even die from the shot. Now I have to sit here and bleed to death in pain."

"On the contrary, I think your luck is keeping you alive," he replied, shuffling about between the shelves.

You shrugged, not that Chishiya could see it. "Maybe I'm lucky to be stuck with you then."

It was silent for a second and two and five.

"Are you—"

You interrupted him, "Because you're a med student! I didn't mean to make it weird."

"You remembered," he said, putting a handful of supplies next to you. Gauze, anesthetic, antiseptics. Sat facing you, Chishiya put on a pair of latex gloves.

"Take off your jacket."

"Huh?"

Still as expressionless as ever, he tugged on the bottom hem of your jacket. "Off."

You slid down the zipper awkwardly. Chishiya was completely professional while dressing your wound. You were staring at him, shamelessly, as his blood-slicked hand pressed against your torso.

Were his lashes always this long?

Chishiya knew he should have left you. Your plan most likely would have worked, assuming the shooter was trying to rack up as many victims as they could, you would've been safe hiding until they walked past.

However, seeing the blood slicking your clothes, he could feel himself tensing. He couldn't leave this to a probability. A dozen different scenarios went through his head—all of them with you, dead. At that moment, his caution was thrown in the wind. You couldn't die. Not there, not then.

He was so used to having you around him that the thought of you dying never really crossed his mind. Would he simply go on? Would he grieve? He didn't want to dwell on the thought. This was the one thing he didn't mind not knowing—what he would do after you.

"You'll be fine," Chishiya said finally, security the bandage around your torso. "Rest up."

"I'm fine now," you said stubbornly. You tried to push yourself off of the ground, but the room spun around you. You fell, lying down on the floor with your hand on your eyes, groaning.

"You lost a lot of blood. Get some rest."

When you woke up much later, there were a fresh, clean jacket, a bottle of water, and a couple cans of food by your side.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

[ ]

[eat-limes-bitches]

Not Allowed To Die

PAIRING: Female Reader x  Bucky Barnes

SUMMARY:  We never know how much time we have left and fate is a cruel mistress. We can only make the best of the time we have left.

WARNINGS: ANGST! Like omg so much angst not really a happy ending but it's not super sad either. Sad! Bucky, mentions of death, dying, tears

Word Count: 755

A/N: Would you like to be sad and or have your heart ripped out? Good. I was thinking about this the other day and it just felt like something so raw and real to talk about, especially since this is one of my greatest fears.

Enjoy! <3

It was around three am when Bucky woke up with a start. He heaved deep breaths into his lungs, physically willing his heart to slow down. He looked to his side and saw her still asleep, the moonlight drifting in through the window casting a halo on her hair as steady, strong, breaths fanned across her pillow. It was the sight of her next to him in their bed that allowed Bucky to finally catch his breath. He reached over with his flesh hand and traced her features with his finger, mapping every dip and curve, freckle and crease on her face, permanently ingraining her face into his mind. 

His feather touches eventually woke her up. Her brows furrowed together as a sleepy “James?” left her lips. Her eyes fluttered open and landed on the man staring at her with worry and fear etched deep into his features.

“James? What’s wrong?” She mumbled as she started to sit herself up. Bucky stared at her for a moment before blurting out “You are not allowed to die before me.” 

This surprised her. She sat up a little quicker and looked at him, “What?”

Taking a deep breath, Bucky repeated himself, “You are not allowed to die before me. You, just can’t.”

She let out a deep sigh as she leaned back against the headboard keeping her gaze trained on the man she loved. 

“Now James,” She started, reaching for his hand, “What on Earth brought this up, my love?”

Bucky takes a shuddery breath, his throat suddenly becoming tight as he tries to speak.

“I- I just realized how fragile all of this is. I realized that I m-might lose you and that scares me. I’ve already lost so much, I don’t think I’d be able to handle losing you too.” He chokes out, tears starting to sting his eyes, threatening to spill.

“I can’t lose you. I- I have to go before you.” 

Now her throat constricted, the thought of him leaving before she did was not a foreign thought to her, with his line of work, there is always a possibility that he won’t come back, but something about him making that statement when the world was silent weighed a little more on her. 

“Well that’s n-not exactly fair is it?” She choked out as tears started rolling down her cheeks. Bucky reached over and cupped her face in his hand.

