#i got sucked into the endless void of them all

[flufallo]

Um.... I found a random quote generator

Cat king: Hello all, it is I, your favorite person.

Charles: Actually, Edwin is my favourite.

Cat king: Okay then, it is I, that bitch.

Edwin: Do you have a self-care routine?

Jenny: "Keep going bitch" said to myself in different accents.

Charles : Do you guys want to see a butterfly?

Niko: Ooh, yes please!

Jenny, with their laptop open: I'm not going to stop working to look at a stupid bug!

Charles: It's not a bug though...

Jenny: ...

Niko: ...

Jenny: Well I still don't want to see.

Niko, realizing: Please don't throw-

Charles : Whee! *throws a stick of butter*

Monty: Edwin keeps forgetting which WiFi network they're supposed to use.

Monty: So I renamed ours to "Edwin, use this one" to help them out a little.

Charles: How would you like your coffee?

Crystal : As dark and as bitter as my soul.

Charles, shouting to someone behind the counter: I need one vanilla latte with extra cream and sugar!

Cat king: Fuck you.

Esther : No u.

Cat king: I'm down.

Esther : You're like 2, what the fuck-

Cat king: I AM NOT 2!

Cat king: Monty is a strings kid. We must sacrifice them to the band gods.

Charles: Yes.

Crystal : You're right. It'd be a good initiation for me.

Monty: Wait, guys, what about the truce we signed-

Charles: What truce?

Cat king: *sigh* The truce that we must destroy all the choir kids and leave the strings alone.

Esther : Wait, I'm a choir kid!

Everyone else: *prepares for sacrifice*

Squad reactions to being called straight:

Jenny: The fuck, no I'm not.

Edwin : Excuse the hell out of you?

Cat king: Ding dong, you are wrong!

Charles: Who told you that? And why did they lie?

Niko: Rude.

Esther : *punches the person*

Cat king: FIGHT ME, YOU NERD ASS SLUT!

Esther : At least try to sound slightly more sophisticated when you threaten someone.

Cat king: Oh, I'm sorry. I should ask; dost thou want to engage in a duel, my good bitch?

Esther : Somehow that's worse

Jenny: Well, if you're not at least a little bit gay for your friends, then what kind of friend are you?

Monty: What makes a bigger memory than a passionate kiss?

Edwin: A stab wound.

Jenny: You are now one day closer to eating your next plate of nachos.

Monty: That's the most hopeful thing I've ever heard.

Niko: But what if I die tomorrow and never eat any nachos?

Crystal : Then tomorrow is nacho lucky day.

Niko: I just want someone to take me out.

Crystal : On a date?

Cat king: With a sniper gun?

Esther : Both if you're not a coward.

Esther : OKAY, YOU KNOW WHAT?! TIME OUT! GET ON TOP OF THE FRIDGE! GET UP THERE!

Monty: *Climbing* THIS HOUSE IS A FUCKING NIGHTMARE!!!

Cat king: Is this mistletoe?

Edwin: Uh, no, no, that is basil.

Cat king: Too bad cause if it was mistletoe I was gonna kiss you.

Edwin: Yeah, no, it’s still basil.

Charles: You know what’s funny about Edwin? They’re my best friend, and anyone who’d hurt them is someone I’d murder, probably.

Charles: I’ve only had Edwin for a day and a half but if anything happened to them I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.

Cop: What are your names?

Esther: Don't tell them, Cat king.

Cop, writing: Cat king...

Esther: Crap.

Cat king: Nice going, Esther.

Cop:

Cat king: Uh oh.

Monty: I’m taking a look at your numbers, and it doesn’t look good. You have a lot of measurements. Quite a few variables.

Charles: Is that… bad?

Monty: Variables are the #1 risk factor for outcomes. The past is a big contributor to the future.

Charles: Isn’t that just causality?

Monty: Causality is the leading cause of death in this country.

Charles: So what are my odds?

Monty: Do you have a family history?

Charles: Of what?

Monty: Just, in general.

Charles: …Yes?

Monty: Oh no.

Niko, texting Edwin : *sends a voice message*

Edwin , texting back: I’m a little busy, is it urgent?

Niko: No, don’t worry, just listen later.

*later*

Edwin : *presses play*

Niko's voice message: THERE’S A FIRE-

Monty: Onion rings are vegetable donuts.

Esther , used to Monty being dumb: Sure...

Monty: Your stomach thinks all potatoes are mashed.

Esther : Okay?

Monty: Lasagna is spaghetti flavored cake.

Esther :

Monty: Lobsters are mermaid scorpio-

Esther : Jesus, that one is a little-

Jenny, interested: No, no, Monty, keep going.

Crystal : But we’re friends! I was building up to calling you a nickname soon!

Edwin: That’ll never happen! In fact, you just lost “Edwin” privileges. From now on, you can call me by my last name or ‘Hey, you.’.

Crystal : Come on, Edwin.

Edwin: *glares*

Crystal : Come on, Hey you.”

Crystal : That shirt looks great, Charles.

Charles: Thanks.

Crystal : But I bet it would look even better on Edwin's floor.

Edwin: Are you hitting on Charles... for me?

Cat king: What do we think of Monty?

*pause*

Charles: *sighs* Nice pal.

Crystal : I think they're gay.

Esther : What am I supposed to do?

Monty: If I were you? I’d try and make peace with whatever deity, pantheon, or Divine Other you believe in.

Esther : I’m an atheist.

Monty: Then just get ready to die I guess

*playing twister*

Crystal : Right hand red.

Charles: *ends up on top of Edwin *

Edwin: You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?

Crystal : I stopped spinning like 15 minutes ago. Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't notice

Cat king: So... who's the big spoon and who's the little spoon?

Edwin: We're chopsticks!

Cat king: Well... that's cute!

Cat king: Does that mean you two snuggle together perfectly?

Charles: No, it means that if you take the other away, the only thing the other is good for is stabbing.

Monty: Do you want to play 20 Questions?

Edwin: Sure!

Edwin: Whats your favorite color?

Monty, laser fucking focused: Triangle. Do you like men?

Edwin: I love the term 'partners'. Are we dating? Are we robbing a bank? Are we the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious felonies and are members of an elite squad known as the special victims unit? Who knows

Cat king, to Esther : All right, let’s tell each other a secret about ourselves. I’m going to go first– I hate you.

Cat king: I’m a bad person, I’m a very bad person, I’m a horrible person.

The Squad:

Cat king: No you’re not, Cat king! We still love you, Cat king!

Esther : This should be illegal!

Jenny: It is.

Jenny: What scares you guys the most?

Charles: Werewolves!

Niko: Sharks.

Edwin: The unstoppable marching of time that is slowly guiding us all towards an inevitable death.

Monty:

Monty: Edwin.

Charles: What do you think Cat king will do for a distraction?

Edwin: They'll probably, like, make a noise or throw a rock. That's what I would do.

*Building explodes and several car alarms go off*

Edwin: ...or they could do that.

Charles: Pfft, you should meet Niko, they're such a tsundere.

Monty: They... they just stabbed you.

Charles: So cute.

Cat king: All in all, a 100% successful trip.

Niko: But we lost Esther .

Cat king: All in all, a 100% successful trip!

*Cat king falls over*

Monty: Cat king! Are you alright?

Cat king: Is that you, God?

Monty: What?

Cat king: It's just, you sound a lot more like Monty than I expected.

[anachronistic-falsehood]

every time i get into a new media i end up thinking of a teen beach movie au for it. i never do anything w these aus but there r so fun 2 just play with in my head like barbies <3

[luneariaa]

ᯓ★٠ ࣪⭑ UNSPOKEN. ✧ KENJI S. { 𝐈 }.

✰ — PART 1 ; mentions of kenji having some deep; untold sadness, emi mention, the reader being the sunshine friend to kenji + having close relationship.

✰ — probably will have more two - three parts of the story! tried to fit in one part, but it doesn't work somehow ( ╥ω╥ ) to those who wanted to be tagged in the next future parts, feel free to comment or send me an ask <33 !! ✩₊˚. PART 2.

. dividers by @/strangergraphics ⛓ !!

GROWING UP, for almost his entire life, KENJI— regardless of the increase of popularity and fame, doesn't really have that much of friends. Does he even have them at this point? He doesn't really have anyone that he could actually rely on; even trusted fully.

Despite everything from the outside of one's possible perspective, he's still the lonely, sweet boy deep down. None has ever truly cracked his persona down and managed to bring out his true self, which a part of him is glad for some reason— but the other, not so much.

The attention that he has received all over the world doesn't really mean anything, not what he silently craved and secretly desperate for.

Companionship, someone who actually cares about his wellbeing as a whole despite his ongoing status.

Yes, of course, he loves the fact that he's able to accomplish something that's quite significant to him, at least— getting all of the attention that they think he truly deserved, but there will always be this one void within his heart; as if begging to be fixed with something that even he himself wasn't so sure about it.

His mansion may have everything that he ever needed, but it still feels bleak, somehow, no matter what he's trying to do. What's the point of having large spaces, when in the end, the mere silence will be his only company?

Kenji doesn't even realize it, but sometimes, he ended up just staring blankly at the empty gaps of his surroundings; feeling lost at the said moment.

His world has been nothing but simply revolving around his stardom life as much as the realization hits him; an endless, monochromatic-colored world that he tacitly faced alone with some fair, or unfair number of struggles.

"Must be a tough day today, yeah Ken?"

"You should take some more needed breaks, at least!" He swiftly got pulled out of his train of thoughts, eyes immediately glancing to the source of sound. This is his reality now, not the one that he keeps on unconsciously reminiscing of.

"Pushing yourself too hard wouldn't be too good for your health, y'know." A euphonious voice scolded him lightly, accompanied with a bright, albeit concerned grin.

Kenji now took notice of you standing by the doorway; your smile remained despite the visible apprehensive look that was directed towards him. Completely aware of the mere truth behind your words alone, he averts his gaze back elsewhere— cracking a small, yet almost forceful of a smile as if he's trying to ease down your concerns.

"Yeah, you got a point. It's just the usual, I guess," he scratches the back of his head while lazily slouching on the bed. "It's not me if I don't mope over some pointless stuff."

"Well, it's not that pointless if it bothers you." You exhale out, gradually pulling him out of the bed.

"Maybe we can try something for the day— maybe you wanted to play baseball for a bit? I'll watch 'cuz you know I suck at those."

He couldn't hold back the snort from escaping, which earned a disapproving pout from you, but nonetheless, you added further.

"Or we could just play around with baby Emi as always! Or both, I don't know.."

"Perhaps that could at least ease your mind for a bit..?"

He could clearly sense your efforts; chuckling as he knows that he doesn't have any other plausible choices, but to simply follow your lead without any complaints. When it comes to you, Kenji knew it would always be futile to try anything quite the contrary from it.

"That sounds nice, actually." A genuine smile, despite the hints of his exhaustion, tugged at the corner of his lips. Has he even noticed it himself on how easy it is for you to coax him out of his shell? "Playing with Emi sounds amazing."

Kenji admitted along with a smirk being present by now, replacing his previous smile while doing some mini stretches here and there.

"I know!" You merely giggled over his words, "Besides, I just know that the baby already misses you. I fed her earlier too, in case you're wondering!" His pretty, midnight-colored eyes seemed to brighten up after you finished speaking for a bit.

"At this rate, I think you're spoiling her a bit too much," he castigated facetiously, earning an eyeroll from you when one of his hands ended up atop of your head— giving it a playful ruffle.

"Well, what can I say.."

"She's just a cute, big baby."

His genuine smile returned in mere seconds, finding the whole idea to be quite endearing; causing for him to feel the warmth that's starting to blossom within his chest. He's totally aware of his whole responsibility at this point— unintentionally, yet welcoming the idea of becoming a father to the baby kaiju, now willingly to take care of her because she's one of the reasons that actually changed him for the better.

Throughout the whole conversation that the two of you have shared with one another, it seemed as if the burdens on his shoulders has been lifted away; the atmosphere becoming more comfortably lighter than before without you even realizing it yourself.

Kenji doesn't even know how, but your sole presence has something in particular that keeps him grounded, and he values you deeply for that.

Even with such mystery that's been shrouding around you, it never really bothered him that much; respecting your boundaries and taking an immediate notice on how you seemed to be uncomfortable with talking about your own past and parents, in a way. He assumed that something might have happened before, hence the vague details you kept telling him— no irritation present ever.

Maybe someday, you'll have the courage to tell him. But for now, you would rather keep it a secret.

@luneariaa. do not repost; reblogs are welcomed. all rights reserved.

[doeidawn]

☁︎ — helping hand

kyle was always a good friend to you, a shoulder to cry on and a hand to hold when times got rough. maybe it was a good thing that your biggest problem as of late was a (seemingly endless) cycle of bad boyfriends. but kyle can't stand to see you upset; not when he knows just how well he can help you. 5.4k

⟢ pairing: gaz x f!reader

⟢ tags: MDNI/18+; one-time fwb turns into two-times; reference to previous sexual encounters; technically hurt/comfort—reader has shitty ex-bfs; smoking; gaz is a tease; oral sex [f receiving]; fingering; couch sex; unprotected piv sex (wrap it before you tap it); praise; slight possessive gaz if you squint; increasingly desperate sex; handjob; semi-awkward aftercare; i do not know how to end long fics sorry it's lame

It’s been a while since you and Kyle hooked up.

Eight months, to be exact. Nearly a year. Thankfully, everything was still okay between you two. He was a close friend—a good friend—and hooking up didn’t seem to change much about that. If anything, it only improved things; there was no lingering tension simmering in the air on late nights. No more wondering how his hands and lips would feel on your skin or yearning to hear him whisper filth in your ear. And even though it seemed surreal to remember the way he felt against you, it was over after that one time.

So you moved on. Even though your body begged for more and every fantasy seemed to circle back to him, you moved on.

In fact, Kyle was nothing but supportive of moving on. He was among the first to learn every time you started talking to someone new. He cared enough to vet the guys you met whenever he could, the major downside being that his criteria of “worthy of dating you” seemed very strict. So strict that none of them ever really fulfilled it. But you always assumed it was because Kyle cared about you and wanted you safe with a guy who knew your worth. Truthfully, he was the most supportive wingman you could’ve asked for.

It was a bittersweet feeling. You had to wonder if the night you shared replayed in his head as often as your own. He was the best you ever had, no doubt about it, but you knew it wasn’t in your best interest to yearn for your best friend. But, goddamn, was his embrace a hard one to find a replacement for.

Try as he may to keep you safe and prevent any heartbreak, it was, unfortunately, inevitable. Despite all of his efforts to keep you away from guys who were so clearly just using you, he couldn’t have known you were desperate enough to fill the void that you couldn’t stop yourself from lunging at the promise of a warm body. It was never worth it in the end. Every time, without fail, you’d run back to Kyle to cry on his shoulder. It sucked. But he was always the greatest help.

And, as much as you hated yourself for it, that’s exactly where you found yourself again. Sat on his sofa while you blow snot into tissues and smoke through his cigarettes just to rant about your latest failure of a date. You felt no better than the subjects of whatever trashy television was playing on the screen; originally intended to laugh at for distraction, now only reminding you how pitiful you felt. 

