#its like a life line getting cut in front of your eyes and you cant do anything again it

[ganondoodle]

so for all that dont know the newest news about twitter, mr.manbaby mc dumbo is shutting down any "microservice" of twitter that he deems irrelevant with his oh so superior way of thinking which has lead to ..

.. 2FA not working properly anymore, meaning alot of people are getting locked out of their accounts completely.

[serejae]

ID NEVER FIND SOMEONE LIKE YOU | BND

pairing : bnd x reader

genre : fluff

WHAT ! - summer love with bnd. TW: loser bnd

w.c : 1409

for this anon :) | @onedoornet

-

SUNGHO :

sungho was at the carnival with woonhak after woonhak begged him to go.

“stop being a old man and come with me” woonhak begged as he tugged on sunghos shirt and that was sunghos last straw

you can offer him money, threaten him, but DO NOT call him old.

so now he was waiting in line for the basketball game as woonhak enjoyed his cotton candy, glaring at woonhak he looked up and saw you with your friends who were pointing at him as you stared. as you both made eye contact your lips quirked upwards and so did his, you were beautiful how could he not?

as the line progressed woonhak kept dragging sungho up not knowing what the old man was distracted in, sungho then realized it was their turn to play so he started to shoot the basketballs in order to impress you taking slight glances to see if you were looking. the younger boy put two and two together and realized what was going on.

woonhak turned over to you and yelled

“hey! he likes you” while pointing at sungho making sungho loose a bit of grip on the basketball but he caught it

mumbling a “shut up” to woonhak, woonhak rolled his eyes as he turned back to face sungho as he ate his cotton candy

“i like him too!”

sungho and woonhak turned their head IMMEDIATELY.

“me?” sungho shouted to you

“yes you!” you shouted back

BONK

he didnt pay attention when looking at you and didnt realize he was simultaneously shooting the basketball and as a result of not watching his movements the basketball hit him straight to the head

he held his head as he walked away from the game while woonhak ran to get ice

“are you okay?” you asked making him look up

gosh he was going to pass out

you kneeled down to get a better look at him making his breath hitch

“i like you”

“what?”

“go out with me”

RIWOO :

(imagine icecream worker riwoo…)

riwoo dreaded each summer, he hated going to the sticky and barely insulated ice cream shop he worked at during the summer. but he knew he needed the money to save up for his getaway trip.

the weeks went by normally, boring, angry parents, annoying kids, until you

his eyes perked up as he watched you watch towards the shop and silently hoped that you would order something instead of walking past. riwoo adjusted his shirt and checked his looks through the mirror before turning back to see you standing in front of him making his breath hitch

“uh, how can i help you?” he said trying to keep his voice steady

“can i get a scoop of strawberry please?” you asked making him go heart eyed. your voice was so heavenly

“yeah sure…thats my favorite!” riwoo smiled as he scooped. he was lying

his favorite was that alien flavor they only sell at his shop (but you didnt need to know that)

as he handed you the ice cream he purposely slightly touched your hand while smiling before ringing you up

“alright can i get your number?”

“my number? for what?”

“oh its needed for points…”

“ah i dont think ill come back, i dont go out for ice cream often-“

“please put your number in.”

as you told him your number he smiled writing it down

“arent you suppose to put it into the ipad or something?” you called him out making his eyes go wide

“oh yeah, totally” he coughed as he leaned on the counter slightly tripping pressing random buttons into the ipad

“if you wanted to ask-“ you were then cut off

“lets go out.”

JAEHYUN :

(LMAOOO IM CACKLING)

he didnt know how he got here, but his uncle scored him a job as a mascot for a furniture company. but he cant lie though he enjoyed the job….

jaehyun stood outside waving the banner that waved to the store spinning it around while dancing dressed up as a couch. he was having the time of his life singing songs about the store that he made up while freestyling dances. but as soon as he saw you across the street he froze, jaehyun ran his hand through his hair while clearing his throat trying to act nonchalant after embarrassing himself infront of a baddie. he then saw you walking across the street to him making him panic so his first response was to turn around while using the sign to cover his head

he felt a tap on his shoulder making him wince a bit before he turned around and saw you. for a second he thought he got ran over and died because gosh, you were gorgeous.