“I s’pose no darlin’” He murmured as his breath caught in his chest. 

“B-but I just can’t lose you. I- I wouldn’t survive it” He choked on a sob as his admission hung in the air. Y/n sighs and gathers Bucky up in her arms, tears still streaming down her face.

“Baby, we can’t avoid it. It’s inevitable but I need you to promise me something ok?” She says softly, pulling away slightly so she can look Bucky in the eye.

“If I do die before you, don’t let that grief bury you alive, my love, ok?” Bucky opens his mouth to speak before she silences him.

“Take each day as it comes. And promise me, when the pain eases, you'll let yourself feel joy again.”

“But, you’re my everything darlin’,” Bucky sobbed, pulling her into his arms. She wound her arms around him, further deepening the embrace. 

“And you are mine. But you know what my ma told me? Love doesn't end with death. It transforms into memories, moments that live on, even when the people in them are long gone.” 

The pair sat in silence, content to just sit in one another's embrace before Y/n pulled away taking a deep breath.

“Now, as things sit, right here, right now, at this moment, I’m not going anywhere any time soon ok? We still have a lot of living to do, together, alright?” Bucky nodded.

“But I’m still afraid.” He whispered. 

“And that’s ok, my love,” She whispered as a ghost of a smile danced across her features, “As long as we don’t let that fear cloud the beauty that surrounds us right now.” 

Y/n laid back down, pulling Bucky down with her so that his head was resting on her chest where he could hear her heartbeat. 

 “We’re going to grow old together, and make lots of memories, so when the time comes, and one of us has to go, we have a lifetime of love behind us. And who knows,” She whispered, “Maybe, just maybe we will go hand in hand, and I’ll follow you into the dark.” 

[suuuupernovaaa]

zeyko

zeyko [zɛj.ˈk·o] vtr. heal, fix

Requests from @hyunjinoak: Can I request Neteyam x female reader story, in which the reader got hurt badly during a mission/war and her baby daughter/son keeps crying so bad for her(his) mom?

TW: violence, blood

With all the strength in his body, Neteyam shoves his younger brother to the ground, and raises his fist, intent on bringing it down square on Lo'ak's face. He hopes he will break his nose, or an eye socket, or maybe even his jaw.

Before his fist can crack bone, someone grabs his arm and wrenches him away.

He hears his father's voice. "Hey, whoa," he's saying, loudly trying to calm his son.

"It's his fault! It's his fault she was shot," Neteyam screams. "She went down there to protect him!"

Jake grabs his son's shoulders, spinning him so that they are face to face. He sees the anguish in his son's eyes, but even so, he can't let him hurt his brother.

Neteyam might be angry, but Jake knows he would regret it soon enough, if he hurt Lo'ak.

"Your son needs you now, Neteyam. He's crying for his mother, he doesn't know what happened. You need to go take care of him." He looks over his eldest son's shoulder, to see Lo'ak standing up, looking hurt and defeated. "I'll deal with your brother."

At the thought of his son, Neteyam stands up straighter. Without another word, he charges home.

--

It's the longest night of Neteyam's life. He stands outside of Tsahik's tent, listening to his wife's moans and cries, while holding his discontented infant in his arms.

The baby only wants Y/N. It's as if the little one senses that something is wrong, that his mother is hurt, and nothing he can do will calm the boy down.

Eventually, when things begin to calm down, Kiri emerges. Neteyam is near tears, the baby is screaming, and everyone is tired.

"Is she okay?" Neteyam asks.

Kiri nods. "She is. You go in. Give my nephew to me." She extends her arms and almost instantly, the baby settles in his aunt's embrace. Neteaym frowns, but Kiri shakes her head. "It's because I am calm, and he could feel your worry. Just go."

Confident that his son is safe with Aunt Kiri, he rushes into the tent, eager to finally reunite with his mate.

--

It happened in slow motion. Lo'ak took to the ground, wanting to claim a weapon for himself, and I followed, scared something would happen to him.

The ships were inbound quicker than I'd thought, and no sooner had Jake put out the warning, than the bullet had ripped through my side, tearing a searing hole in my flesh.

"Y/N!" Lo'ak screamed, tossing aside the gun he'd just picked up, and the world faded to black.