Like always, Kyle had a reassuring hand rubbing your back, nice enough to nod along to your sputtering and curses, as nonsensical as they were. He was so nice, and it made you feel like shit whenever you came around with another sob story.

You run a hand over your puffy eyes, wiping away another stream of tears from your cheeks. “M’sorry, Kyle. I didn’t mean to come over n’ cause a scene.”

“You’re alright, love.” The reassurance was nice, and it felt genuine, but it didn’t necessarily change how you felt.

“No, I’m not. I’m a fuckin’ mess.” A self-deprecating laugh leaves your lips as you run another tissue over your raw and red nose. “You think I’d learn a thing or two by now.”

“Don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault those guys don’t know a perfect woman when they’ve got her.”

You roll your eyes at that. “‘A perfect woman’.” The thought makes you scoff. You felt anything but perfect. “Do I look like a perfect woman right now?”

“‘Course you do.” Kyle brings his other hand close and, for a moment, you think he’s going to hold your hand. Instead, he plucks away the cigarette hanging lazily between your fingers. “Smoking’s not a good look, though.”

“They’re your cigarettes.”

“Ah, that’s neither here nor there.” He takes a puff of his own before leaning forward to stub out the cigarette in an ashtray on the coffee table. “Never said I was perfect, did I?”

“You seem to have your shit together better than me.” You throw your tissue towards a bin Kyle had brought near the sofa once your crying had started. “I’m an idiot for not listenin’ to you.”

“Well, beatin’ yourself up over it isn’t gonna solve anythin’.”

“But it’s true. You warn me all the time about these guys. It’s either one boring date or a hookup just for…mediocre sex. At best.” Kyle scoffs at that. “And…then it’s over.”

Leaning back against the sofa, you run your hands over your face again. Frustration gnaws at you, tugging at the back of your mind and filling you with some unnamed emotion that makes everything feel bitter. It wasn’t Kyle’s fault for not knowing why you were so hard on yourself. It’s not like he knew it was him you were trying to replace.

You huff an exasperated sigh. “I’m just…frustrated. I can’t remember the last time a guy made me feel…good. Made me feel wanted.”

There’s a beat of silence, and Kyle nods his head in thought like he’s debating his inner monologue. He settles back against the sofa next to you. 

“I can.”

Two simple words and yet they make your heart feel like it’ll jump out of your chest. Choking on your breath felt preferable to meeting his gaze. 

“Oh, shut up.” You laugh, but you aren’t sure it’s because you found it funny. 

His hand finds its way to your thigh, the warmth of his touch seeping through your sweatpants. “You could have that again, you know. We could have that again.” You almost hate how hopeful he sounds.

You aren’t sure what to say. It must show on your face, you figure, when you notice his smile from the corner of your eye.

It would be a total and utter lie to pretend you haven’t thought about the possibility a million times over. As if you haven’t had to remember the way his touch felt so you could get yourself off when every other man couldn’t. But every time, without fail, the nastiest guilt would purge those thoughts away, ashamed of yourself for thinking about something he never seemed to bother remembering. 

But now he was proposing to do it all over again. And you wanted to. You wanted to so badly.

“Kyle…” Your throat is dry when you finally manage to utter the words. “I thought you…I assumed it was just a one-time thing…”

“It doesn’t have t’be.”

Of course it does, you want to argue. It wasn’t fair the way his touch had you yearning for something you shouldn’t want. But the more you thought about it, the less you wanted to fight it. 

His soft voice fills the silence as his thumb brushes over your thigh. “It’s what you deserve; someone who can make you feel good. And wanted.”

“I thought you only did that because I was…frustrated.”

“Mm. And you’re frustrated now, aren’t you?” 

It’s a simple question, but his tone is dulcet and sweet like he’s trying to seduce you. Truthfully, you feared it was working. Goddamn tease.

“I…suppose you could say that.” You concede, almost fighting the smile forming on your lips.

Kyle’s hand slides off of your thigh before snaking behind you, slotting perfectly on your curves as his arm wraps around your waist. “It certainly seems that way to me.” He leans in closer and your heart leaps into your throat when the warmth of his breath hits your cheek. “I don’t mind helpin’ you out again.”

You hope he doesn’t notice how tense you are, how your lips quiver as you finally bring yourself to speak. “Are…are you serious..?”

A small laugh escapes him as he pulls you closer. His lips press small, gentle kisses on the underside of your jaw, each one sending a shiver down your spine. You can practically feel the blood pumping hurriedly through your veins. He didn’t have to say anything to tell you how serious he was.

Heat pools in your core when his other hand slides up your thigh. More insistent than the last time, his fingers rub and knead at the pliant flesh hidden beneath your clothes. Your nerves come alight, sensitive to every brush of his fingers as they move inward on your body.

You tilt your head enough to catch Kyle’s attention. Placing a hand on his cheek when his nose brushes yours, you impatiently close the gap between your mouths. It’s a gentle kiss, but there’s an undoubtable hunger in it. Almost instantly, you feel the tension leave your body, replaced by an insatiable need that gnaws at your core.

He completely bombarded your senses. His smell in your nostrils, his touch on your curves, his taste on your lips—everything about him had your head spinning. It’s too much and too little all at the same time.

The movement of your hips was an impulsive one; a plea for him to hurry up or give you more. The whine that left you was a pathetic sound that escaped your mouth and filled his.

You could feel Kyle smile against you, his grip on your waist tightening. “Christ, you’re really impatient, huh?”

“Shut up, Kyle,” you pant. He wasn’t wrong; your patience was worn thin at this point. It was almost torturous to feel so needy.

“Easy, baby,” he coos against your lips. As riled up as you were, calming down wasn’t a simple ask, but you willed yourself to listen. The way he spoke to you made your body want to obey his every command. “I know what you need.”

When his mouth meets yours for another series of hungry kisses, you could feel his hand move higher up your thigh. His touch was intentionally light, a tease to leave you wanting more. And it did. It took everything in your power to keep still when his fingertips brushed over the space between your thighs.

But you couldn’t stop yourself when his hand finally dipped beneath the waistband of your sweatpants. You could feel how slick and desperate you were before his fingertips brushed over your panties. He groans into your mouth when he finds the wetness seeping through the fabric, cupping your cunt to feel you squirm.

“Oh, you poor thing. You needed this so bad, didn’t you?” You can almost sense some sincerity in his tease. Almost. 

You’re moaning against his lips before you can form your own tease. Kyle’s touch grows more insistent, his fingers dragging up and down your wet panties until he starts gently circling your clit. Your nails dig into his arm, hips rocking into his makeshift rhythm. Already sensitive from being neglected, the rough and wet fabric against your clit leaves you whining and groaning pathetically under his touch.

“Fuck, baby, you sound so needy.” You could hear the smile in his voice. Your heavy eyes watch his gaze rake over your body to ogle the way your legs spread. 

“Don’t…don’t tease me, Ky…” You groan between broken breaths and gasps. Your hips roll eagerly, bucking against the steady pressure of his fingertips. “C’mon, touch me. Please.”

You don’t mean to whine when his hand slides out from underneath your clothes. “Really impatient, aren’t we?” He mutters under his breath like he hadn’t meant for you to hear him before settling his hand on your hip. “I told you, I know what you need.”

You don’t get the chance to ask him to hurry up before he’s pulling your hips along the sofa cushions, guiding your body until you’re laid out on the furniture. You trusted him—even when you weren’t ferociously horny for his touch, you trusted him—and knew he’d make the wait worth it.

His fingers hook on the hem of your sweatpants, tugging it and your panties down your outstretched legs. The cool air hits your wet flesh and sends goosebumps over your skin. Your clothes are discarded somewhere on the floor before Kyle settles between your legs, bent down and crunched on the sofa until his face is level with your cunt.

Arms wrapped around your thighs, he kisses along the soft skin, alternating sides and nipping occasionally to feel the muscle underneath tense. As impatient as you were, you watched with rapt attention as his eyes focused on your slick cunt, sensitive enough to twitch every time you felt his breath hit.

One of his hands runs over your thigh until his rough fingertips are spreading you open. He smiles, smirking as if proud of himself. “You missed me, huh?”

You didn’t know if that was a comment on your impatience or how wet you were. Maybe both. “Maybe…just a li’l…” You pant, shivering when his warm breath ghosts over your clit as he laughs.

“Oh, I know you did. You’re fuckin’ dripping, love.”

Kyle’s eyes meet yours before his head dips down and his tongue sticks out to lick a slow stripe up your slit. The wet friction takes your breath away, nails digging into the cushion beneath you to ground yourself. His tongue spreads you apart, lapping at your arousal and gliding over your most sensitive parts.

“You taste just as good as I remember.” His words are muffled against your cunt, almost immediately drowned out by his wet slurps and your moans.

The flat of his tongue circles around your clit before gently sucking it into his mouth. The pressure already has your legs twitching and tensing, shockwaves of pleasure shooting through every nerve. He guides one of your legs up, propped against the back cushion of the sofa, before running his hand down your thigh. 

Fingertips gently caress your cunt, gliding through the mess of your arousal and his saliva, teasing and circling your hole. Two thick digits push inside and the sudden stretch has your hands flying towards Kyle, fingers digging into his short curls, desperate for some part of him to hold on to.

It’s been far too long since you felt this good. Eight months too long. The attention was almost unfamiliar; something overwhelmingly delicious that only he seemed to give you. The way he sucks on your clit while his fingers pump and curl just right makes your head fall back against the armrest. You can feel yourself squeezing his fingers and throbbing against his tongue, that ache in the pit of your stomach already beginning to form.

Kyle groans before sliding his mouth off of you. “Easy, baby. Fuck, you’re grippin’ so tight…” A gentle kiss lands on the inside of your thigh as his fingers curl again. “None of your li’l boyfriends touched you like this, did they?”

If you were any more coherent, you might have said something about how jealous he sounded. But that wasn’t the point right now; right now all you were focused on was how deep his fingers hit, and how right he was.

You shake your head. “No…not like this. Not this good,” you manage to admit between moans.

“Not this good,” he echoes, proudly whispering to himself, before his head dips down again.

His lips latch around your clit again, suckling and running his tongue over it until your hips start to buck. The sounds are disgustingly lewd; wet squelches with every thrust of his fingers, the sloppy sounds of his mouth, and your wanton moans—it’s everything you’d been fantasizing about since the last time he had you. 

Your eyes flutter open as you lift your head off of the armrest. Seeing Kyle, barely fitting himself on the sofa just to ravage you, makes you tighten around his fingers. “Holy shit, Ky. I’m gonna cum. You’re gonna make me cum,” you warn, panting breathlessly. Your toes curl, thighs tensing at the mounting heat in your core.

“Already? Oh, that’s a good girl,” he growls against your cunt. “Cum f’me. C’mon, show me how much you missed me.”

The hunger in his eyes makes you shudder. You were already close to the edge, but with his encouragement, you completely fell apart. With another swirl of his tongue and a harsh thrust of his fingers, your body goes taut with pleasure. The ecstasy that you’ve denied yourself for far too long shoots through your veins until your thighs are shaking.

Kyle hums contentedly at the tightness surrounding his fingers before easing them out. He quickly replaces the emptiness with his tongue, spreading you apart and lapping at your slick cum. He doesn’t pull back until you start to whine. With heavy eyes and a heaving chest, you watch him settle back on his knees, noting the way his lips and chin glisten. 

That unmistakable hunger—desire and determination mixed—is still clear as day in his eyes. He leans over you, lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss, and the taste and smell of yourself floods your senses. You reach out for him, twisting your fingers into his shirt to keep him close.

He groans into your mouth, the mess of tongue and teeth complimented by the sound. His hands find your waist, pushing your shirt up and sliding under layers until he can paw at your chest. You almost whine when one of his hands moves off of you until you hear the metallic jangle of his belt buckle coming undone.

He pulls back just enough to look down at you and your eyes immediately dart to his hand to watch him impatiently tug down his pants. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen his cock, but seeing it now—thick and heavy and warm as it brushes against your skin—makes all the memories from the first time flood your mind. And knowing how good he made you feel before only made you that much more eager.

Kyle wraps a hand around himself, giving his cock a few firm pumps before guiding it towards your wet slit. The head of his cock spreads your cunt and brushes against your sensitive clit with each roll of his hips. You can hear how wet you are, how you coat him in your slick with every movement, and you shudder when he groans.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty when you’re needy,” he sighs. His hand, still kneading your chest under your shirt, slides down to grip your waist firmly. “God, I could look at you like this all day.”

“C’mon…Don’t make me beg.” You coo, trying to coax him as your legs hook over his hips.

“Oh, that’s a good idea.”

“Kyle.”

“You had no problem waitin’ eight months. You can wait a bit longer, right?”

“I swear to God, Kyle, just fuck me—”

Your own shaky moan interrupts your speech, ripped from your throat as Kyle suddenly pushes the head of his cock past your entrance. He leans down to plant a chaste kiss on the side of your parted lips.

“Gotta work on your patience, love.”

You can feel every inch as he slowly eases his thick cock into you. With nails digging into the sofa cushions to ground you amidst the delicious stretch, both of you moan when he finally bottoms out. He stills long enough for you to feel the way your slick walls flutter around him.

Thumbs press gently into the dip of your hips in a reassuring squeeze. “You alright?” He asks, scanning your face for approval. A pathetic nod and an ‘uh-huh’ that sounds more like a whimper escapes your lips. “Nearly forgot how perfect you feel.”

Kyle leans back on his knees, straightening up with a devilish smirk and an even hungrier look in his eye. His pace is slow when he finally begins to rock his hips back and forth. He watches your body intently; ogling at the way your cunt swallows every inch of him, savoring the way you mold around him, keeping an eye out for any sign of discomfort. 

You moan on every downstroke as he fills you with every slow thrust, the head of his cock pushing just right against that sweet spot deep inside. Still so slick and sensitive from your recent orgasm, every nerve feels alight—addicted to the fullness and the way his cock twitches inside you. 

“Oh, fuck.” You whine as your hands search him out, desperate to be even closer. You can feel his muscles tense when your hands run up his arms and hold onto him tightly. “God, you fill me so good…so fuckin’ deep.”

Kyle makes a sound at that, something between a laugh and a groan. “I know, baby,” he coos softly, encouraging your touch when he leans back to pull his shirt off over his head.

There’s no hiding the way you tighten around him when you see his bare skin. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight, but something about watching his muscles tense with every push of his hips made your head spin. He leans closer, just enough for you to reach your hands out and splay your fingers over his chest.

“I needed you so fucking badly.” The confession tumbles from your lips without thought, forced out alongside a moan that proves how true it was. “You make me feel so good. I never—shit—never should’ve looked for someone else.”

His jaw goes tight, a low grunt in the back of his throat his only reply to your admission. His gaze drops from your face to watch where his hips meet yours, but judging by the way his chest rises with heavier, deeper breaths, you aren’t so sure it’s because he’s uncomfortable. 

He’s holding back. 