“excuse me, i think your signs facing the wrong way…” you laughed

jaehyun looked down and his sign was in fact facing the wrong way. it wasn’t facing the pizzahut rather than the furniture store

“ah silly me” he laughed scratching his head “maybe thats a sign we need to get pizza together”

shit

that came out smoother then expected

laughing at his charm you walked away, when you suddenly heard him call for you

“cmon! im not that bad, lets get pizza!”

-

so now you were sitting infront of a couch with cut out for jaehyuns face where he smiles proudly as he spoke

summer maybe wasnt going to be boring after all….

TAESAN :

taesan sat on the beach reading his book with his headphones in while every so often looking up at the people around the beach. when he turned he saw you laying on your beach towel reading a book while listening to music the same way he was

the way the sunsets light beamed on you from every angle made him stare. its not like he meant to but he couldnt help it

everything about you made him curious

did you do this often?

what were you reading?

what were you listening to?

how fast can he make you his partner?

woah there.

just then you sat up and looked over at him making his cheeks go red at the embarrassment of being caught. he looked back down at his book and tried his best to ignore you

“hey”

dont look up.

dont respond.

ignore.

ignore.

ig-

“hey” taesan said looking over at you

gosh you were even prettier when he got a full view of your face

“what are you listening to?” you asked looking down at his phone connected to his headphones

he quickly turned his phone on to check the song

“black star, radiohead” he smiled slightly

“i love them!” you smiled back

okay now u were fr the love of his life

“really?”

“yeah im listening to glass eye right now” you said showing him your phone

you both scooted closer to each other and slowly through the conversation

books were forgotten

he took out his headphones

you took out yours

and it was just you two with the sunset painting you both

LEEHAN :

leehan was browsing for a new friend for his fishes

this placed was his new home, all the staff knew him

they knew his name

his fishes name

his-

he didnt know you.

as soon as he walked in he noticed you standing at the cash register organizing some stuff, but couldn’t recognize you.

were you new?

he didnt know much about you but knew you were a angel. you looked like the epitome of a perfect fish tank in a human form

so as he browsed the tanks he kept taking small looks at you through the tanks wondering if he should go up to you

now you, very concerned see a man (very handsome one) staring at you repeatedly through the glass not knowing it makes his eyes and face look weird. so it was kinda funny seeing his eyes go big then small and his face go wide to a v shape through the glass

after leehan picked his fish buddy he went up to you to collect his human buddy

“can i get the corydora in the tank in the back?” he asked softly

you nodded and grabbed your supplies while walking to the back. he pointed at the fish he wanted and watched you scoop it into the bag

“you like fish?” he asked

you paused at the question

“a little i guess”

“well i like you”

“WHAT?”

“HUH?”

[siyuuzii]

ENHA REACTION TO A FANBOY !

PAIRING maknae line! enha x mr

( hyung line ver, maknae line ver )

GENRE idol x fan, fluff

WARNING|S none

A. NOTE all writings and reactions from these idols are from MY imagination, it does not reflect their actions and reactions irl!

more under the cut !

⋆｡ ˚ sunoo

okay u cannot guarantee me that when u finally sat down at the chair in front of him, he'll not be acting n treating u like ur his gossip buddy. i mean who could blame him?? after rows n rows n ROWS of lovesick fangirls, there's finally a male that is in his presence! will spend like half of ur time getting to know you both, n quarter of the time signing ur albums n rare photocards n the remaining time gossiping about the other members to u. well not like the usual gossip that would reveal there actual hobbies n stuff, just on camera n the episodes stuff.

when it comes to the signing parts, he'll be so careful and neither do you n him know why!?!? (probably wouldn't want to cover his gorgeous face on that rare photocard of urs!!) also itll be so unique n neat omgg, hes not rushing like before when u noticed his hands where moving so fast during signing the girls albums n when u looked at it, it was literally like a child's hand writing ...

now when the staff told both of u its been already 2 mins past time, and that u needed to go cause there's other people (well now all girls) waiting in queue, he'll be all pouty and would probably reach out at ur hands to hold it as a goodbye, he'll be kinda sad??? but not that much, since he knows that you'll be there on his next fan sign, i mean youve always been there! on every concert, on every fancall. don't think he'll notice you hm? especially with some boy he considers a cutie.