I had spent the next 12 hours in and out of consciousness, waking up to unbelievable pain, and then falling back asleep again. It felt like an endless cycle... until it did end.

My eyes open, with much difficulty, and the pain is subsided. It's still there, and it's still the worst pain in my life, but it is no longer a searing, hot open wound. I feel the sting of healing, and the numbness of whatever salve Tsahik and Kiri have come up with to place on the wound.

"Neteyam," I whisper. "Ninan..."

Kiri hovers to my right, and pats my shoulder. "I will bring Neteyam. Hopefully, Ninan is sleeping peacefully."

She exits the tent, and only moments later, Neteyam enters.

The sight of him sends me to tears, and though the sobs hurt my sore body, I cannot stop them. The wound at my side isn't all that hurts - I am covered in bruises and cuts from falling off the ship when I was shot, and I am tired, my throat is dry, and I just want to see my family.

Neteyam drops to his knees by my side, and I see the tears in my eyes reflected in his.

I reach my hand up, cupping his cheek, and he covers his hand with mine, leaning his cheek into my palm.

"I thought you were going to die, Y/N," he says in a low, breathy voice. "I thought you were dead, when I saw you lying there."

Shaking my head, I try to muster a smile. "I would not leave you, or Ninan. You know this."

"I'll kill Lo'ak for risking your life."

"No, Neteyam. Lo'ak isn't to blame. I followed him on my own. He was just... being Lo'ak. He didn't think."

"His carelessness almost got you killed! Almost took Ninan's mother from him."

I wince at the harshness of his tone. "We'll speak of this later. Is Ninan sleeping?"

Neteyam nods. "In Kiri's arms. You should sleep now."

He lays down next to me on his side, pressing his forehead to my temple.

"You will bring me my son at first light," I whisper, but my eyelids are already drooping, and Neteyam is pulling a fur over us. I feel warm, and the pain begins to subside as sleep starts to overtake me. As always, I feel safe with Neteyam close to me; I know with him here, I will heal faster.

In the morning, I will hold my son, and Neteyam will forgive his brother - because that's what family does.

[fieldofdaisiies]

Whisper of the Forgotten | pt. 10

pairing: azriel x reader | type: angst | words: 1,5k words | warnings: war | masterlist

“AZRIEL!” Your wail, the scream of pure pain and agony, tears through the few Illyrian warriors left on the battle ground, shaking the ground. You need to find him, but have no idea where he is. Dead bodies are scattered all over the ground, covered in blood and weapons, and dirt and fear kicks in that he is one of them. 

You haven’t felt like this in a long time, helpless and broken. Last time you had felt like that was when you had been locked into the Prison, many centuries ago. 

Your heart hammers against your ribcage when you spin around, trying to make out anything in the distance, but the dust in your eyes and fog hovering above the ground make it hard for you to see. 

Wails of pain coming from warriors who have been injured reverberate through you, making you shudder and you fold your arms around your body. 

The feeling within your soul, the tug, the bond that connects your souls, fades more and more with every ragged breath you take. The air burns down your throat, and tears start to fall from your eyes. 

Only an hour prior the battle had still been raging on, Illyrians and Darkbringers, joined by all the armies from the other courts, battling and fighting against the Death God and his supporters. It was blade against blade, steel against steel, wails and war cries sounded from every corner and then—

Then the land fell dark as an otherworldly being, a creature made of darkness and vengeance, one that you once used to call your friend, and hope to do so in the future again, landed upon the fighting warriors, upon those who supported and belonged to Koschei.

It was a nest of swirling black shadows, ruling over the land, wiping out every living being in its wake, sparing those on your side, until nothing but destruction and dust was left.

You and Nesta, your powers unified, were the ones who landed the death blow. 

Ataraxia tightly clasped in her hand, she lunged at Koschei first. You joined her on her quest, fuelling your energy, gathering all the power you had, and then, joined by the forces of the Wild Hunt, you came upon him, knives and magic working together as one — ending his life.

He had been weakened before, but had his people, his supporters, armies from the continent to protect him, shield him.

The battle had raged on for months, you had all been weakened, but you had known the day would come where you would face him. The battle would come and you would return from it victorious.

The land roared, cracked open, screamed when Ataraxia pierced through his chest, followed by the blow of your magic. You sent a gust of wind at him, at the ashes and dust, the only thing left of him, and allowed the wind to carry him away.