The thought sends a shiver down your spine and your hips buck in his direction on the next agonizingly slow thrust. “I missed you so much, Kyle.” It wasn’t a lie—your body’s reaction to him was more than enough proof of that—but you wanted to see him let go, to stop being so gentle and kind like he always was. “C’mon, fuck me like you missed me too.”

That does the trick.

Kyle mutters a swear under his breath as his hands move to grab the underside of your thighs, pushing your legs towards your chest. Your hands fall to the sofa cushion at the sudden change in position. His hips slam against yours, one foot planted on the floor so he has complete control as he drives his cock all the way within you. There’s no more finesse, no more charm—just pure need.

Hearing the way you yelp and whine at his newfound desperation makes him curse under his breath again. “I missed you…so fuckin’ much,” he grunts, the words coming out as more of a growl. “Christ, I needed this. Been needin’ you all this time. I couldn’t stop…thinkin’ about you.”

That confession makes your head swim—you wonder if this is how he felt hearing your own admission of missing him. You’d thought about the last encounter countless times, but you never would’ve thought it meant as much to him as it did. The way he pounded into you now made you convinced that he craved this just as badly as you did.

“Yeah?” You whine, smiling pathetically at him. “Oh, God, me too. I needed this, needed you.”

When his eyes meet yours, you see nothing but determination behind his gaze, feral and hungry and needy. His hands dig into the plump skin of your thighs as he holds your legs in place. “Did you think of me when they fucked you? Huh? Did you have to think about my hands? My cock?”

All you can do is nod, frantic and hurried, as a pathetic “uh-huh” is forced from your lungs. Heat pools at the bottom of your stomach, tugging at your sensitive insides with every quick punch of his cock deep inside.

Kyle groans, a deep, guttural sound that makes your slick walls flutter around him. “Yeah, they didn’t make you feel this good, did they? No one can make you feel like I do. No one fills this pretty pussy like I do, huh?”

You can’t even form a proper response, your mind blanking. Your eyes roll back, head lying against the armrest, every muscle so tense yet malleable to his will. Your lack of a response was enough proof he was right; no one else stretched and filled you the way he did. 

You hear him curse again before he speaks through gritted teeth. “I would’ve given you this…any-fucking-time you wanted it. Whenever you needed me.”

Finally releasing the sofa cushion, your hands seek out the warmth of his skin, fingers curling against his arms. You could feel yourself tensing, your cunt hugging every inch of him as he slid in and out. “Ky, I’m…I’m gonna c-cum again—fuck.”

You could almost feel his stare boring through you when his grip tightens on the skin of your thighs. “That’s it, gimme one more. C’mon,” Kyle groans through his encouragement, “I’ve waited eight goddamn months. I need to feel you cum on my cock again.”

You bite your lip to hold back the pathetic moans and whimpers leaving your mouth. It was all wanton and needy—involuntary sounds pushed out of your lungs with every deep, rough thrust. The squelching of your cunt welcoming his cock fills your ears, his skin hitting yours with a satisfying slap each time.

“Let me hear you,” he coaxes, almost desperate. “I know you’re close, baby, you’re gettin’ so tight.”

It didn’t take his encouragement for another set of choked moans to slip past your lips. It was harder and harder to hold back, to fight off the mounting pressure in your core. “Fuck, Kyle, s’too much…”

“S’alright, I got you. Just cum one more time f’me, baby. Just one more.”

Maybe it was his encouragement, maybe it was the possessiveness underlying his tone, maybe it was the way his cock hit so perfectly deep, maybe it was because he was the first guy to make you feel good in months. Whatever the reason was, when you came for the second time, you felt that pleasure in every inch of your body.

Every muscle tenses, taut with pleasure as waves of ecstasy flow through you, flooding every nerve. Your nails dig into his skin and your toes curl until you’re left shaking. Your cunt hugs every inch of him, pulsing and milking him for all that he’s worth as he slowly fucks you through the high with stuttered thrusts.

“That’s it, there you go,” you hear him pant at one point. “Keep going, baby, give it to me.”

Kyle’s own sounds are barely audible as your moans fill the air, but he curses and groans as he watches your body tense and throb and twitch. The obscenely lewd sound of your squelching cunt is even more obvious now with the slick cum coating his cock. 

Just as the last tremors of your orgasm start to fade, he pulls out hastily with a groan. He releases your legs from his grip, and the ache you know you’ll feel soon is pushed to the back of your mind when he leans down to plant a kiss on your lips. 

He pulls back just enough to look down at you, at your flushed sweaty skin, to watch you pant and barely have the energy to look back up at him. “God, you’re so fucking perfect.”

Planting another kiss on your lips, you can feel Kyle shift to wrap a hand around himself. Stroking himself steadily between your legs, his breathing grows heavier between each kiss, the wet sound of his cock covered in your cum sliding against his palm hitting your ears. It’s not until you reach down into the space between your bodies that he stops.

You don’t stop kissing him as you nudge his hand off of his cock to replace his rough, calloused touch with your much softer one. He grunts almost immediately, hips bucking into your hand as it wraps snugly around him. You try to mimic the pace he had set, pumping the length of his cock, the slick of your cum making the movement fluid and easy. 

“Fuck, just like that…” His hands reach past you to grab the cushion beneath your body. You catch a glance of him, watching his eyebrows knit tight on his forehead, before he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

His breath hits your skin, warm and heavy, sending a shiver down your spine as he moans and grunts. His hips stutter as he bucks into your hand a final time, cock twitching as his cum hits your stomach. Your hand works out every drop until he's wincing and pulling his hips away. 

There are a few beats of silence, the only sound being the two sets of heavy breaths as you both come down from a much-needed high. Though your senses start to come back and your body grounds itself against the sofa cushions and his skin, it still doesn’t feel real somehow. But despite being an unbelievable act, you don’t feel any regret this time. 

Kyle’s the first one to move, eventually pulling back enough to look down at you. “Feel better?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Even through heavy eyes, you can’t miss the way he smiles. He sits back on his knees to tuck his softening cock back into his pants and you watch as his eyes study the mess on your stomach before you look at it yourself. Just the sight of his cum pooling on your skin sends warmth directly to your core. He leans over to the table, grabbing what few tissues were left after your earlier crying spells, to clean the mess he’d left on you.

Nothing but silence for a moment as Kyle carefully runs the tissue over your stomach as you bask in the afterglow. It’s all the reassurance about him that you need. There’s an unspoken desire in the warmth of his eyes, in the way he looks at you and caresses your skin like you’re worthy of worship. The way he makes you feel—wanted—has your heart fluttering in your chest.

You eventually break the silence with a sigh. “Thank you, Kyle. I…I do feel better. A lot better.”

“Good. That’s good.” He only looks up to throw the soiled tissues in the bin next to the sofa. “Sorry for, uh…Y’know, makin’ you a mess.” He gestures to the lower half of your body with a shrug.

You raise an eyebrow at that. “Wasn’t that your intention?”

That makes him smile. A shy, almost nervous smile that you aren’t sure you’ve ever seen him wear. “You got me.” One last swipe of the soft tissue against your skin to ensure you’re clean. “At least I’m cleanin’ you up afterward.”

“Yeah, aren’t you just a proper gentleman?”

Your sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed. “Hey, I bet those other blokes never bothered.”

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you roll your eyes at his sentiment. “That’s because those blokes never bothered to make me cum in the first place.” You have to smile at him, at the way he cringes at himself for bringing up your previous partners. “If you want reassurance, you’ve got it. They’ve got nothin’ on you, Garrick.”

“I know, I know. I jus’ like to hear you say it.” Kyle leans down, meeting you halfway for a kiss that’s much softer yet holds the weight of the world behind. His hands skirt over your hips before trailing up your naked skin and resting on your waist. “You need a proper wash. C’mon.”

The ache in your muscles starts to set in as the bliss slowly fades. You groan at the stiffness in your knees when he pulls you up with him to stand on your feet. There’s sweat drying on your back, a familiar stickiness between your legs, and your feet feel unsteady.

But Kyle wraps an arm around you to keep you from stumbling and wobbling on your way to the restroom. His fingertips glided over your skin, tracing curves and dips with reverent ease. He held you like you were porcelain, even after you were in the water. 

Many things could be said about Kyle. Most of them circled back to his generosity, his willingness to help, even when you felt like an unwanted burden. But he gave you everything you could ever want. And maybe one day you’ll realize it’s because he needs your helping hands just as much as you need his. 

[jeonginsleftcheek]

The sun to me

Chapter I: The Seed. Part I.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x afab!reader

word count: 1.8k

chapter summary: a glimpse into the world of hwang hyunjin, the artist and the celebrity.

warnings: swearing, smoking, drugs, one night stand, brief sex scene, hyunjin is an asshole for a few moments

~ Masterlist for the series ~ next part

Click. Click. Click.

The flash of the camera illuminates the room and the almost expressionless face, the owner of said face leaning his body towards one of the canvases hanging on the wall.

One of his many pieces that once only existed in the depths of his mind and heart, spilled onto the canvas adorned with a stylish bronze frame.

The flash once hurt his eyes, but as the time went on and the flashes got more frequent, his eyes adjusted and he became desensitized to the attention.

It was all just a familiar cycle. Sit in front of a blank canvas, prepare your paints, prepare your paintbrushes, prepare your fucking inspiration or at least find it somewhere hidden under a carpet, shoved into a metaphorical hole, sucked into the endless void.

Put it on the wall of your gallery, say some pretentious shit, strike a few poses and act like you're happy and motivated to even live.

Rinse and repeat.

As your admirers scream and throw wads of cash at your feet, be happy, you're living your dream, be happy, you got what you wanted, be happy, your life is perfect.

What was the inspiration for this piece?

Just say some poetic shit and everyone will eat it up, thinking how deep you are, admire the artist, admire the art, admire the lie.

Life is perfect.

Hyunjin looks for a moment of peace. He finds just that, one moment, as he manages to slip away to the balcony. He presses his elbows on the cold, hard stone, leans on his open palms and looks down.

The suit he's wearing makes it hard to move, his body is restricted, tied and held in place, the tie around his neck is secured tightly, almost taking his breath away and suffocating him.

He runs a hand through his styled hair, trying to take in a deep breath, his eyes are fixed on the road, everything looks so tiny from up where he's standing, so insignificant and temporary in time. All the people walking around look like ants, cars look like toys he played with when he was a child, it's a hazy cloud of everything and nothing, moving too fast to make sense of it.

Melancholy lingers in the air, together with the smell of a thunderstorm brewing in the distant dark sky, and he lifts his head up, his hand in his pocket.

Hyunjin fishes out a pack of cigarettes, a damned habit he picked up on after hanging out in many fancy clubs with many fancy people whose noses are white, whose smiles are crooked, whose eyes are dull and hearts tainted.

He curses under his breath, realizing that he had no lighter with him, after all, he didn't smoke daily, it was just a rare occurrence to blow off steam, just an excuse to disappear from the stifling crowd, the loud voices and the unnecessary questions he answered a hundred times before.

Footsteps approach him, the moment is broken and his manager appears by his side.

"Looking for this?"- Charlie reaches his zippo to Hyunjin.

"Sure."- Hyunjin's voice is almost inaudible.

"Those'll kill you, you know."- Charlie says, a sympathetic smile on his face.

Hyunjin lights up the cigarette, the quiet crackling sound loud in the space between them as he inhales, his lungs filling with the poison, and his brain filling with fake relief.

"You smoke more than me."- the smoke puffs out like a cloud as Hyunjin talks, eyeing the zippo in his hand, an airplane engraved into it.

"You look ugly when you smoke."- Charlie teases and Hyunjin lets out a chuckle as his manager takes out a cig.

He reaches his hand towards Hyunjin's and he rests the old zippo in his open palm, the thought of teasing his manager only shortly passing through his mind.

Charlie has always had an unhealthy obsession with airplanes and collecting old things, so Hyunjin knew that if he even tried to joke with the lighter, his manager would freak out.

"Why so gloomy? This is the biggest show you've ever hosted. Specifically in your own gallery."- Charlie lets the smoke fizz out as Hyunjin stares off into the distance, the quiet breeze swirling the smoke around, drawing patterns in the dark that surrounds them.

"It is, isn't it?"- Hyunjin nods, watching the ashes flicker around as he taps his cigarette, some of it ending on his perfect suit, staining the expensive material.

"Yeah, we made a lot of money. There are so many interested buyers too, so we're bound to make even more."- Charlie smirks before taking a drag.

Money. It all comes back to the stupid paper that holds more significance than anything else in this world. It's the ruler of everything and everyone, and the more you have it, the more you want.

You become insatiable, one more expensive suit, one more pair of leather shoes, a new couch because why not, a new car that's not even on the market yet because you get exclusive everything.

Complete emptiness. That's all that it is, a void that keeps growing with more stuff you get.

Nothing you buy will ever be enough to fill up the ever growing black hole, everything just gets sucked into it and you're left feeling like you have nothing at all.

That's all Charlie ever talks about, except airplaines. It's all Hyunjin has come to know.

He drowns in so many rare and expensive things, but still what he wants to grasp onto isn't tangible to him.

"Sounds perfect."- Hyunjin's voice comes out flat.

"It is perfect! So, lighten up! We made so. much. cash."- Charlie emphasizes. "We need to celebrate."- he adds, smirking as he sticks his hand into the pocket of his jacket and brings out a little baggy of white powder, waving it in front of Hyunjin's face.

"I'll pass."- he says shortly and Charlie scoffs incredulously.

"What is with the sour attitude, my friend?"- he runs his hand through his curly hair. "You're being ungrateful. There are people who have so much influence here tonight and they're gonna want to meet the star of the show, the one and only Hwang Hyunjin. So you better get your fucking shit together."- Charlie flicks his cigarette as his voice gets deeper and the look in his eyes becomes menacing, before he leaves Hyunjin standing on the balcony.

The storm moves closer, Hyunjin looks down, a flicker of something lights up deep inside him, he stares down as his heart races, he wants to scream and fly. Intrusive thoughts fill his head up and he turns on his heel abruptly, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking back into the gallery.

It's already 4 am when Hyunjin stumbles into his apartment, some nameless girl giggling behind him. She probably thinks she knows everything about Hyunjin, which academy he went to, what he loved to paint the most, what was his biggest inspiration, when he had his first show.

This was the night of her life.

To Hyunjin, she was just another instrument to play with, something to pass the time and fill the empty space of his king sized bed, at least for one night.

To feel something. He wishes he could feel something.

She will never forget this but he already forgot her name.

Another baggy is opened, white powder spread on the glass table, Hyunjin's credit card used to make four perfect little lines, two for each of them.

The girl giggles and leans over, snorting two lines in as she moans in delight, her eyes rolling back.

Hyunjin mirrors her actions, scrunching up his nose, despise written on his face at the burning feeling in his nostrils and the dull ache behind his eyes.

How did he get to this?

He doesn't care right now, thoughts erased in his high mind as the girl starts touching on him, nimble fingers coming up to untie his tie.

He doesn't resist, lets her undress him as she kisses his neck, his hands are splayed on her tiny waist, she must be a model.