⋆｡ ˚ wang jungwon

he'll smile at you, no not the usual smile he gives to everyone but that big n cute smile of his that's showing his smile dimple ahh!!! he'd think that ur so adorable!! especially with you clutching your album like ur life depended on it while smiling brightly while introducing urself to him.

would ask tons of questions to you like whos ur bias n why, will be so happy and flustered that you can't even see his eyes because hes smiling so much, when you tell him that hes ur bias then going on to explain why. now when signing ur album he'll leave little messages and stuff like 'from your bias jungwon' will write it in korean if you tell you know korean.

hes so touched by your enthusiasm by talking to him and showing him ur drawings of him and the other members, literally showing ur efforts just to give him something! and when ur talking hed be listening so intently, nodding along and sharing stories about behind-the-scenes moments from the episodes youd watch.

after you got up to leave since the staff said so, he couldn't shake off your guys encounter!! he was so touched from your compliments and support to him that it was too much to just forget off. oh, how he was looking forward to seeing you again...

⋆｡ ˚ ni-ki

hes smirking when he saw you, dont know, dont care if that makes a scandal, but hes smirking! the flirtatious way, probably be thinking, 'looks like i can attract more than just the opposite gender'. hes not the one to be first to give out compliments, but with you? he cant help it! his tongue is just slipping out truths coming straight from the heart.

hes going to question u like jungwon, 'who is ur bias?' but if it's not him he'll be so pouty, for example when you answered heeseung, he'll be like why? and when u say hes handsome he'll be pointing to himself and say what about me? am i more handsome then him? like boy, know ur limits, jk jk.

he'll be so impressed by ur pencil drawing of him, and seeing the effort on your handmade gifts makes his heart flutter, and his cheek a hue pink! maybe you'll be the one that inspires him to draw!!!

but boy hes a BIG tease when you're talking to him and suddenly stutter because ur flustered on the way hes looking at you with such interest!! like i said he can help it!! and when its time for you to leave, he'll give you a flying kiss BUT like when he touch his lips with his hand he'll quickly get the flying kiss to ur lips!!! while saying that he'll be looking forward on seeing u again enjoying the way your covering ur lips with your hands with a shock face not believing that his hand just touched your lips!!

[whois-jess]

Can I request a Rhea x Fem! reader in which reader in which they go to do some horror mazes and reader acts brave to make Rhea who's insisting to have them all happy, but ends up getting scared? I used to like horror mazes (I watched them on YouTube because I live in Europe and we have only four or five horror mazes in my country, but some traumatized me and now I don't like them anymore xD)

Horror maze

Rhea Ripley x fem!reader

(Sorry this took so long to get done)

It was the start of October and many would know one of Rheas favorite time of the year, for months now she was talking about it and all the horror movies we can watch and she brought up a horror maze which she was thrilled about and wanted to go to so as my surprise/early birthday present i was taking her.

To me this maze looked and sounded like death but i knew Rhea would love it and thats what mattered to me. "Rhea hurry! We have to get going" i yelled to her as she was the one taking ages this time "damn baby girl i am ready" she chuckles walking around the corner "come on you will love it" i smile grabbing my car keys "will i now" she raised an eyebrow "yes you will" i smile back "maybe if you tell me i will know" i chuckled this time as she has been wanting to know since i told her i had a surprise "nice try love" i said kissing her cheek as we left the house getting in the car.

"Excited" i asked her "yeah i am can i have a clue?" She asks "fine, okay so its to go with Halloween and all that" i said turning left going on to the motorway "Halloween?" She questioned "yes" i smiled when a van cut in front me "bastard!" I yelled honking my horn "if you cant drive fuck off the road!" I yelled again and Rhea laughed "your funny y/n" her hand comes to my thigh patting it not moving her hand afterwards.

"Okay well are here!" I say as well pull into a car park, Rhea looks around beforw her face lights up "oh my god! Its the maze!" She says smiling "yep!" I smile back parking the car turning the engine off "i love you babe" she leans over kissing me "now shall we go in?" I say taking my belt off "uh yes!" Rhea quickly gets out making me laugh as she waits for me "dam girl calm" i say locking the car and she walks over pulling me close to her "your the best girlfriend ever" i smile at her words "i know" i kiss her nose before we walk to the entrance.