A mixture of tears, dirt and blood coated your face, your entire body, and when you turned back to face your family, you fell into their arms.

The Wild Hunt, brutal beasts and warriors, all came together to hug one another, screaming and weeping now that you were reunited and won the war.

But right now, you can’t waste any time, you need to find your mate. 

All these centuries, everything that has happened between you – you can’t lose him now. Not like this. Azriel doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve to die out here. You need to find him and tend to him, heal his wounds. And–

“Y/N!” Cassian calls to you from a distance and you need a moment to figure where his voice is coming from. Eventually, your eyes land on the Illyrian male who looks battered and broken, his body coated in grime and blood. He is standing in front of a healer’s tent, but walks into your direction, limping. 

“Y/N!” he calls again. “It’s Azriel!” Cassian trembles as he braces his hands on his thighs, his eyes revealing everything you need to see. 

And the pain in his voice is everything you need to hear. 

Driven by fear and terror, you dash forward, into the general’s direction, past him and into the healer’s tent and fall to the ground, a sob bursting from you when you take in your mate and the–

───── ⋆⋅ ☽☾ ⋅⋆ ─────

You wake up with a loud scream parting your dry lips, and burning fiercely in your throat. Your eyes a damp with unshed tears and—

A strong arm curls tightly around you and you feel the soft press of lips against the side of your neck.

“Share your nightmare with me,” Azriel mumbles, his voice hoarse and low.

Your breathing is ragged but you relax immediately, pressing into his warm and solid body, finding solace in it. 

You close your eyes, hoping to ease the burning and for your heart to calm down. Your breaths start to calm as well, levelling, and you slide your hand into his scarred one.

“I dreamt of the war.”

Azriel’s body shudders in response to your answer, and his arm curls tighter around, his naked body flush against yours. 

“I dreamt of how I couldn’t find you, how I was looking for you, and how I was reunited with my family.”

“But you found me,” Azriel breathes, his voice full of emotion. 

You turn in his arms, slowly in order to not hurt him. The war hasn’t been over for too long, Azriel earned himself many deep gashes. The blades that caused him those had been drenched in faebane and the healing took much longer.

“I did,” you whisper and a tear rolls down your cheek.

“I can’t believe you could forgive me, Y/N.” Azriel‘s eyes are closed almost as if it pains him to look at you. “After I‘ve hurt you so much, after I betrayed you, after—”

Having wiggled one hand free, you place it atop his lips, stopping him. “Our souls belong to each other, they were for another and so are we — made for another. Two hearts that belong together shouldn’t be kept apart. It is true that you hurt me, but you apologised and you have shown me that you are a better male now.”

You push up on your elbow, allowing your naked limbs to tangle with his. 

You lean over him and brush your lips against his, at first sweet and delicate, then a little deeper. The kiss is bittersweet, full of tears, longing, love, pain, madness and desire.

“I love you, my mate.”

“I love you, my mate,” he says with a smile but claims your mouth in another kiss in the next moment. This one is deeper, hungrier, a dance of tongues and lips.

You are both breathless when you part, your hands resting atop his heaving chest, not all the wounds from the war now having healed yet, but bandages protecting them. 

“Shall we get up?” Azriel asks, his tone a little lighter, sparkles glittering in his hazel eyes. “We have a lot of rebuilding to do, don’t we?”

You have started to rebuild the Middle with help of the Wild Hunt, your mate and some of his family members. Both Rhysand and Feyre apologised and told you that they could, for the time being, not return to the middle — their experiences and what was done to them here has been too traumatising to be yet ready to return here.

You understood of course.

But the Valkyries join you a lot, helping you greatly.

“I think that rebuilding can wait a little longer, Azriel,” you hum and kiss his jaw. “There are other things I want to do now.”

“Other things?” Azriel drawls and pulls your leg over his waist. “What other things?”

You let your fingers dance up his chest, before curling them around his neck, bringing him in for another kiss. “Oh you know exactly what other things.” Your lips curl against his when you press against his front. 

And oh does he know! Making love to you for the rest of the morning, before you head outside and start to work on your house and the large garden beyond.

general tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @azrielsmate2 @callmeblaire @lilah-asteria @berryzxx

[th3casscad3]

Can I get a Alastor x emotionally and physically abused doe reader. Doe is only in hell because she killed her abusers and herself in the process. She can't stand being touched but had no choice when Alastor is tending to her wounds. She is self conscious about her scars.