She's probably beautiful but even that doesn't mean anything to Hyunjin, not when he looks at her, kisses her or lays her under him.

He doesn't see her, he looks through her, chasing his high as quickly as he can, his fingers working on her sensitive bundle of nerves just so she doesn't talk shit later that he didn't know how to please her.

With a loud moan of his name that makes his stomach recoil, she cums around him and he spills into the condom, his hand gripping at the sheet next to her head.

Here comes the worst part. She'll want to cuddle. She'll stay the night. She'll probably yell and slap him in the morning when he tells her to get lost.

He'll say something douchy like 'you should feel honored I fucked you' just to get her off his case.

And he won't feel a thing.

"What the hell do you mean, you're leaving?!"- Charlie yells desperately, as Hyunjin sits, tapping his foot against the carpeted floor of his manager's office.

Charlie stands up angrily, the leather chair he was sitting in, creaking and spinning a little.

"I'm leaving, Charlie. I need to leave. I need a break. I can't do this anymore. I don't even know who I am and why I'm doing this anymore. I don't know what to paint anymore and I don't even fucking care right now. I despise painting and art! I fucking despise all of this!"- Hyunjin's suppressed anger and despair starts bubbling up as he stands up.

"Save your sob story, Hyunjin. This isn't just about you. Other people depend on how much you sell and how much your produce. You can't just up and leave everything when you feel like it. People will-"

"I don't fucking care about people! And I'm making it about me. It's about me, for once. If you want me to be fruitful and bring you money so badly, you need to let me take a fucking break."- Hyunjin seethes.

Charlie pinches the bridge of his nose.

"How long?"

"However long I need."

"Fine. Whatever, Hyunjin. I will keep selling the pieces from the last show. They will sell out quickly, just a reminder. You'll need to do something new by then."

"Fine."

Hyunjin leaves the office, his heart beating fast inside his chest as he speeds off faster and faster, away from the gray buildings, away from the tainted hearts, away from the empty fucking void, threatening to suck in his entire existence.

Returning to his cold apartment, Hyunjin packs a suitcase, leaves a note for the cleaning lady, and throws one last look around his modern apartment, his eyes stop on the looming city skyscrapers outside.

No colors could ever illuminate the deep-seated depression of the big city.

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @laughatdanger @lixies-favorite-cookie @linavc @quokkacidal @thisaintredwine @m00gyu @yaorzu-blog @skzfelixlove @tajannah-price1 @puccaaak @aft2rsexs @xxkissesforchanniexx @aprilmaejune77 @lilmeowneow @stayjinnie @astrobebba @danihwang882 @nchhuhi @1810cl

[flowercrowngods]

felt like letting mike and steve work through some shit again

cw: descriptions and imagery of them being lost and self-sacrificing, left alone with trauma they have no means to work through, could read as suicidal tendencies or intrusive thoughts

🤍 also on ao3

“What do you want?” Mike asks when Steve sits down beside him, gravel crunching, their feet dangling over the dark and endless abyss that is the quarry at night.

Steve doesn’t answer right away, doesn’t really know what to say now that he’s here, now that he found him. He looks so small, now more than ever, and it reminds Steve so painfully that he’s still just a child. He was always just a child, and children shouldn’t—

It feels like they got their rights at a childhood revoked years ago, and then they were just… supposed to be okay with it. It was expected, it was implied when nobody came to talk to them after.

When all they got was one NDA after another. When none of the professionally trained adults took one look at the children that they were, and asked, Are you okay? What do you need to be okay? I will talk to you once a week and make sure you learn how to be okay again.

Steve feels like a big brother to most of the kids now, sure, but he’s not their shrink, and he sucks when it comes to actually talking about shit. He can be there to drive them anywhere, can provide an evening of distractions and as much of a sanctuary as a house as haunted as his can be.

With everything else, though, he’s helplessly lost. So he says nothing, weighs his words to make sure they come out right — especially for Mike, who’s always just waiting for him to say something wrong and throw it back in his face with the sunny disposition of a feral, rabid cat.

“Hey,” Mike says then, irritated again; but his voice is hoarse, too. Tired. No heat behind it after that stupid fight with Dustin and Lucas earlier tonight that made him snap and leave Steve’s house in a frenzy. “I said, What do you want?”

Steve shrugs, looking ahead into the darkness that feels endless and alluring and deeply terrifying.

I miss my friend! My best friend, Mike!

“Making sure you’re okay.”

You’ve changed, you know that? You’re not the guy who would jump off a cliff for me anymore, I don’t think I even know you anymore!

Dustin’s voice echoes in Steve’s mind as it undoubtedly does in Mike’s, too, and he can only imagine how much that hurts, especially if he’s shivering like that even though the night is warm for early September.

“I’m okay,” Mike says, sounding endlessly annoyed about the fact. Steve almost huffs out a humourless laugh. Yeah, right.

“Sure you are,” Steve says, keeping his tone carefully neutral.

He shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over Mike’s shoulders without a comment, half-expecting him to just throw it into the darkness below. But Mike doesn’t move, is eerily still beside him, pretending not to notice that Steve’s watching him.

“But you know it’s, like,” he starts again and trails off, looking for the right words because this is unfamiliar terrain and the ground beneath his feet is quite literally nonexistent. “It’s fine if you’re not, right? It’s actually really fucking normal to be more than a little fucked up after everything, all that crazy shit. Or just… in general.”

You were twelve, he wants to say. You were twelve and you jumped off from here. You were twelve and you were going to die. And not because of those monsters, not yet. Just because… you were twelve.

Mike doesn’t say anything, but the gravel crunches once more as he reaches for a handful of stones to throw them into the darkness one by one, the void beneath them so enormous that they don’t even hear the noise of impact.

You jumped.

The longer Mike remains silent, the more Steve wants to scream, wants to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, wants to make him see and understand that Steve knows about the scars a decision like that leaves, especially when you live to deal with the consequences.

He gets seizures to deal with the consequences. His ear is fucky, his eye is twitchy, his head is aching constantly, he gets migraines that knock him out for a day or two, all because he wanted to protect his friends. All because he did protect his friends. It worked. They’re safe.

But they’re also unaware of… of everything. Of the horrible stillness as clarity dawns and all signs point to the one way that always seems to work. The one easy way out, and still the hardest of them all when the plan goes wrong and he makes it out alive. When It’s gotta be me is the only thing to say, but later turns into an angry It never should have been me because the world looks different when it’s smeared with your blood.

And it’s always the lost boys who make decisions like that. Steve wonders, some nights in cold sweat, what happens if he makes these decisions without immediate danger. What happens if he just… decides to jump. Decides to run. To give the world more of his blood. Without saving anyone.

It’s not like he wants to — but he’s terrified that it’s just who he is. Who he’s turned into, terrified that his friends will forever expect him to.

And he’s even more terrified knowing that Mike jumped before he learned about monsters. Before he learned about fighting and surviving.

You were a kid, he wants to say again, but his throat is closing up on him.

“I don’t think that’s okay actually,” Mike says after a while, tearing Steve away from his fears. They’re still both looking ahead rather than at each other, but it’s fine. They’re still here. “Like, people say it is, but it feels so empty when they do, you know? Like, sure, yeah, I’m not fucking okay, but what the hell do we do about that now? Oh, right, I know! Let’s throw it in my face that I’m not good enough for you anymore now that there’s no monsters to kill anymore. Now that I’m just Mike, who’s not even enough to be that anymore, sure. Right. Yeah. Let’s pretend it’s all fine, Steve, let’s pretend it’s okay to hurt all the fucking time!”

Mike is shaking now, violent tremors running through his body, and Steve’s first instinct is to reach out and pull him close, to keep him from that edge and take him to his car; turn on the heating and talk there. But Mike seems to need the darkness, seems to need to be faced with endless depth to give voice to his thoughts.

“What Dustin said was messed up. He shouldn’t have said that.”

Mike shrugs, throwing more pebbles into the darkness, though his motions have lost their vigour. “He’s right, though.”

Steve sighs, though not unkindly. “No, he’s not. Hey, listen to me.” He waits until Mike turns to meet his eyes, and he leans forward. “It’s not okay. It’s not right what he said. You don’t deserve to have that shit thrown in your face just because Dustin is a tactless little douche bag.”

Taking a bullet for someone is not the baseline for friendship, he wants to say, and it occurs to him once again how fucked up their perception and idea of friendship must be, now that they’ve all bonded over the most horrific shit and actual grief they never learned how to work through.

It’s not even Dustin’s fault, not really. They’re all just collateral damage to something Bigger, and all they have is each other, leaving them in a vicious cycle that is so, so fucked up.

“Why’d you jump?” he asks eventually, quiet in case the darkness tries to listen in. “Back then, why did you jump?” And do you wish El had let you? Do you sometimes wish that? When your room is quiet and it’s only you living with all those silent, terrible decisions?

Mike shrugs again, but there’s not much fight left in him, Steve can see that, can feel it in the air between them.

“Will was gone,” he says like it explains everything— and it sort of does. Steve has seen the way these boys look at each other when the other’s not looking, he has seen the hurt and the anger and the gentleness stored there, the words unspoken and the fear that, despite interdimensional monsters, kinda goes unmatched.

Because they have each other. They only have each other. And if someone’s suddenly different than what they thought they knew, if someone’s suddenly different, then… Everything might just fall apart.

And Steve wants to grab him again; wants to pull him close and say, I’m the same. We have the same scars. We have the same!

Slowly, carefully, he does lean over now, weaving an arm around Mike’s shoulders and pulling him into his side.

“I get that.”

Mike swallows heavily and exhales shakily. “I don’t think you do.”

“No. I think I really, really do. But it’s okay, Mike. You won’t be alone with this, okay. I’m on your side, you little shit.”

A pause, a beat, a moment’s respite. Then, “Why?”

“Because,” his heart is racing, his mouth trembling around forming the words for the first time, but he knows it’s the right thing to do. Knows it’s important.

Knows it might just save a life.

“Because I fell harder for Eddie Munson than I ever thought possible, and once i found out what was happening, I kind of wanted to jump off a cliff, too. But I didn’t, because I had someone with the same fears as me, and instead of stupid shit we just… Cried together sometimes. Screamed into our pillows. Laughed with and at each other, calling ourselves hopeless, and— I don’t know. It’s really fucking scary, and that doesn’t go away just because you have someone to talk to. But it‘s… better. It’s so much better.”

He huffs, swallowing around the lump in his throat, smiling into the darkness.

“So I’ve got you, okay? Whatever it is, whatever makes you feel like it’s not fucking okay, I’ve got you. You come to me, yeah? Lucas does, Dustin does, even Max does. This is your official, standing invitation and whatever, okay, dickhead?”

Mike shoves at him lightly, still not parting from the rather awkward side-hug they’ve got going on, and Steve is glad for it.

“Okay, okay, geez,” the little shithead says, rolling his eyes which Steve can see even in the dark, and it feels like the edge has moved away from them, like they have solid ground beneath their feet again.

Steve doesn’t say anything more after that, just waiting for Mike to stir to lead him back to the car, load in his bike and take him wherever he feels like spending the night.

But Mike doesn’t move for another long while, and it makes Steve feel like something big has just happened between them. Like they finally have found the common ground that Steve’s been suspecting they had for months now, even years.

Eventually, as they make their way to the car and Mike goes to grab his bike, he speaks up again, but more subdued now.

“Hey, Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“Does… Does Eddie know?”

“About what?” My tendencies to take a leap off the edge?

“You. Being…”

“Oh!” A smile as he unlocks his car and opens the back door to squeeze Mike’s old bike in there with minimal smears of dirt. “I’d hope so, we’ve been dating for months.”

“You’re dating?! You? Eddie’s dating you?”

“Yeah, listen, do you want me to just leave you here or would you rather be thrown out in the middle of nowhere?”

Mike grumbles something unintelligible as he climbs into the front seat, waiting for Steve to start the engine before he speaks up again.

“It’s just, you’re so… How did you even do that?”

Steve laughs at that, disbelieving and all, because, “Trust me, I have no idea. Must have been the ol’ Harrington charm and all that.”

Mike rolls his eyes and crosses his arms in front of his chest, sinking lower in the seats to pout. “You’re so lame.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you over how much I have a boyfriend and you don’t.”

If his heart skips a beat because it still feels like a forbidden truth saying the word out loud despite the playful banter, then he’s ignoring that in favour of revving the engine.

“Asshole.”

“Dickhead.”

“Grow up,” Mike says, but Steve can see the smile he’s not even trying to hide, and he mirrors it with his own as he turns on the radio catching the final tunes of Springsteen’s Dancing in the Dark.

They’re not okay, none of them. But the car is warm, the cliff’s edge is behind them, and they’re not listening to the same ten songs anymore.

They’re getting better, step by tiny step.

[apomaro-mellow]

Demon!Eddie 5

At some point, Eddie had cleaned Steve up a little and dressed him in a tank top and shorts. The shirt had a band he’d never heard of but maybe Eddie would tell him about it sometime. Steve had tried to get up on his own only to immediately fall back onto the bed when he felt a sharp pain. That would be last night, coming back to literally bite him in the ass.

“Job hunting’s gonna have to wait”, Eddie grinned.

Eventually they migrated to the couch back in the apartment, Eddie lying on his back and Steve right on top of him. He found it very easy to imagine if the rest of his life was like this. In Eddie’s clothes, in his place, completely surrounded by him.

Steve didn't even know where his clothes from the first night went and he didn't give a flying fuck. Not when he was laying on top of Eddie, getting his lower back rubbed.

"Don't get a big head about it. That was the first dick I ever took."

“I didn’t say anything”, Eddie said.

“I can feel it in your hands”, Steve replied before letting out a soft hum as Eddie’s fingers pressed a spot on his spine. 

The morning was spent so lazily and for the first time in a long time, Steve wasn’t thinking about his future or what he was supposed to do about it. He just relaxed in Eddie’s hold. The only time he worried was when Eddie got up to say he was making breakfast. Steve ignored any soreness to confirm if his suspicions were correct.

And to his horror, Eddie dumped ground coffee into a pot, filled it with water, and then set it all on the stove. 

“You’re an animal”, Steve said.

“I think we established that last night”, Eddie smirked.

“I’m talking about your coffee set up. Where’s your coffee maker? Your filters?”

“What’s wrong with the way I make coffee?”

“Tony the tiger wouldn’t make it that way.”

Eddie’s retort was cut off by a knock on the door and a man’s voice. “Eddie? Edifice Edacity Edger you open this door right now!”

“Shit!”

“Who’s that?”, Steve asked.

“Uhh, that would be my uncle. Stay here for a second and don’t make a sound.” Eddie pushed Steve towards the magic door and before Steve knew it, he was floating in a dark abyss.

He wasn’t in the lavish bedroom from before, nor was he in any of the places Eddie took him yesterday. It was just an endless void with no gravity. Steve was no stranger to hiding in girls’ closets, but this was definitely different.

“His uncle, huh...”, Steve whispered just in case. He wondered what he was like. Probably terrifying if Eddie was trying to hide him. Maybe he was closer to a more traditional demon and would’ve eaten Steve up or sucked our his soul.