As well got closer it has signs says warning dont come closer and crime scene tape the normal 'scary stuff' "welcome you two" a man says dressed as a creepy zombie said "hello" Rhea said holding my hand "stay safe and have the scare of your life" the man said in a creepy way before we walked to the start of the maze "ready?" Rhea smiled "yeah lets just get it over with" i said as we walk in "dont be like that baby it wont be that bad" Rhea say as we take our first corner we turn to see a man dressed as a zombie which jumped scared me a bit "jeez who hides behind a corner" i say and Rhea giggles "he does its his job, looks like a dead end lets go left" she smiles taking my hand "y/n if you want we can go back" Rhea says i knew she was doing because i wasn't the biggest fan of horror mazes right now but she was loving it and i didn't want to ruin it "no baby it fun" i smile at her and she squeezes my hand "okay babe". We turn another corner to see two more zombies walking over "fuck sake".

"Rhea are we lost in a maze of creeps" i raise my eyebrow "Y/n its a maze not a straight line" she smiles kissing my cheek "yeah" we walk down a path and hear a sound "you hear that?" I ask "what sweetheart?" Rhea looks round at me "i think we are being followed" i say looking back "followed? Don't be silly no one is there" we kept walking when i hear something the corner behind us "Rhea there is someone there" my grip tightens on her hand "don't be silly Y/n your fine" my eyes stayed on where the sound came from when a woman in blood and too realistic makeup ran at us "Shit Rhea!" I jumped into Rheas arms "Fuck!" Rhea screamed as well and she runs a bit carring me.

When we got far enough she hugged me and we both laugh "shit that was scary" i laughed "yeah your reaction baby" Rhea chuckled we stood there me in Rheas arms for a bit "lets get out of here" She smiled and kisses me "yeah we have a lot more scares to go" i smiled at her "you got you big strong girlfriend to help you" Rhea jokes and i kiss her "what a hero" we both laugh again before continuing the maze and lets say it was a terrible night sleep but a lot of cuddles.

[stupidsketchpad]

hey guys. im here to rant about how 2econd 2ight 2eer (second sight seer) by will wood is secret life bigb's song because god its eerie how similar the song lyrics are to his character. AHEM (also spoilers for secret life)

My grip on my secrets slipping while I'm speaking in tongues

ok. this is a really good start lol. basically bigb's task don't mean much when he does weird shit anyway for fun and, quote from grian, "writes his own tasks"

Screaming at the top of my lungs in the confession booth

he's saying stuff that litterally makes no sense. even after his task is done he wont tell anyone (confession booth is kinda like people asking about your task after it's done. your confessing your task to someone)

Take it with a pillar of salt, H.A.L.T., it's not my fault

i got nothing man

The devil made me do it, but I also kinda wanted to

THIS LINE AHSHDHSHAH. THE SECRET KEEPER GIVES HIM THE TASKS CAUSE HE HAS TO BUT HE WANTS TO DO THEM ANYWAY ANDDDD MAKE THEM AS CONFUSING AS POSSIBLE. SECRET KEEPER COUNTS AS THE DEVIL HERE

I'm cut from a different kind of meat

More than you can chew, hard to swallow me

"what the hell are you doing??" is a common question he gets asked. hard to swallow. y'know

Forget bored stiff, I got rigor mortis, call it morbid curiosity

How I cannot commit to reality, when my third eye's open and I like what I see

he's doing shit for the sake of doing shit.

Baby, I may be crazy but I didn't lose it, no I set it free

AAAAA THIS LINE TOOO!!! ok so he didn't just randomly start lying in secret life. it was weird before that too! i cant speak for double but LIMITED LIFE he was also confusing people about being the boogeyman. basically that one meme with the "guy weird about everything but its drowned out by how weird about everything the other people are"

I can't ignore what's under dance floorboards, the rhythm of my heart a dead-as-disco beat

But I still move my feet

To slip out of this groove, I'm free

dont got much here but i think this is just him having fun, yknow

Now to row, row, row my boat over the falls

And maybe wake up from but a dream, yeah

"but a dream" is the games. there are three rows in the line. lose your lives to get the game over with.

I'm just a psycho, babe

Come and go out my mind

I didn't lose it babe

There wasn't much to find

once again, this wasnt the first time he was being weird!!!

I'm just a psycho, babe

Come and go out my mind

I'm only passing through

say weird shit, refuse to elaborate, leave.