My Little Doe Alastor X Emotional Abused Reader (Angst/Fluff) You, A Angel In Hell And Victim Of Abuse Found Yourself Running. Running Fast From Your Abusers On Earth. Your Body Shaking As Your Wounds Bled Out. Running. You Had To Get Away, You Wouldnt Let Them Hurt You Again. That Was Until You Heard Their Screams And found Yourself Facing A Man Who Looked Similar To Yourself, A Deer Man. In A Flash You Both Were Teleported To His Radio Tower..

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once You Entered The Radio Tower You Scurried Around Looking For An Escape. The Idea Of You Now Being Confined To The Same Room As The Deer Man Who You Now Recognized As The Radio Demon Was Un-nerving. You Squeaked Out As You Yanked On The Locked Door. Alastor Simply Ignored You And Went To Reach For Something. Your Eyes Darted To His Location And Watched Him In Fear. This Was It You Thought, You Were Gonna Die. Again. Your Body Trembled And You Backed Yourself Up Into A Corner. You Were So Focused On Not Trying To Die That You Hadnt Even Noticed The Aching Of Your Wounds. Your Blood Trickling Down To The Ground. You Suddenly Felt Your Body Stumble And Your Vision Became Hazy. Alastor Glanced At You Before Quickly Rushing Over To Help You Stay Up. It Took You A Second To Register What Was Happening And When You Did Your Body Jolted Away From Him. Your Breath Quicken As You Tumbled To The Floor. You Hit Your Bottom Hard, Your Wounds Sending A Shiver Up Your Spine. You Finally Spoke " Please Dont Hurt Me! I.. I Swear I'll Do Anything You Ask, Just Dont Touch Me! " Your Voice Was Desperate. Your Eyes Locking Into His As If In A Blink You'd Be Dead. Alastors Smile Nearly Faltered But He Gave You A Reassuring Smile As He Slowly Approached You Again. His Gaze Was Soft And You Felt A Certain Pull. Your Doe Ears Perked Up And You Breathing Slowed. You Felt Calm Around Him. " Darling Doe, It Isnt My Intention To Hurt You. You're Wounded. Let Me Help You, My Dear. " Alastor Reached His Hand Out To You, Giving You The Power To Either Take It Or Deny Him. You Hesitated Taking His Hand. You Had Been So Afraid On Contact After What Happened With Your Abusers. Alastor Saw This But He Needed To Touch You In Order To Heal Your Wounds. So, He Reached Out And Touched Your Shoulder. You Jerked Back And Your Body Shook Before Noticing How Gentle His Touch Was, Your Body Still Tensed Up However. With Alastor's Free Hand He Grabbed His Medical Kit And Opened It Up. " Try To Relax My Little Doe. Keep Your Eyes On Me, Okay. We Can Count Together And Take Deep Breaths. But I Really Need To Treat Your Wounds Before You Die From Blood Loss. Please. " You Took A Deep Breath, Keeping Your Eyes On Alastor. He Smiled Gently At You As He Started To Treat Your Wounds, With Each Contact Of His Hands Your Body Jerked. When It Did, Alastor Froze And Took A Deep Breath With You. Eventually He Finished Tending To All Your Wounds. By That Time Alastor And You Were Long Into A Conversation, Getting To Know Each One Another. He Gently Removed His Hands From You And Allowed You Space To Breath. He Praised You And Gave You A Lollipop. Sure, It Was A Little Childish But It Meant A Lot To You. From That Moment Forward You Clung Onto Alastor. You Never Let Anyone Else Touch You Unless It Was Him, He Had Helped You At Your Lowest And You Both Learned To Love Affection. He Was Your Protector, Your Sun In The Storm Of Abuse. Your Light In The Tunnel. He Was Yours And You Were His. A Deer And His Little Doe. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Sorry If This Is A Little Short. I Fought Going Into Detail And Explaining More About It Because Its A Sensitive Topic To Some People. If You Are Or Have Ever Been A Victim Of Abuse In Any Kind Know That I Am With You And I Am Proud Of You For Simply Waking Up In The Morning. You Are Strong And You Are Independent. YOU HAVE SUPPORT. If You Ever Feel The Need, Reach Out To Me And We Can Talk. I Too Am A Survivor Of Abuse. I Am With You All The Way. I Love You So Very Much ❤️❤️