Steve felt like he was flying and floating and descending all at the same time and just as he was starting to feel disoriented, he saw the light of the door opening right next to him and Eddie reaching in. Steve took his hand and was pulled back into the apartment.

“Wayne, this is Steve, my current contractor. Steve, this is my Uncle Wayne.”

Uncle Wayne looked more like the kind of guy who spent his free time at hardware stores and bait shops than a demon. But now Steve felt like it would be rude to ask.

“Hi there, sir. Nice to meet you.”

Wayne’s hands were on his hips as he looked Steve up and down. “Hmph. He’s easy on the eyes, I’ll give ‘im that. But you should know better than to be swayed by a nice face.”

“I’m not being swayed”, Eddie said. “It’s just taking some time to fulfill his request.”

Wayne gave him a disappointed look. Steve knew they were talking about him but couldn’t see what the exact problem was.

“You know how this story ends, son.”

Eddie crossed his arms. “No actually, I don’t. Why don’t you enlighten us, oh wise storyteller.”

“Eddie, don’t be rude to your uncle”, Steve chastised. 

Wayne held up a hand. “He’s a brat, but he ain’t misbehavin’. But my official designation is ‘storykeeper’.”

“A what?”

Wayne waved a hand and glowing tomes materialized all around them. “Every single person that has ever existed, has a story to tell. Demons too. When a life ends, everything gets compiled and their story comes into my hands.”

“So...you know everything that’s ever going to happen?”, Steve asked in awe.

“I’m not omniscient. I only know what happens when the story’s over. But after doing this for as long as I have, you start to notice patterns.”

“And what’s my pattern?”, Eddie raised a brow.

“How does bullheaded young buck gets too caught up in one deal sound? Does that sound like a fit?”

“I’m not-” Eddie rolled his eyes but made the mistake of looking at Steve while doing so and had to quickly avert them.

“I don’t understand how any of this works, but is Eddie doing anything wrong? We have a deal and he’s seeing it through”, Steve said in his defense.

“Most demons ain’t so thorough”, Wayne answered.

“You and I both know most demons ain’t honest either”, Eddie said.

“Eddie, get the deal done. And move on.”

Eddie didn’t respond but Wayne wasn’t waiting for one, already on his way out the door. Steve waited for the door to close to speak again.

“Am I....are you breaking any rules because of me?”

“Rule breaking is a part of my creed, baby. But technically, no. Wayne’s right, most demons would’ve set you up in a new place with a new name and considered their job done. But I pride myself on my customer service.”

Steve smiled. “Right. You serve all your customers the same way?”

Eddie saw the way Steve was looking at him and faltered. “N-no. No, I don’t. But you’re special.”

It certainly made Steve feel special to hear it straight from Eddie. He got the deeper meaning of Wayne’s warning. They were both supposed to be very short chapters in each other’s lives. Ships passing in the night or whatever. Steve knew, once he had figured out what he wanted, Eddie would leave and he’d never hear from him again.

“I think I’m all rested up now. Let’s keep looking.”

“You sure?”, Eddie asked.

“Yeah. After we get some decent coffee.”

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

Maybe it was because of his uncle’s words, but Eddie kept his distance for the next few jobs. Steve tried not to mind too much. He was going to have to do whatever he chose without Eddie anyway. He spent the rest of the morning into the early afternoon in a summer camp, working as a sports counselor. 

He had plenty of fun teaching some boys the basics of basketball and running them through drills and even getting through a mini game that they all seemed to enjoy. After a couple periods though, he had a free moment and explored the camp. He ended up being wrangled by a group of boys who needed some muscle for a satellite project.

“I didn’t even know we did this kind of thing at this camp”, he admitted, while lugging around machinery he couldn’t even begin to name.

“Yeah, no duh. You sports counselors barely leave Jock Row”, one kid snarked.

“You should come by the Arts and Sciences building some time”, another said. “We’re always doing something cool.”

“Even if it’s not totally legal!”, the one who had grabbed Steve beamed.

“Uh, what’re you guys’ names again?”

“I’m Dustin, the nice one’s Will, and those two are Lucas and Mike.”

“How does Will get ‘nice one’?”, Lucas asked.

“You know Will’s the reason your cabin didn’t get Cinnamon Toast night, right?”, Mike said.

Dustin gave such a gasp, Steve was worried he’d swallowed a lung.

“Our cabin had to do it with biscuits! How could you?”

“They made it a competition and that’s the one kind I can win”, Will shrugged.

They made it to their destination and Steve followed their disjointed directions but eventually the satellite was built and they were talking to the girls camp across the lake. It was completely juvenile and fun and Steve couldn’t remember the last time he’d done something like this. 

The lunch bugle rang and Steve was approached by a black and red frog while the campers went off to eat.

“And what have you been up to? Frog stuff?”

Eddie croaked, then hopped a couple times in place. Steve crossed his arms.

“I’m not picking you up like this. You’re all, slimy. And you look poisonous.”

Frog-Eddie croaked and hopped onto his shoe, still urging at him but Steve was a rock. Eddie transformed back into himself, wearing the camp t-shirt and red shorts that was the counselor uniform.

“You weren’t so picky about my fluids last night”, Eddie smirked, while wrapping his arms around Steve.

“Yeah there’s a difference.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, beautiful~ Lunch and then on to the next?”

“Let’s.”

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

Eddie had zero idea why Steve wanted to work in an office. But hey, who was he to judge? At least he wasn’t trying to be a cop anymore. 

Steve really just wanted to experience office culture for himself. It was the sort of thing his father had been setting him up for. Before the ritual sacrifice of course. He was put on mailroom duty and that was where he met his worst enemy - Robin Buckley.

She sneered and scoffed at him most of the time. And when she deigned to use words, her comments were always biting. Delivering mail wasn’t too bad, except the fact that most of the employees barely looked him in the face while delivering. He came to the break room and Robin was already there. He tried to ignore her while getting a yogurt from the fridge.

He leaned against it when another guy came in. Steve was pretty sure his name was Kenneth.

“Hey, it’s the mailroom crew!”, he smarmed while refilling his mug with coffee. “You know Robin you should, maybe not scowl so much the boys here appreciate a nice smile.”

Kenneth walked out before he could see Robin’s megawatt dirty look. She glanced at Steve and saw he had the same look as her.

“What an asshole”, Steve said.

“That’s putting it lightly. There’s so much as, there’s no hole left”, Robin snarked.

Steve slid over closer to her so they could continue to talk in whispers. The people here were jerks but he might choose to work with them one day.

“At least he’s better than Nick.”

Robin wretched with her tongue out. “You know he slept with Norma at the Christmas party?”

Steve raised a brow. “Nick? With the ring on his finger and the happy family picture in his cubicle?”

“Yeah.”

“Scumbag.”

They spent more than was probably allowed on their break, trading gossip. Steve only got distracted when he saw a very attractive janitor roll by with his mop and bucket. Without a word, he walked off and followed him right into the closet.

“You’ve been wandering around more”, Steve said as the door closed.

“Just tryina give you space baby. Wouldn’t wanna influence your decision”, Eddie grinned, taking the cap off his head.

“And what if my decision was to blow off work and have some fun with the cleaning guy in the broom closet?”

“Sounds like the opposite of climbing the corporate ladder”, Eddie grinned while unzipping his jumpsuit.

“The opposite of climbing is what again?”, Steve said as he sank down to his knees.

Part 7

Tag Team

@swimmingbirdrunningrock @flustratedcas @estrellami-1 @weirdandabsurd42 @lololol-1234 @chaoticvictorianspirit @giopandaonice @marklee-blackmore @blackpanzy @kacatshi @stevesbipanic @goodolefashionedloverboi @panicatthediaz @gregre369 @littlewildflowerkitten @starryeyedpoet17 @envyadams-vs-me @abbiecadabi-blog @genderless-spoon  @stxrcrossed186 @l0st-strawberry @willowsmelody @bornonthesavage @mxmakessense @roaringgoodshow @potato-of-the-lord @actualwakingnightmare @meccaminayah @irregular-child  @cherr1ehead @anaibis @finalmoondragon @sani-86 @bestwifehaver @tinyplanet95 @mc-i-r @abstractnaturaldisaster @livgil273 @crowley--aziraphale @formacoon @slv-333 @just-a-tiny-void @beckkthewreck @awkwardgravity1 @plasticcrotches

[lolita-lollipop]

Hey there, First off I wanted to say I love your work! Second my request is a platonic yandere TodoDeku taking care of a sick reader who cant hold down food or eat anything but the reader just cant seem to get better no matter what medication they use? I could use some comfort for that because I'm currently dealing with that haha.

YANDERE PRO HERO IZUKU X SICK READER X YANDERE PRO HERO TODOROKI

TW VOMIT AND IV

Izukus keys jingled as he unlocked the front door to the shared home between him and his husband, and you. The door was heavily secured in case you ever tried to run, not that you would, or could. The house was quiet, usually there was the lingering sound of the tv left on, or the kittens mewing. But no. Just the sound of still air remaining still.

“I’m home! Y/n? Todo?” He called out, usually one of the two came to greet him at the door, usually todoroki, but occasionally you when you needed something. Todoroki got home about an hour or so earlier than izuku , so usually dinner was already either prepared or ordered, and you were ready for bed. He was used to the sound of you talking with your papa when he got home, used to the sound of the toys he’d gotton you rattling. But recently it’s been different, he couldn’t remember when it started, when you got like this. All he really knew is it happened fast and abrupt, all of a sudden you were always exhausted, it even took a lot of coaxing to get you out of bed in the mornings, you could barely stomach an apple, and you pretty much avoided eating in general in fear of vomiting. You were sick. And it wasn’t getting better.

They’d placed monitors all over the house, security cameras that were connected to a small device similar to a baby monitor, it was just a safety precaution, or it was supposed to be. They’d never noticed how soundless you were, how you barely moved, probably in attempts to relieve the aching in your bones. It worried both of them to no end at how your body was eating itself from the inside out in place for food.

What was even worse was that they didn’t know what to do about it. They couldn’t get another doctor because you might act out and try to free yourself, but neither of them had enough medical experience to help you. Really help you.

Nowadays todoroki didn’t have time to cook anything for dinner when he first got home, he was too worried about the fact that you haven’t moved from the position he left you in this morning, about the fact that the lunch and snacks the two husbands had left you for the day went mainly untouched. And how the Meds that you were supposed to be taking just made you feel sick instead of any better. When he came home today he could feel the tension in the air, he the world around felt void, how the rooms life had just been sucked out.

They don’t know when this depressive episode of yours started, at least they thought it was a depressive episode. At first they believed it was you rebelling against them, going on somewhat of a hunger strike to try and get them to let you go. So naturally they punished you, took away the cats and the tv and the books. But that did very little in stopping you, at some point the way you stared off into space forced them into realizing something was very wrong.

…

Izuku pulled off his coat and shoes at the door, putting his keys up on the highest shelve that he knew you couldn’t reach. His other hand clutched at a bag of some of your favorite takeout food, or what used to be your favorite at least. He just needed you to eat something, hopefully this might help. He was lost in the endless tombs of his brain, thought being the only thing consuming him. Then he heard it, heard you. And he dropped the bag, dropped his coat from his hands, and ran to your room.

Soft sobs could be what’d through the home monitors, his phone blinked with a red light, indicating that you were actually moving, making noise. When he opened the door, his heart almost broke. You were sitting in a corner, rolled into a fetal position, hiccuping and sniffling, you had your hand pressed to your mouth in attempts to quiet yourself, you were far too consumed by your own feelings to notice him. There was a small plastic container on the table with a few mango slices left in it, and a small puddle of… stomach liquid on the other side of the room. It only took him a few seconds to connect the dots. And he was immediately on you.

“Oh my baby- it’s okay it’s okay don’t cry, daddy’s here now. I’m so sorry you got sick- I know it feels bad. Can you tell me what happened sweetheart?” He cooed , using his sleeve to wipe the corner of your mouth, and picking you up with his strong arms. As he held you tight and close in his comforting embrace, you didn’t fight, usually you would at least put a little squirming into it, but you were far too weak to even try.

“I just- I was really hungry so I tried to- I tried to- and then after my stomach hurt really bad and I got really sick and I couldn’t make it to the bathroom an- I’m so sorry I got- I got it in the carpet” you spoke through your sobs, clutching close to him, you just had felt so good today, like you were getting better. So against your better judgment , you actually ate most of the mango your dads had left for you, then your body seemed to remember it was sick before your brain did, and before you knew it you were hunched over clutching your stomach, hurling out whatever you’d just eaten.

It was just so humiliating, to not understand what was happening to you. That’s why you’d been crying, Izuku knew how you felt about all of this, that’s why he’s been so lenient when you have sass or snap at him. Because you’re hurting. It’s these moments when he knows it best, he let you wrap your legs around his waist and stick your head between the crook of his shoulder, his hands went up and down on your back soothingly, and he bounced slightly on his feet in order to calm you. You would probably make yourself sick again with all of this crying.

“Oh my poor baby- I’m so so sorry this keeps happening. I promise Me and papa are gonna find a way to make this better” he clutched you tight to him, and although you wished you wanted to fight him, scratch his eyes out and take this moment of softness to run. You didn’t, your body felt as if it was made of lead, and your eyes struggled to stay open, and you just felt so. utterly. sick.

So instead you clutched his shirt, and leaned into him. A husky cough left your lips at the pressure he put on your back, which did nothing but made you cry more. The thought of them making you better scared you, they’d tried everything, who knows what crazy solutions are left.

“I-I don’t wanna see a doctor again. Please don’t make me I- I can’t” you pleased of the man, drawing out any sympathy he might’ve held for you, he did know how much you suffered because of whatever this sickness was. Supposedly it was because of stress, after all getting kidnapped by two random strangers who overpower you and force you into being their child harms you mentally, and in turn, physically.

“Don’t worry baby. Your father will have his brother come instead of one of those scary doctors. I know I know you don’t like him either ,but we need you to be seen okay? If you’re good I’ll let you watch one of those horror movies you like. The rated r ones?” He coaxed, beginning to lay small pats on your back in order to prevent a freak out, you didn’t like doctors, at least not the ones he brought you to. Which was understandable, usually he would offer tot ale you out for ice cream, but as you were currently… not eating, this was the next best option.

You grunted and nudged your head closer to the knook of his shoulder, letting him hold you tight. You were still quite focused on holding your remaining nausea down.

“I’ll take that as a yes then? Hm?”he questioned with a little laugh, trying to lighten your mood. It didn’t.

“…yes”

———

It took a few hours for both todoroki and natsuo to get here, natsuo took a little convincing to treat you. He loves you, don’t get him wrong, you’re his favorite little niece, but now that they had taken you against your will and kept you in a cage. It just felt wrong to help his little brother. Still. He supposed it was worse to have you be kidnapped and fatally ill than to just be kidnapped. So begrudgingly he came.

Shoto had warned him that you would be much less than happy to talk to him, and it might be possible that you would have to be restrained. But in the end he agreed.