Oh, oh, o-o-oh

If you knew what I knew, if you saw what I see

You'd look through illusions, hallucinations, and lucid dream

And I know that meaning can be such a pretty thing to keep

But I got facts and I'm not afraid to use 'em, take the good with the bad, take off the back you make a new front

evo, anyone? anyway this man knows about watchers and doesnt care. he knows! he just doesn't give that any meaning.

Some days I'm glad that I am a madman and I'd rather be that than

An amicable animal, mild-mannered cannibal

red lives and how bigb doesn't have the same bloodlust as they do. this guy doesn't kill much, he's like the most passive on the server. /srs

But I'm more level-headed and clever than ever and I'm getting better one forever at a time

how many people guessed any of bigb's tasks? that's right, zero! (if i remember correctly.) he's getting better at the games (btw the games being referred to as "forevers" is just ahshahdghs)

And if sick is defined by what's different, well then pull the plug out and let me die

not much here

Vice-versa, vice versus virtue

Well who I am I choose through all the things I do

AAAAAAAA HE CHOOSES HOW HE IS PERCEIVED BY THE OTHERS BY SAYING HIS STUFF YA GET WHAT IM SAYING

And if it rhymes, it's true, but I hate poetry

contradicting himself. easy peasy analysis here folks.

Now with my moral compass pointing south, I'm going down

With no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no respect for reality

could say this is going red! but also. "going down?" LIKE A HOLE? HE MADE A HOLE?????

I'm just a psycho, babe

Come and go out my mind

I didn't lose it babe

There wasn't much to find

I'm just a psycho, babe

Come and go out my mind

I'm only passing through

I'm just a psycho, babe

Come and go out my mind

I didn't lose it babe

There wasn't much to find

I'm just a psycho, babe

Come and go out my mind

same stuff

A tourist passing through

Well that was fun, goodbye

he died. but hey, he had fun!

anyways thats all thank you for listening to me ramble about songs and minecraft i WILL do this again. sorry if this is incoherent i wrote it at 10:00 pm.

psst... moot... @bigb-enthusiast... would you like this?

[maxrowave]

Snippets of KYD pretentious writing stuff that’s kind of pretentious and composed of 99% bullshit jargon...