[kiwismitten]

Can I make a request please? Jjk guys noticing y/n hasn't been eating. I read one fairly recently and as someone struggling with the same issue, it just hit me in all the right places. I totally understand if you give this a hard pass since it can be triggering for others. Thank you

No problem <3! I get it, and I struggle sometimes too, and if anyone reading this just needs an ear to listen to msg me i’m not like an advice giver but i can listen.

sorry its only satosugu, i was gonna do sakuna too but he would be a dick about it. and Shoko is involved in both because, shes a cutie.

‼️CW. PLEASE READ: disordered eating , body image issues in gojo's ‼️

Geto and gojo (Separate)

Geto Suguru

Suguru would probably notice the fastest. I feel like he’s struggled with eating before, like when gojo was worried that he lost weight. and for him it gets bad after tough missions, so when he notices you struggling, he’ll pick up on it. (also no defection since i just want everyone to be happy and get alongplsplspls)

After returning to the apartment you share with Geto after a long mission, you practically collapse onto the couch. Your clothes are torn, and you have scrapes across every inch of exposed skin. Leaving the bedroom, hearing the front door shut, Suguru walks over to your beat up form.

"y/n." He speaks softly but stern.

"Suguru-" whatever you were about to say is interrupted by him picking you up. You protest weakly.

"I'm bringing you to Shoko, that was like a two-week-long mission." He notices you're lighter but doesn't mention it. "They should've let me go with you, those damn higher ups."

"Sugu they're just some scrapes it's fine" You protest weakly, but he's already on the way to Shoko, "She's tending to the first year that was with me." he scoffs at that.

"She can multitask just fine, or, i say, just let that kid die." He chuckles softly and you smile at the sound. You had to throw yourself between the first year and a grade one spirit. The higher-ups only told you there would be grade three and four so you can introduce the new student, but once again they proved themselves to be incompetent.

Kicking the door open to the infirmary, Shoko immediately gets ready to scold a certain white haired sorcerer, but seeing it was Geto she walks over observing you in his arms. The first year peeks around the curtain, gasping at the sight of you in the taller male's arms.

"A-ah miss Shoko it's them! I told you they were more hurt than me." the short first year cries, his hair covering one of his eyes. Shoko looks you over and eventually flicks your forehead, making you cry out.

"Sho what was that for i'm injured!" You cry out as Suguru sets you on the infirmary bed.

"Yeah so why didn't you come here?" She glares down at you. Cleaning your wounds.

"They're just some scrapes." Shoko is poking and prodding at you, and she gasps slightly when she touches your back. Suguru watches knowingly, he felt it too, the way your bones poked at his arms as he carried you. Shoko gives a look at Geto, and he nods to let her know that he's aware of your toxic habit of not eating properly on missions. She sighs, giving in and wrapping you in bandages to let the two of you on your way.

Leaving the Infirmary, Suguru insists on carrying you. Walking up the stairs to your apartment, you pout, hating being carried. Opening the door up, he sits you down at your dining table. Walking over to the kitchen. All you hear is the beeping of the microwave, and the delicious smell of your favorite take-out food. He brings you practically a feast, complete with your favorite dessert.

"eat." he states firmly. You poke at the food, having not had a proper meal for the entirety of the mission, unsure of what to do, your bandaged arms feeling stiff under his pressuring gaze. Suguru sighs, taking the spoon from you, creating a bite and holding it up to your mouth. Practically moaning at the taste of the food, Suguru sighs in relief. "y/n… they're making your missions longer, you can't keep doing this."

You freeze up at his statement. He always made you a big meal after your missions, but you never realized it was because he knew.

"I'll even pack you meals if you need me to... when i picked you up earlier, and you were so light, and you felt so fragile. I didn't realize how bad it could get if they keep you away so long." His voice is almost cracking as he fumbles to prepare you another bite. Your eyes meet his soft ones.

"i'm sorry suguru.." Your voice is soft. "i'll try to be better with it..." making promises feels like too much right now, but he's just happy that you'll try.