You heard your two fathers talking to your uncle outside your room, a gruesome horror movie played on the small tv in front of you, an older one that should’ve made you squirm and cringe at the violence and gore occurring, still, you watched intently, almost with a smile. The door opening snapped you out of your stare. The bed next to you dipped down as somebody sat, no doubt your fathers older brother natsuo.

You didn’t hate the man, in fact before all this the two of you knew eachother quite well. But like everybody else, he chose to standby as your two “fathers” confined you here. So you always held some remorse for him.

You were tied down with silk straps, wrapped tightly, but still comfortably. In a position that had you facing the tv. It honestly wasn’t that bad, as you were comfortable and the ropes were soft. It did make you feel mildly vulnerable around this man, but you’ve known natsuo since you were little, and you trusted him. At least you hoped you could. Then again, trusting people had only gotton you kidnapped and put in one of the worst mental states of your life so…

“Hey sweetheart… so, you’ve been having some trouble eating. Right?” He asked, trying to keep his voice as monotone as possible, he’d known that you would look bad, after all you hadn’t eaten in weeks and you were going through severe depression and dissociation. But… god. You looked dead honestly, devoid of all life but somehow still living. The way you did nothing but nod to his question only further proved his point.

“We’ll, I already know you’ve been quite stressed, I completely understand as this is such an environment change for you. But there are also a few physical illnesses that this could be. I’m just gonna ask a few questions alright? Are you okay with that?” He (obviously) did most of the taking, as almost the entirety of your attention was on the movie playing in front of you. It was obvious he was trying to make you feel like you were in charge here. Like you could tell him to leave and he would.

You knew that wasn’t true though.

He asked a wide variety of questions about how you felt when you ate, was it full, was it empty. He also asked about what you had eaten last before all of this started. You’d answered truthfully, after all you did want to get better so you could stop feeling so weak all the time.

The more he spoke to you, the more his voice became a lullaby. The movie in front of you continued with its display of blood and guts, it combined with the way natsuos voice droned, and just pulled you further and further towards sleep. It was actually quite nice.

The last thing you remembered before drifting of was getting a warm hug from the man, and then some talking outside, even a little crying from whom you presumed was midoria.

Then, nothing.

———

When you woke up, you hadn’t been restrained anymore. And you were sitting in a soft chair, one that you had recognized as the one next to your parents bed. A cat sat in your lap, you stared down at it, still half asleep, it made you happy.

Then, as you came to consciousness, you began to be painstakingly aware of how you were feeling. The nausea was gone, and so was the emptiness, but now… now there was this fuzzy feeling all around your body. And there was such a sharp pain in your arm, it felt like it was stabbing you repeatedly.

Then you saw what it was, and THAT woke you up.

There was a bag rested on a large pole next to you, with some liquid inside of it. The bag was feeding into a pipe which went into your arm. A thin needle was pressed into the knook of your elbow.

No no no no no. They did not put a fucking needle in your arm. They wouldn’t. Who knows what the hell is in that bag? They could be pumping you with fucking drugs all day and you wouldn’t even knows You panicked and tried pulling at it, doing absolutely anything to keep the stupid thing from pumping whatever that was into your blood.

Pulling at the pipe and patch hurt far too much for you to continue, so you just sat and stared at the IV. It made you sick thinking about what they did to you while you were happily sleeping. They fucking stabbed you. With a needle. Your vision began to blur and your hearing went fuzzy as a panic attack pulsed through your senses.

You were able to hear small footsteps, and then somebody grabbed and picked you up.

“No no no- don’t do that baby. It’s there to help you- oh I know you don’t like it. I know baby- We should’ve told you about it. But it’s here to help you sweetheart. No don’t cry- it’s okay” todoroki hushed as you clawed at the small patch on your arm, he held you tight, which actually helped a little bit, as it stopped you from pulling the IV out.

Even though you wanted the stupid little needle out of your arm, the sight of your blood would make you panic further. Todoroki knew this, so he chose to just let you wriggle and squirm in his arms as opposed to making yourself bleed.

Isn’t that funny. You love watching those little films filled with blood and gore, but the second you shed any of your own blood ,you panic. How cute.

He had known that the needle and the bag would make you freak out, but both him and his husband had figured that this was a better option than a feeding tube (that would really freak you out). And although it upset you, it was for your well-being, and you would have to understand that.

Their intentions were innocent too, they didn’t drug you, all they wanted was for you to be healthy. They just want you to be safe and happy and healthy, they just want you to feel okay.

They just wanted to nurse you back into the girl they fell in love with all those years ago.

And you…

You would get used to it if it meant you started feeling better.

You would have to.

—————————————

This is an oooollldddd request that I was struggling with heavily because when I started writing this one I had an eating disorder :P

HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ALL MY LOVELY LITTLE AMERICAN READERS!

Anyway now I’m all better and I was able to figure out an ending sooooo…

Thank you anon for requesting ! And Thank you readers for reading!

Hope you enjoyed! Have a very good day!

[void-of-unparalled-chaos]

Twice now I have tried to make a reblog reply about Walter and twice now Tumblr has eaten it. So let's try it this way @chaos-bringer-13

Allow me to take you back to the ✨QUARANTINE DAYS✨ and tell you the tale of a pumpkin that may or may not have housed a god

So back in good old 2020/21 we are in the thrall of the COVID-19 pandemic. My state in particular had super heavy quarantine restrictions, and as someone with lung issues, my mom and myself were not taking any chances. I haven't left my house in maybe 5 months. Nor have I seen any of my friends outside of video calls. Senior year of High School so far has sucked.

I'm talking to my friend, we'll call her Marie, and I mention off hand "Yeah I'm starting to feel a bit lonely." Now Marie has known me for a solid 8 years at this point. She knows my type of humor and attachment to what we would now and days call "skrungly" objects. She decides "hmm. I can fix this!"

Marie's mom (who was... certainly a human being) for some god forsaken reason decided to buy a white pumpkin and give it to Marie with the idea that she would harvest the seeds from it and plant them in the garden (why she did this instead of just buying pumpkin seeds I will never know). Instead of doing this, Marie takes this pumpkin and draws a realistic face on it that can only be described as similar to the handsome squidward meme. She drives to my house, sets the pumpkin on my doorstep with a note, and then FUCKING BOOKS IT.

I open the door to see this pumpkin with a note that reads "Hello Momther, I am Walter."

(Not the best photo but this is in fact Walter sitting in the dark in my front yard while Marie (not pictured) stands on my driveway holding a single candle and chanting).

Anyway immediately I take him inside completely smitten and unknowing as to what this pumpkin will create.

At this point of quarantine, we have gone back to classes but they are completely online. I decide that the best thing I could possibly do with Walter is set him on a stack of notebooks behind me so that when I turn my camera on he would be there... watching. Notably, one guy who never unmuted himself did so just long enough to ask "Void... what the fuck is that."

Needless to say I got endless entertainment from the reactions, but all good things have to come to an end. Unfortunately, I live in a desert and pumpkins simply don't survive. They typically would rot within a few days where I was living at the time, so my Mom told me to move it outside at least. I decide to put him by the front door. This front door has a little half wall that leads up to it. I put him on top of it facing the walkway so whenever a package is delivered the mailman would be faced with Walter and have to make eye contact before leaving the mail. I figure I'll probably get a couple more days out of him before he rots.

This is where it starts to get weird

Another week passes. Two. Unlike every single pumpkin I've ever had for Halloween, Walter shows no signs of rotting despite being exposed to the elements. The pumpkin is at this point about a month and a half old and still perfectly fine. Marie, our friends, and I all kind of laugh it off as a random one time thing and expect it to rot within another week.

IT. FUCKING. DOESN'T.

4 months into having Walter and he is still as good as new. Around this time the vaccines for covid started rolling out, so my friends and I get to see each other again. They are just as baffled as me about Walter. Of course, us being us, we have been referring to Walter like an actual person this whole time because that's just our humor. We give him little head pats and forehead rubs as we enter or leave my house and say hello/goodbye to him.

Also around this time, my mom and myself are beginning to prep for moving to another state. We have also started doing some in person classes again. I had been cleaning out my room one morning, and just so happened to leave a piece of sea glass in front of Walter as I left for school. I had a strangely good day. Managed to get an A on a test if I remember right. I come home, see the glass in front of the pumpkin, and start thinking. The next day I leave him something else. Another good luck day! I try this again and every single time I leave him an offering something good happens! I tell my friends about it and they start doing it too and experiencing the same results. We decide that he must be some god of luck inhabiting this pumpkin vessel and rewinding time on it to keep it from rotting.

At some point someone gave him an orange and I swear to god the pumpkin started getting orange marks on its forehead. He still wasn't rotting though! We decided that he obviously has been absorbing the power from the offerings.

Around this time I realise the I have somehow created a partially serious cult and decide I might as well lean into it. I actually enlisted the help of the neighbor kids to take this photo.

Time passes. Walter is about 10 months old now and still going strong. We have graduated highschool and I'm going to be moving in a week. I can't take Walter with me, so Marie decides she will take him. But first, she is going to help us move. It's a 6 hour drive. We put Walter in the passenger seat window so that all the cars passing us can see him.

After she helps us, Marie and Walter continue on to yet another state where Marie will be attending university. Walter is almost if not a year old when he finally starts to rot. Marie, in her dorm room mind you, makes a plaster cast of his head and redraws his face on it. To this day Walter hangs in his new, more durable vessel, guarding her spice cabinet.

By the end of Walter's reign, he had reached his 1st birthday, scared who knows how many mailmen, met 3 of my teachers in person, visited 3 USA states, and briefly had an instagram account.

[wandafiction]

First Meeting - Just Us Chapter 40

Warnings: Mentions of death, Blood, Abuse, PTSD, Little bit of sexual tension and suggestive theme.

Words Count: 3432

Series List | Chapter 39 | Chapter 41

================================

"Y/n what does she mean murdered? You said she died, nothing about being murdered." I think I hear restraint in Wanda's voice, she's mad at me again. I'm sure of it.

"I mean I guess you could call it murder. That's what the man is going down for." I shrug nonchalantly.

"Y/n what man?" I jump a little when I hear Natasha's voice forgetting that she is a part of the little huddle on the floor.

"The man and his crazy fucking boss." I explain like it's the simplest thing in the world.

"Y/n you're not making any sense."

"The man that killed my wife and child is going down for murder, his boss is going down for plotting said murder. It's easy enough to understand, is it not? 1 man paid another man to kill my wife and child because of something I did!" My voice raises as I become a little hostile towards the two women and I don't realise what I've said until it's too late.

"You still blame yourself." It's not a question but a statement that leaves Wanda's lips. "This is what was going on between you and Loki, wasn't it? Whatever happened he blamed you for it all. Y/n none of this is your fault, you told me so yourself."

"I know that. Deep down I do, I do, I do. I do. I do. I didn't kill her. I didn't kill her. I didn't kill her. I...I...I….I didn't…..I didn't…..I didn't….kill. I didn't kill her." My voice fills with hatred towards myself because the more I say it the less I believe it. 

I didn't kill her.

No.

Yes.

No, I didn't kill her.

Yes, I got her killed.

My brain keeps going in circles over and over, a constant battle of what I did and didn't do. The pain I did, or didn't cause. How I got my own wife and child killed. How it's all my fault. How none of it is my fault. It's a viscous cycle that won't just end, it's keeps going and going and going and going and going and fucking going. And then when it seems to have quietened down and I have a split second to think about where I am in reality I'm sucked back into the void, the endless void where I see my wife holding my child in the hospital bed with that amazing smile on her face. 

"Baby we did it. Look at our baby girl. My little Stark. My beautiful girl, you have your mama's eyes." 

My wife looks up to me and the Hospital bed is thrown across the void, the scene changing before I can even comprehend that I'm being pulled towards them. Their lifeless bodies, covered in each other's blood. Covered in my blood. Glass and metal shards embedded in their skin, their eyes white with no ray of life visible. Not even a slither. I lean down to close my little girl's eyes, before moving towards my wife. I place my hand on her forehead staring into her lifeless eyes, my two fingers pull down over her eyelids. 

"It's your fault." My body jerks back as my wife's body comes to life, her cold broken hand gripping onto my wrist leaving bright red marks. "It's all your fault." 

Before she can do anything else I see two white lights flickering above me, the darkness of the void momentarily lights up and I see a hint of red….maybe some green too. Then darkness….

I jerk awake, the harsh white lights blinding my eyes as I scramble to sit up struggling for breath. I slam my eyes shut to protect them from the white light, I feel a pair of hands on me but I shove them away mine fly to my chest as I feel the tightness of it. Everything stops when I hear a voice. Her voice.

"Y/n it's just me. It's Wanda." Her voice sounds hoarse. Has she been crying?

I slowly open my eyes allowing them to adjust to the light, as they dart around the room to try and identify where I am because I am most definitely not in Tony's office anymore. I hear a rapid beeping and turn my head to look at a machine, a heart monitor, I'm in a hospital. How the fuck did I get here? What the fuck is going on? The last thing I remember is, is my wife staring at me with those lifeless eyes. I look up to see Wanda's worried eyes on mine, she hasn't moved since I opened mine, she hasn't attempted to touch me, her hands on the railing of the hospital bed. It must have been her hands I pushed away. I slap my lips together swallowing saliva to try and wet my throat and lips.

"Can I touch you Y/n?" My throat is too dry and sore to reply so I just nod my head rapidly.

Wanda stands from the hospital chair, slowly placing her left hand on my right hand. She doesn't hold it, or try and squeeze it, she just rests her palm on the back of my hand. The instant I felt the skin on skin contact I let out a shaky breath, my bottom lip quivering as my eyes filled with tears as they looked at Wanda's tear stained cheeks, her red and puffy eyes. But she was smiling, it wasn't a fake 'try to make you feel better' smile. This smile was real. It was genuine. It gave me the strength to turn my hand in hers, our palms coming into contact with one another as I slide my fingers in the gaps between hers and squeeze it. Holding on with all I am. 

Wanda let's out an small laugh, as she bites her lip to contain the huge smile trying to grow on her face. Her eyes darting down to look at our hands, they glisten a little at the sight before they look back up into mine. 

"Hi baby." Her voice is soothing, I could fall asleep listening to her talk, the hoarseness is still there but I'm way too distracted by her smile to notice.

"Hi…" The words get stuck in my throat as I cough at how dry it is.

Before I can even ask, Wanda leans over to the table next to my bed, her free hand picking up the cup as she holds the straw between two fingers and places it between my lips. I take a few big sips, and it hurts more as it goes down my throat then when it was just dry. Because that makes sense. After I have finished off the cup, Wanda pulls the straw from between my lips placing the cup back down on the table. Her other hand remained in mine the whole time.

"Hi princess." She smiles widely as a few tears fall down her cheeks.

"Hey my sweet girl. I love you so much." Wanda's free hand comes up to cup my cheek, instantly I tilt my head leaning into the touch. 

"Did I black out?" 

"You did baby, yeah. You kept repeating yourself and me and Natasha couldn't even get you to look at us or even hear us. So Natasha went to get Stark, who phoned your sister who then told us to phone your therapist. And while all that was happening you collapsed in my arms and I was on the phone to 911." 