sometimes late at night, i want to write and pretend im super deep and meaningful, what better way to use kill your darlings (film) as an outlet? All of these r from Lucien’s perspective because it means i get to use my fancy words, but at the same i cant hold a candle to his thoughts so if it gets weird, just hang on mate :P im probably using ; wrong lmao and a lot of grammatical errors i repeat stuff a lot too there is no order to this, its all just random bits of writing put together (1) Their complicated relationship taunted Lucien from a distance, because he was ever-present in the notion that Allen was intrigued in him in the wrong way. It was inappropriate for what the two of them were, maybe in different circumstances, in a different life, maybe he would've. If he weren't so spontaneous and abhorred even the slightest hint of being forced to be chained down by something so, permanent and that it didn't resemble a certain someone; then maybe, just maybe, he could love himself enough and return the same favour. While Lucien was always one for venturing long past the societal subject to normalcy, this was the exception that haunted him. A heavy drum in his heart that weighted him down, the notion that he could ever be seen in a light that glorified him into some sort of benevolent heaven sent was dreadful. It confused him, how Allen could somehow wade through his labyrinth of bullshit layered upon alter ego after another. He still sought out the beauty in this sewage, it was a skill Lucien himself lacked, and envied. Allen Ginsberg was in love with him, a queer. He'd used Allen's dangerous comfort by him against the other on occasions, primarily as pivoting points to tease him when the opportunity arose. However, he was unsure if Allen was aware, that he was too. He had already surpassed the thin line they often teetered on, and now Lucien could only kick himself for not seeing the signs earlier, preventing this whole dysfunctional relationship. This was not a fickle love story, this was a parasitic weed choking the plants beneath it to survive. He could only pretend as if he were completely unacknowledged about the state of their bloody and bruised romantics for so long. "Queer." He begun, the first word in what felt like decades of silence, a blessing to cut through the uncomfortable tension developing; and not particularly in the way he lived off of. "Aren't you? "Lucien's eyes never diverged off of the passing ocean in front of them, the breeze had crept down his spine but the bottling ball of nervousness was keeping him far more occupied than the chill of the wind ever could. He didn't know why that was the first word he uttered, why he would confront the elephant in the room that they both had to be so aware of and never mentioned. They could've lived in that silent acknowledgement for the rest of their days, Allen was a homosexual and did little to hide his attraction to Lucien. He would've had to be an idiot to not figure that out. Those three words was all he would allow himself to say for tonight, refusing to elaborate on how much he knew. Like how it was deliberately obvious that Allen was pining and Lucien didn't know how to go on about it without resorting to drastic measures. It was one thing to sneak off away with him one night past curfew to drink a little, it was another to so easily toss away his lively hood and any chance of success for someone like him. How could Allen ever love someone like him and consciously feel good about it too? He felt guilty, that was new and he quickly found a distaste to the new emotion. Lucien wished Allen could hate him in the way he did to David, maybe then he would leave, allow Lucien to rot and fester in the manifestations of his poor decisions. Hate him while he still could, before he sank too deep and got choked by the weeds, perhaps Allen would be able to return back to Columbia, write little poems that would conform to the rules of rhyme and meter. How was Allen simultaneously the most brilliant man he'd ever met and yet so reckless. How could he ever find the heart in himself to love Lucien Carr? Lucien's head hung low, miserable, but now with the absence of sobriety, his eyes swelled up, god he fucking regretted a lot and had dragged someone like Allen; wonderful Allen Ginsberg who had so much potential, into the dirt and stomped on his legs so he could never run again. "I'm sorry." (2) Lucien unable to place a label on what he and Allen were, lingered not too far from Jack; his mind half stuck on the leftover scraps of their previous moment where they'd just held each other. The more he kept Allen around, the more the line that was their friendship began to blur. He made friends spontaneously, he wasn't a long-term man, dropping people as he went along with the motions of life. Even better yet, if they resigned from the friendship first, beating Lucien to the inevitable separation he would've done anyways. Faces he'd met along the years began to blur a long time ago, the only ever prominent one being David. But pray as he might, no matter how much he drank or befriended, dropped, he could still see him as clear as day when he closed his eyes. At least that was how it was before meeting Allen, now he could see beyond the distance, past the mosaic blur. Perhaps it was the fresh abandonment, the lacking of support that had caused him to act so sporadically. Because he wanted to follow Allen to the edge of the Earth too, blindly; he wanted to trust again. The cold persevered, Lucien glanced at Allen manoeuvring through the crowd to the best of his abilities. Jack stood out, practically towered, he was like a light-house of sorts and that notion made him grin, just a little. As far as the eye could see, the ocean kissed the star-filled sky, without the lights around, it was easier to see the constellations. He was never an astronomy man, but he still found appreciation, perhaps more metaphysically. Lucien turned to look at Allen, just managing to make him through the dark and the dimly lit lanterns scattered across the boat. He didn't utter a word, just staring at the other. It was supposed to be a glance of reassurance, or at least a cry for one without the messy combination of loosely fitted words. It had yet to occur to him why Allen had kept around him so long with an undeterred devotion. It ached him, that Allen yearned for him so similarly. (3) "Christ Allen, you're not gonna make me say it are you? "There was that half-hearted attempted to make his voice appear as if it weren't cracking at the seams with all the loose threads coming undone. He inhaled a deep breath, shuddering as it exhaled past his lips and for Allen to hear just how low Lucien had finally descended, now he knew who he truly was; An imposter of an angel, feeding