(Suguru does end up making you food to bring with you on every mission after this)

Gojo Satoru

Satoru notices after he brings home your favorites, and you don't eat like you normally do. He's observant, and is way more pushy than Suguru. When he learns it's from insecurities, he will make you feel like royalty every time he sees you.

Going on a run through the High School grounds, you observe the visiting school from Kyoto. Satoru introduced you to his old classmates Mei Mei and Utahime, you studied at the Kyoto location, and transferred to the Tokyo one after graduation. Mei Mei is beautiful, slim and even with her face covered she's glowing with beauty. Then Utahime, she speaks back to Satoru a lot of bantering, but it kind of seems like she genuinely doesn't like him. Satoru teases her a lot, making you doubt your standings with him a bit. You weren’t really officially dating, so were you really in the right to feel jealous?

"Yo y/n! Mei Mei Utahime and I are gonna grab some lunch at that café you like wanna join?" You freeze slightly sweat making your shirt stick to you, would you be intruding on the two if you joined them?

"Ah no Satoru, I uh had planned to grab some food with Shoko!" You lie through your teeth, knowing that you'll just be returning to your quarters and staring at yourself in the mirror wondering what Utahime has that you don't. Satoru makes a face since he had already asked Shoko to join, but she said she was busy.

"ah okay! I'll just bring back your favorite then?" He looks a little disappointed, you normally jump at the opportunity to hang out with him. You nod your head waving your goodbyes and walking off to your campus apartment provided by the school.

After slipping inside you walk to the bathroom looking at the mirror poking at your skin. You glance at your skin, it's not as glowy as Mei Mei's maybe you can ask for her skincare routine... Utahime has his cute energy surrounding her, even in this grim line of work, how do you get that? In the end your mind wanders back to Mei Mei, her body was gorgeous, slim and her uniform hugged her making her look so elegant and beautiful. You sigh dejected, deciding to work out in your bedroom.

After a few hours, you're absolutely soaked in sweat, and you hear a knock at your door. Opening it to see the blindfolded strongest sorcerer holding a bag adorning the logo of the café he was at. You wipe the sweat off your face smiling at his gesture.

"I wasn't sure what you wanted so I just got you two of the things I saw you order before!" He smiles widely, inviting himself in making u scoff.

"ahh yes come in Satoru," You have your yoga mat set out on the floor along with some adjustable weights. He looks at them, cocking an eyebrow, setting your food on the table.

"Weren't you on a run before I went out to eat? You're still working out?" Even with his sunglasses you could feel his eyes piercing through you.

"Ah yeah had to work off what Shoko and I ate-" He stares at you.

"Shoko called me and asked to get her food since she was hungry." He states blankly. "y/n why are you lying to me?"

Your hands go clammy, you should've asked Shoko to cover for you, sighing you look at Satoru.

"i'm just trying to lose some weight, that's all," you try smiling at him but his sour expression doesn’t leave him.

"Skipping meals isn't trying to lose weight y/n." he's now standing arms crossed. "what brought all this on?" You avoid the feeling of his eyes peering into your soul as he pulls his sunglasses down on his nose.

"n-nothing i just wanted to be a bit slimmer" He lets out a humorless laugh.

"y/n stop. lying." He's always been scary when he's serious.

"Fine i just, it's stupid," he looks at you to continue. "Look I know we're not dating, but I just got jealous!" He's a bit taken aback by your outburst. "Mei Mei and Utahime have been getting all your attention, and i just thought- I thought I needed to be more like them..." your voice trails off.

"y/n..." He's back over to you trapping your body between his arms. "I'm sorry, I haven't been doing my job," You look up at him confused. "I only want to make you feel special because I like you for you, why would I want you to change? I only flirt with you y/n" He lets go leading you to the table and pulling out a chair for you.

"okay now eat please before it gets cold," He pulls out the ungodly amount of food he purchased.

"Satoru- why did you get so much food?" You gawk at the sheer volume.

"wasn't sure what my darling would want," He flashes that dumb grin and you sigh, opening one of the boxes. Fixing yourself a plate you start eating happily. "See? Isn't that nicer than being hungry" He digs through the bag again finding some sweets that were meant for you, but he takes one.

"satoru if you eat my favorite flavor you'll be a past tense-" He nearly choked on his bite.