"Sounds very dramatic even for me." Wanda laughs and I beam up at her when I hear it. 

"Even though that's funny, it's not the time for jokes." Her eyebrows almost touch as they scrunch with worry, her eyes filling with new tears. "You scared me baby. I didn't know what to do, nothing I was doing was working." 

"Hey, hey." I squeeze her hand, bringing my other one up to hold hers against my cheek more. "There was nothing you could have done." 

"There has to be something I could have done. Baby you looked so helpless and I felt awful not being able to help you." 

"Princess come here for me." I shuffle my body to the left side of the bed patting the small space I created.

Wanda raises her eyebrows at me but easily follows my directions, carefully placing her body next to mine. Her body is positioned higher than normal as her head rests at the top of my arm looking down at my chest as her right hand draws random shapes. Her left one is still holding mine as our arms connect with each other. Wanda looks up at me through her eyelashes, I am just looking at her taking in the sight of the red-headed goddess next me. The very same goddess who is looking after me, making sure I'm okay, making sure she knows how to help in the future.

"Wanda you wouldn't have been able to help me because I had a severe PTSD episode." Her eyes never leave my face, she frowns slightly at my words but let's me continue. "I haven't had one in maybe 10 months, then before that it was probably 2 months. Both those times I was with steph. Both of those times she thought I was playing the crazy card. The first time it happened she tried to get me to snap out of it by tapping my cheeks, when that didn't work it turned to a big ole slap. I mean that worked. But it meant that the second time my brain completely shut down to the outside world until I passed out. So that's what happened today, it's not because of anything you did or didn't do, it's because of…."

"Her." Wanda's voice is harsh, her tone sharp not mentioning her name. 

"I've been working on it." 

"With your therapist?" Her voice is unassuming as her whole mood does a whole 180.

"Yeah. I've been going ever since the accident." 

"And then she added to the trauma?"

"Yup." I pop the p as I smile down at Wanda.

"Sorry for interrupting with all the questions." I feel her hand slide down my chest towards my abdomen where she starts drawing a random pattern. 

"What do you want to know?" Wanda moves her head so her chin is resting on my arm, her eyes searching mine as she thinks quietly to herself. 

"Tell me about Sarah." Her voice filled with excitement as her nose scrunches. 

"What about Sarah do you wish to know?"

"Hmm. How did you two meet?" Wanda lifts her body up slightly, pushing herself down the bed a little, moving her head to hover over my chest looking at me for permission.

 I nod my head in answer to her silent question, her head lowers to my chest, her chin resting gently on my sternum as she looks up at me. Her whole body is on mine as her legs wrap themselves with mine, her torso on my lower abdomen and waist. I feel her let out a content sigh as her hand that's on my abdomen moves back up to my chest. Our hands, that are still tightly gripped together, are resting on the pillow so it is comfortable enough for both of us. 

"How did me and Sarah meet?" I feel her nod against my chest.

"Please baby. I want to listen to the whole story."

"Okay princess." Wanda moves her right arm to bend underneath her head as she rests her cheek on her forearm, her fingers still lightly drawing shapes and patterns.

2014

I'm walking through the halls of NYU, yes I am at the University at the age of 14 -soon to be 15- I'm just that smart. I finished highschool this year and am looking around the science study areas. Luckily, I'm quite tall and with the help of a little makeup I look like I fit right in. I'm being shown around by some student council member or something, they were very proud of their title...don't tell them but I definitely ended up rolling my eyes at it.

They push open door 10a, the class of students all turn to look at me before looking back to the lecturer. My eyes search the room as everyone sits in their lab coats preparing for the experiment on the board. It is an acid and base experiment, one I could do with my eyes closed but the lecturer is explaining it in baby talk to them. 

"Can anyone tell me how the hydrochloric acid and sodium hydroxide will react together?" The lecturer looks at the class.

"Will it lead to a neutral solution?" The lecturer raises an eyebrow at the boy who asked the question.

"Mr Rumlow I said can anyone tell me not can anyone ask a question." I smirk as the boy slouched down in his chair.

"Come on, anyone. This is basic science." The lecturer places his fingers on the bridge of his nose. "Imbeciles."

"The result will lead to a rise in temperature and the formation of salt also known as sodium chloride. Water is also a product of the reaction." I state matter-of-factly. 

"See that's what I'm asking for class. What's your name miss?"

"Y/n. Y/n Danvers."

Now you have to remember at this point, even though I was living with the Barton family I had not yet been adopted so I still had my maiden name.

"Well Miss Danvers." I grimace at the use of the name the lecturer seems to realise. "Sorry Miss Y/n. I'm Professor Stark or as everyone calls me Howard. So Miss Y/n could you explain to the class what type of reaction this is?"

"Sure! It's a neutralisation reaction where sodium hydroxide is the base. The Na+ being the cation. The hydrochloric acid is obviously the acid with the Cl- being the anion which means the sodium and chlorine will bond together while the hydrogen and oxygen bond together. Henceforth you get salt and water."

"Thank you Miss Y/n. You're one of the two young students, correct?"

"Yes sir. I don't know where the other person is thou…" I get interrupted by someone else entering the room.

"Hi sorry I am late, my car broke down." The young girl starts rambling.

"I don't want excuses Miss Potts." Howard is stern and it makes Miss Potts scowl.

"Sorry Sir. Sarah is fine." 

"Sarah this is Y/n the other young student starting today. Y/n and Sarah you will be lab partners throughout this whole semester. I hope your work is as good as they say it is."

"Of course Sir." Sarah is quick to make her way to the only free desk, leaving a space for me. 

"Is there a reason you are still standing Y/n?" I look back to Howard and nod.

"Yes sorry, I just have to hand you this." I make my way to his desk handing a note over that explains a little about my current situation if I am ever late or falling asleep in class.

 I may be living with the Barton family, but that doesn't mean I have escaped my own. He simply nods and points to the free chair next to Sarah, which I scurry over to bringing out my book and notepad. Sarah on the other hand brings out a brand new laptop and tablet that sync up with one another, a smug look on her face.

"So. How did you get accepted into NYU so early?" Her smugness is really pissing me off already and I have to work with her for the whole semester.

"On scholarship." I reply like it's no big deal.

"Yeah right. Like someone like you could make it into a programme like this." She scoffs next to me.

"What exactly do you mean by that? What sort of person am I?" I keep my voice calm and measured, raising a simple eyebrow her way.

"You know." She flicks her hands towards my notebook. "Poor people." 

"Oh and little Miss daddy buys me everything, definitely isn't here because her grandads the lecturer." She scowls at me, turning her chair that makes a horrible noise against the floor, making everyone laugh, so she can look directly at me, my voice quiet as we argue at the back of the room trying not to draw attention to ourselves.

"What do you mean by that?" She spits her words at me.

"Mr grand daddy dearest, up the front there. You see him. Big nose greying hair. Oh right you know that already because you have known him your whole life. Anyway, how much did grand daddy dearest pay the board to get you to come here. Was it full price or do you get a family and friends discount?" Her eyes dart to look at Howard at the front of the room, then back to me.

"How did you know he was my grandfather?" Her voice softens, afraid the rest of the class might hear.

"It's not that difficult to tell. His son, Tony -also known as your dad- is married to Pepper potts. Your surname is potts. Also you have his eyes."

"Oh shut up and get on with your work." She turns in her chair to start up her laptop."

"You're not the boss of me. I can do whatever the fuck I like." Her head turns on a swivel, giving up on turning her laptop on her undivided attention to me.

"Yeah like what." I smirk and see her eyes drop to look at my lips and my smirk only grows. I lean in closer so my breath tickles her face.

"Telling you how if you're a good girl and get on with the work this semester there may be a fun reward at the end." I hear her breath catch in her throat and I try not to laugh, this is too easy.

"Yeah, well what would the reward be?" She tries to act cool after her little breathing mishap.

"Still trying to think of something, well I can think of something…"

"But?"

"But you will just have to be good and find out won't you." She grumbles to herself but I catch her readjusting in her seat. Ha I win!

Present day

"So wait, you're telling me you knew she would be into that sort of thing and you played her weakness against her?" Wanda's question makes me laugh out loud, covering my mouth so I'm not laughing in her face.

"It was a gamble, that paid off."

"Well you did end up marrying her."

"I did."

"So was it like an enemies to lovers sort of thing?"

"Even though that is an overused storyline sometimes yes we very much didn't get on at first. I continued to fluster her, she continued to fight me against every little thing."

"What changed?" 

"Her grandad was chewing her out for not getting the same grades as me, and I only beat her by a few marks each time. So one time when we had a test I completely flunked it got a 0 out of 100 and when I was the one being chewed out I put him in his place saying 'you can't pick and choose between fighting me and your granddaughter because we both have our different strengths I failed this test to show you that you're pitting us against one another. Your granddaughter got the same marks as last time but because I got 0 I am the one in trouble. We may not get along, me and Sarah not properly but it isn't fair on her to have her role model bare down on her everytime my strength shows through. So until you can learn to keep your anger and god-like complex in check I will keep failing.' What I didn't realise was that Sarah heard the whole thing and that night she came to my dorm crying happy tears and hugged me. And from there on we became more than friends to one another, it took time and patience but we got there."

"Wow. That's quite the beginning for a love story." 

"It was you're right...but I like the way our story started the most." Wanda's eyes shine brightly at my words as she lifts her head to look down at me.

"Really? Ours was nothing compared to that."

"It was everything compared to that."

================================

[tarttsweetshriek]

Get To Know Me

Basic Info

Name: Tartt Sweetshriek

Gender: Female

Race: Goblin

Class: Death Knight

Faction: Horde

Affiliations: Bilgewater Cartel, The Ebon Blade

Eye Color: Lichfire Blue

Hair Color: Purple

Skin Color: Green

Height: 4’

Age: Adult

Server: Wyrmrest Accord (NA)

Birthplace: Kezan

Profession: Engineer

Body Shape: Small, but Athletic

Likeness: Rhea Ripley (Mami)

Voice Reference (Speaking): Melissa Rauch (Harley from “Batman and Harley Quinn”)

Voice Reference (Singing): Lzzie Hale (Halestorm)

Sexual Orientation: Straight

Relationship Status: Single

Piercings: Tongue Stud (Kaja’mite green color), Skull earring and a stud, (L) Studs (Right Ear), Nose Studs (Right Side)

Tattoos: Shadowmoon Clan symbol from the Kosh’Harg (Left Shoulder)

A tattoo on her back of Blight Boar outlined in purple and green- the colors of Inner Beast. She got this at the Tournament of Ages. This tattoo glows.

Languages: Goblin I Orcish I Common

Hobbies

Likes: Blight Boar, ETC, Inner Beast (Rp band), Heavy Metal, Death Metal, Motorcycles, Explosives, Tight outfits, leather corsets, dresses, dark makeup, socializing, “death knight things”, playing guitar, dancing, attending concerts, singing, raves, hanging out, dressing for special occasions, exploring new places, reading, collecting tomes and letters. Enjoys getting roses on occasion. (Mainly a variety of black roses, Sanguine roses from Revendreth and dread roses from Ardenweald).  

Dislikes: Gallywix, Arthas, forces that threaten Azeroth.

Note: Tolerates Paladins to an extent.

Love Language: Physical touch, complements, kisses, hugs.

Other Info

Smoking: Hookah (if there is one available)

Other drugs: None. (She tried a void mushroom and had a bad experience. Never again). 

Drinking: Socially

Fears: Being alone, “accidentally” not sating her Endless Hunger and becoming a murderous maniac. Being rejected.

Kinks

Breast play: She doesn’t mind if others look/ glance at them. Enjoys them being squeezed, massaged, nipples teased, pulled, pinched, sucked and tugged.

Blindfolded: Enjoys being blindfolded on a soft bed.

Is curious about whips, riding crops, and flogs.

(When she’s feeling dominant): She’s discovered a form of spanking using the Abomination Limb ability. (Glowing green spectral hands that flail around and hit the butt).

Traits

Flirty at times, enjoys company. Serious when she has to be.

Despite expressing negative emotions most of the time (as Death Knights should), she tries to be happy when she’s near the people around her. (Plus, I can’t rp an edgelord all the time).

Family Members

Siblings: Bogble: Goblin Rogue (Alive, but they don’t talk much).

Parents: Deceased.

RP Hooks

You may know Tartt Sweetshriek if:

You fought with or allied with the Ebon Blade during the Northrend Campaign against the Lich King.

You are a Third War and/or Fourth War veteran.

You attend Blight Boar concerts at the Darkmoon Faire (Or Caverns of Time during the anniversary event).

You frequent the World’s Faire Carnival or the Tournament of Ages.

You attend the Lordaeron Night Market. (Rp market)

You attend the Wings and Metal concert. (Rp concert).

You have seen her as part of the security in the Gilnean Black Market. (She started that recently).

(Pic was drawn by PoodleArt during the Lordaeron Night Market last year).

Note: If a character has not been to the Shadowlands, black roses will do just fine.

[entityverse-utmv]

Content Warning: Fictional depictions of: Auto-Cannibalism, Disordered Eating/Thinking, Unreality, Body Horror, Self-Mutilation, Gore. Continue with caution.

Let me know if I should tag anything else!

Void's Origin.

For as long as I can remember, I've always been hungry.

My bones ache with it. My magic is tight against my bones as I feel the yawning emptiness swallowing me from the inside, out. I'm starving—the hunger is maddening. I raise my fingers up to my mouth, feeling saliva pool in my mouth before overflowing. In this great emptiness, there is no sound as it drip, drip, drips down my jaw and into the dark infinity.

There is no sound. Nothing to look at. Nothing to smell, taste, or touch. Just me—just as it has always been.

...

I'm not sure how much time has passed in this Great Nothing. What brings me back to awareness is a sensation—new, strange, in this sensationless existence. Pain, my mind whispers. Sharp, stabbing, warm. Like my saliva before, something drips from between my fingers. The flavor of it is strange, the smell...metallic. Blood, my inner voice supplied. I become enamored with all of the input- the pain, the smell, the taste. Three sensations I'd never experienced before.

I relish the experience, as the new, new, new liquid falls into eternity. Shoving more of my hand into my mouth to be consumed, desperate to feel full—first my right, then my left. The pain is all-consuming, but I can't stop myself. No matter how much I devoured, I still felt hungry.

I twisted to consume my legs next, contorting awkwardly to reach them as my body slowly drifted through the Nothing, as if suspended in space. Soon, they were as my arms; but still I felt no fuller.

The pain was now in the stubs where my arms and legs had been. But it was also in my stomach—just as crampingly empty as it had been before.

I screamed. In rage, in agony, in despair. There was no sound—for there no were walls, no friction for my cry to bounce from. But my agony was felt all the same. Would I ever feel fulfilled? Would I ever know anything other than this emptiness?

Suddenly, a flash of blinding light cut through the darkness.

I blink open my eyes, a third liquid that leaked from them rendering my sight blurry. Tears, my thoughts helpfully informed me once again.

The light was intense; blinding, to someone who had never known it before. It was first white, and then there were so many colors—more colors than I could count. First it was everywhere, and then, like something was stealing it—eating it—it all sucked inward, and then imploded.

The first star.

The first thing to appear in this endless Nothing aside from myself.

Suddenly, the Void was no longer the only world. There was something new.

Perhaps it had something in it to eat. Something that would finally fill me.

The blood that poured from my sundered limbs writhed around me, twisting, hardening into a grotesque approximation of new limbs. I don't know how long it took. It could've been mere seconds, or years—but I reached in front of myself, flexing my digits experimentally, before willing myself to fall.

I fell through the air; there was no resistence, no sensation of momentum as I plummeted. My new toes gently touched flat, invisible ground. I wobbled unsteadily, having never used my limbs for their intended purposes before. A shaky step forward, then another. And another. I started walking, then running, dashing towards the new star.

I didn't know what I would find once I got there...but I had the feeling things were finally going to change.

[ammonitetheseaserpent]

*breaks down my own door* I’m BAAAACK-

New chapter time - also Operation: 3 TOTM Wednesdays In A Row is GO! Who’s ready to reach the finish line? I sure am!

Tide of Tied Minds

Chapter 4: If you see us in the daylight

Summary: The Collector is shown something they haven’t experienced in many millennia.

Chapter Word Count: 743

Trigger Warnings: out-of-body experience (you know the drill)

-

Back when he was visiting the Collector in their prison, they’d been nebulous, but had seemed fairly approachable. King had enjoyed their conversations, and a part of him had felt for them, cared about them - and while he still very much did, now there was something a bit different there, too.

It had been there since he’d seen the star child flick the moon aside with a finger, as if he were halfheartedly swatting a bug. It was a sense of wariness.

A sense of “I’d better not make this kid mad in any way.”

After a moment, King blinks his eyes open - at which point his train of thought careens into pure confusion.

A familiar, teal-marbled space makes up his surroundings, one he’d never expected to see again - and yet, here it is.

Wait, but… this place was-

A cry of despair rings though the void, jolting King into awareness with a startled “weh?”

He whirls around, overshooting the source of the noise, then tips his snout back around to see-

A massive, faceless figure, towering over a familiar being in space-speckled pajamas.

The Collector shouting, his confusion and pain felt as a physical force in King’s chest.

As the young Titan watches, there’s a flash of light, punctuated by the Collector’s panicked wail. The figure disappears like smoke, and when everything clears, King is able to see his friend - a shadow curled up in a nebula-like orb. The void seems to darken and distort a little, like someone putting a painting underwater, as if reflecting the Collector’s mood.

King debates what to do. The Collector can be unpredictable, and has the power to make that a dangerous thing - possibly even more so now that they’re in a vulnerable state.

Ultimately, though, he doesn’t hesitate for long before he finds himself ducking his head and floating toward the orb.

-

The Collector grazes their fingers against their prison, leaving bright white marks across its surface inside. It feels good. It’s the only thing they can touch, after all.

They float there, unable to grasp onto anything, a helpless ball of pain and bitterness and empty loneliness and other emotions in a knot that has nowhere to go, so it sucks out everything inside him like an endless black hole. A ball trapped inside another ball, colors inside it shifting lazily, slowly, mocking him, taunting him.

Their whole body feels weighted with his surroundings, all the wrongness in there. This is all wrong. They shouldn’t be here.

A flash of white and gray distracts the Collector from their overwhelming thoughts and feelings.

Floating there, slowly approaching the orb, is King. “Hey, there,” the small Titan says softly. “I, uh- I think I landed in a dream of yours,” he adds, turning his snout around slowly, taking everything in.

A feeling of relief fills the Collector’s chest and sits there with a grip, both at the appearance of his best friend and at the news that this is a dream.

“You… wanna get out of here?” King ventures. “Could- could I bring us to your mindscape?”

The star child winces. They could go there, theoretically, and then at least he wouldn’t have to be tortured with reliving one of his worst memories. Then again, his mindscape undoubtedly housed a bunch of other not-so-fun memories, and they’re not sure they want to see all those - or have King see all those. They trust the small Titan, but don’t know what might come from letting him see right into their mind, and they don’t want to find out. “I… I ‘unno,” the Collector murmurs finally.

King accepts this answer with a patient nod. He taps a claw to his chin, clearly thinking. “I’ve got a better idea - can you feel things through that bubble?”

“…probably? Not sure.”

“All right.”

As the Collector presses curiously up against the bubble, King floats closer with his furry arms outstretched. He presses into the bubble himself, his arms wrapped around it, around the Collector.

Something sweeps away the remaining knots of darkness weighing the child of the stars down. A warm feeling, one that brings peace and comfort. It’s… nice. For the first time in eons, they feel almost totally safe.

“King?” They whisper.

“Hm?” King tilts his snout a bit, not moving otherwise.

“…I’m really glad you found me.”

Their friend considers this, hesitating, then seems to smile under his skull. “Same here.”

[iamlittlelostsoul]

Watching and waiting...

Hello everyone!!

Welcome to part 2 of "A joyous wedding..."!

If you haven't read part 1 link is below

and if you'd like to check more of my stuffs here's my masterlist!

Thank youuu @whatevermywpis for the idea!!! I hope you read this and enjoy itt >o<

Enjoy everyonee!!

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gn!reader x dorm leaders

Overview: How nice, how sweet! Were finally married!....Hey?.... Do smile! It's a happy occasion!...H-hey! Please stop crying....im sorry, I...I love you...

(don't mind me making poems knowing I terribly suck at it :'VV)

< previous (part 1)

Dance and sing whilst joyous music play,

as we are to be wed on such a bright and sunny day.

oh how glad am I my favorite flowers decorate thy special place.

how happy am I that people I love gather unfazed.

As I, the bride mat be long gone

they're celebrating as they mourn.

Amidst it all their spirit watches sorrowfully

As they're lover's sanity degrades woefully.

They miss their warmth, the sound of their voices and the sweetness of their touch, and their loving kisses.

from the day they mourned cried and screamed, to the day they all began to break, they saw it all.

Through a little hand mirror in an endless dark void...they saw everything crouching as they silently prayed to return to their side.

Are they even truly alive or is this the after-life.

If they are living...how is it that their soul is most likely far from their body and all they could do is watch as they see them all suffer.

Does their lover knows that there's a chance they could still be alive?

Hah, How lonesome...it was their wedding yet they couldn't 'fully' attend. Only a shell of what they left behind...

"How long am I supposed to live on here?" They thought out loud, the sound of their voice bouncing all the endless void.

they want to go back in their arms...and live their lives happily...yet here they are stuck in an unknown space...it could be hell or heaven...or it could be both or none

They're alone. Like a genie in a lamp, waiting for a miracle to be set out...but unlike a genie, they had no way out...well so far that's what they know? They don't really understand how they got here...and if they're really living or dead.

To be fair they knew they sorta died(?) one way or another...they're practically considered dead, it's just that at the same they felt very much alive just...sorta detached?

They watch their lovers go down down down into the pits of insanity as they marry and live with their corpses as if it truly alive....it's sickening and very much painful to watch....

-x-

Unconsciously their lovers sorta knew they were still sorta living. But people took this as madness and them going down to the pits of insanity.

Well yes, they are one way or another doing so by now...marrying a corpse, and still trying to go with their daily lives trying to find some way to revive them.

Using all types of spells, brewing all kinds of potions, and researching cases similar to theirs.

Their friends and families have been begging them to get rested whilst some recommends for them to give up.

Foolish, give up?? How could they!!

Their lover gave them their everything and did tons of shit just for them...so now that they're in a pitch obviously it's their turn to do anything and everything for 'them'.

Even if it means it would take years or centuries as long as they get them back breathing, laughing, talking, and running around like they used to.

They would do everything just to get them back...so open your eyes please

great sevens please give them power and strength to get them back...

if they're watching please just wait for us, love...you'll be with us anytime sooner.

Even if people starts seeing them crazy and mad...may their reputations be stained as long as they get you back.

None of them understood them better other than they...

No one knows they're still alive just waiting....so hold on for a little more ok?

[monochromatictoad]

You know, for the longest time I struggled to associate traditional vampires to Gabriel. Hell, modern vampires I struggled with as well. Well, I think I know why now. Quick trigger warning, there will be mentions of self harm, suicidal ideations and actions, and blades.

Gabriel sucks at being a vampire.

(part 1)

Now hear me out. What are some of vampire weaknesses? Holy artifacts, the sun, a stake through the heart, maybe fire, silver, garlic, and running water?

Yeah, well, Gabriel doesn't share those weaknesses. He is shown reciting prayer, using an object in the shape of a crucifix, and blowing up half a country using holy magic. He can be out in the sun, as seen during his castle portions in LoS2. He can wield hellfire. LoS vampires don't have a weakness to silver, so I'm gonna gloss over that for consistency, however he is seen biting through armor, so he probably wouldn't have that weakness. As far as Garlic and Running water, those two are still unknown if they do anything to LoS vampires, so again I would argue that he would probably be fine.

The only weakness he shares, is being staked. However, it HAS to be HIS Combat Cross that he wielded as a human. However, if MoF is anything to take into account, I could argue that it probably wouldn't actually kill him, but seal him into a blissful limbo, one that he didn't expect, but he grew nearly addicted to and never wanted to leave it. With Trevorcard's sword, the Crissaegrim, which was made with the stake from the Combat Cross/Vampire Killer, it was only just strong enough to seal Gabriel away, but only in a painful, not-death. It wiped memories and powers away from Gabriel. But, the reason I bring that up is because, if you lived for decades in constant physical, emotional, and mental pain; and there was a weapon that you found that could seal you into a dimension where you didn't feel said pain, then you were forced back into the realm of endless pain and agony for several centuries, wouldn't you be desperate to get that sweet release back? Wouldn't you work with one of your nemesis, if it meant you could finally get that bliss back?

What I'm getting at here, is that Gabriel hid the Vampire Killer in MoF, probably for three reasons.

1. To prevent the powerful weapon from falling into the wrong hands

2. Maybe he had a hunch that Trevor had a family, and they would come and face him, so it would make them equal if they took the time to find it.

3. Maybe because all he saw was Trevor's blood on it from where Gabriel killed his own son.(Maybe he was in denial and thought Trevor would not be actually dead and would walk through his doors to face him again, this time winning.)

Secret 4. He was scared to die. This man was very religious as a human, he believed that all people were worthy of redemption should they seek it (except himself). However, he also believed that should someone abuse their powers, they deserved hell. He was still scared of hell. He was scared of how far he fell and knew that he would not be greeted by Marie in heaven, but by Satan in hell. That shit doesn't go away just because you denounced your religion. Trust me from personal experience with religious trauma.

So, if Gabriel was scared to die, but got delightfully surprised by a blissful limbo, it's only fair that he would pick up old habits from being a human and try to kill himself. He literally self-harms in LoS2 with his upgrades and relics, hell even to fast travel.

Let me introduce you to the Piles of Sacrifice, the Pain Boxes, and the Map Rooms.

Pain Boxes are boxes where Gabriel sticks his hands into and they send spikes into his arms. These are needed for the health, void, and chaos magic upgrades. I believe these are linked to the castle, but I can't find proof they are.

These are the Pile of Sacrifice. Gabriel cuts his arm on the blade, and drops his blood into the vase. This will grant Gabriel one of two things, completely at random. Either a Nail of the Kleidos or an upgrade to his consumables.

This is the map room. You fast travel to different parts to either the city or castle. Gabriel is the only one who can use the map. Reason? See that pedestal in front of the map? Gabriel gives a blood sacrifice to the castle. If anyone else uses it, they get injected with a poison that takes minutes to kill them. It is seen as a symbol of the 'Symbiotic' relationship Gabriel has with the Castle.

I should also mention, that Gabriel's weapons are also physically a part of him and his "Shapeshifting" abilities. That will be in part 2 though!

[quietbluejay]

Betrayer 15

Battle of Nuceria time

sadlyy for Lotara she doesn't get to do any orbital bombardment she's missing Lhorke though, he went down to the planet

lmao i love the mental image of a dreadnought playing cards

its deeply ironic that they're also killing all the slaves so Lotara has had like nothing to do for 6 days

yeah and Lotara's astropath head shows up Lotara: I swear if this is yet more about Lorgar's song….

well good news Lotara, you won't be bored now

yep the Ultramarines have caught up to them meanwhile they're waiting to attack the final city of Nuceria "no swift, clean attack"

well if Cyrene's going to suffer at least she gets to do it prettily her statue makes her taste bile

and then, suddenly, one of the mausoleum thralls starts talking to her despite them supposedly having taken vows of silence

and he spoke to her in the language of Monarchia

uhh

yes ADB weighs in on how her name is supposed to be pronounced if you wanted it to be pronounced that way maybe don't spell it identical to the anglicization of an ancient city that IS pronounced sy-reen

i shall ignore it like I ignored what Sanderson said about Kelsier also yes this guy is a perpetual his name is Damon Prytanis and iirc he did show up briefly in Unremembered Empire

so the Cabal are apparently interested in her i am curious as to how they found out it's only been about a month and then he grins and tells her to come with him, which is the point she yells for her guard

and Eshramar burns him to death with his flamethrower

back to Lotara they're facing 41 ships and since most of the World Eaters are off raiding Ultramar… but Lotara isn't hopeless

Lotara likes void war because it's a thinker's war which is funny

Lotara is basically playing ddr on ultra difficulty what with all the Ultramarine ships the Fidelitas Lex is dying

oh hey it's Cyrene's bodyguard his task as you may have guessed is to get Cyrene off of the Lex

lmao this really does have some good black comedy sometimes anyways he's killing everyone in the way except the crowds seem to be endless

he's dragging her as gently as he can, which is unfortunately still painful annd their escape ship is blocked of annnnd someone just headshotted Eshramar so Cyrene draws her knife and charges the thralls that shot him

so this is how Cyrene will eventually show up in TEATD I guess back to Lotara and poor Lehralla is dead (the legless scrymistress) Lotara: RAMMING SPEED

that's a unique comparison two warships colliding being compared to mating sharks don't think i've seen that one before

Lotara finally gets to fire the very expensive ursus claws despite their efforts, bunch of ships got through and they're being boarded

hey Delvarus is doing his job

getting Kargos'd was instructional annnd Ultramarines have arrived on Nuceria

man I guess they didn't have time to fix things up after Calth Guilliman's leeroy jenkins strikes again also Erebus jumpscares Argel Tal, as he is wont to do

Erebus: Kharn is doomed to die under a grey sky at dawn. and what do we have here, eh? eh?

argel tal: MUST PROTECT BESTIE

Lorgar stands dramatically atop a land raider and starts thinking about what a waste this is, killing people just because they're in the way

lol Lorgar looks up and watches the Fidelitas Lex die Lorgar: welp Lorgar: man sucks for Cyrene

I'm honestly surprised no one's done a comic of this bit oh back to Syrgalah and the guy who is Keeda and Toth's boss is now the princeps and is not dealing super well with his first walk this guy: WEVE CRUSHED HOW MANY TANKS WHY DOES SHE STILL HUNGER FOR BLOOD