off of the whims of life for as long as his legs could still move and his mind could still rummage through the slums. "You shouldn't be here, or at least besides me. "It came out quieter than he'd preferred, he knew he sounded antagonistic with the way he was wording his sentences. But if it meant that this was the very last gift he could provide Allen, past the whirlwind of late night escapades and hungover mornings, through the poem recitations, he would do it. Allen would be safer else where, perhaps happier too, and it ached him to admit that he was finding himself developing an attachment of sorts. This would end badly, both of them knew it and yet they continued to light the flame on all their matches, waiting for it to burn their finger tips. He sniffed, still quite unsure how he was supposed to go on about with Allen's infatuation with him. To fall in love with Lucien Carr was a sin of its own, the many people that had came before Ginsberg had met unfortunate fates as a by product of hanging around him. Once they'd tasted the freedom he was able to provide at the sacrifice of all stability, the moment he diverged from them, they were no longer able to function on their own; always striving to try achieve that same feeling. Like David trying to revive their long overdue relationship that had ended the moment he'd left the state, resorting to desperate measures to glue onto him like a parasite. (4) Lucien was stuck, he had clung deep to the old habits of his past self, refusing to change in favour for an fruitless ambition that if he persevered for long enough, he may just be rewarded. His present self, the one enduring the brunt of it all and ever so aware of how Allen's fingers snuck around his back and pressed into him, thawing the chill that was beginning to bite at his skin. He knew he himself was aching for the fresh abandonment, a clean white slate after he'd so recklessly treated the last one. Without hesitation, he brought his own hand back up trying to desperately hide from the swimming memories still haunting him. How Allen tolerated him was a feat of its own. He wonders what Allen thinks of him too, after his grandiose displays of artificial knowledge that border on the line of pretentiousness to the common eye and could only be understood by someone who had bared in the same footsteps he'd followed to a path of misery. Because he'd be lying if he said that he wasn't actively aware of what he did had its share of consequences, he'd taught himself to strand all glimpses of attachment just so he could continue preserving his unhealthy habits. His conviviality is lost and he hopes Allen will still continue to stick around despite that, once realising his personality is made up of loosely threaded bits of false truths constantly spewing out of his lips. (5) Allen is a patient soul that has spent too much time for him, and it gets his deserted hopes, the ones he'd purposely buried under thick layers of impulsivity and the clumsy gambling of his life, running. He's shaky in his arms, the material of his coat is cheap and itchy against his cheek, the obvious signs of coming from a lower middle class, and he yet he still continues to caress himself into the embrace despite that. Ironically as a self proclaimed writer, he has yet to develop the skills to properly come up with the words to communicate his exact thoughts without masking it in some vague metaphor. He hopes Allen's brilliant mind can crack this puzzle, and understand Lucien's appreciation in more ways than one. His companion is generally standard in terms of physical aesthetics, he could see how some girls may lean into him, being more the type to bring back home to your parents. Lucien recognises Allen's partial-innocence is attractive to others, it was what drew him in the first place, a victim to Ginsberg's charms it seems; an untainted soul yet infected by the old verses of a generation blinded by their false intellectual merits. (Technically, he's dressed in the same traits as the generation he so abhorred, but the difference between him and them were that they were old bigoted fucks rooted in their own cages of confliction that only they may be right).  Their library heist had only continued to backed up his claim with the librarian being ever so inclined because of his inexperience. But Allen has now been grounded with a dozen experiences under his belt, and Lucien enjoys that his participation has now become a big contribution for the other's new mindset, for the better or worse. No longer an unbloomed stalwart, he loves how Allen thinks, how it almost mimics his and yet deviates in the best possible ways, enough to keep him on his toes, still enough space left to argue for a point. (6) Lucien parted his mouth, getting ready to spill the poetic injustices that he just so abhorred, that would eventually pivot into a vessel of knowledge in his own self-righteousness and inserting his own opinions into them regardless if they're relevant. A rhythmic knocking instead places itself where Lucien's voice should've been, it echoes from behind them and it sends chills down his spine. There's a beat of silence that remains between him and Allen, eyeing the door in hopes it was potentially the hall monitor or some lost freshman trying to find their way. "Lucien, please, I know you're in there.” It's David, pitiful and no longer sounding like the same man he did just a few weeks ago; when he was imbibing on the cups of egotism because he held all the strings to Lucien's feeble fate, regardless of where the gazelle escaped, the lion would follow until the prey felt weary. It was in his weakest moments would David present himself as a last resort, like some Guardian Angel. Lucien bats an eye at Allen, freezing up and looking for the next best thing to do. He's about half-way through packing and if he rushes to grab the remnants of his soul scattered around his dingy dormitory, then he might have a chance of escaping the circle. "I know I messed up, I'm really really sorry. Let me in, and we can talk about it, we can be just like we used to.” It's a leverage David uses often because he understands that's all that Lucien yearns, is for someone to rely on. David expects him to be sympathetic, attempting to twist the narrative of their bitter past into some lost-love story meant to fate in a happy ending. There's still a part of Lucien clinging onto what they used to have, this is what the result of their relationship was; still expecting sugar when given salt.

[lunatic-fandom-space]

Elisabeth Kaiserin von Österreich (1972) [Elisabeth Empress of Austria]

This was kind of a weird one, but I really liked it!

The thing that was weird was that this felt way more like a documentary than a film, even though Wikipedia specifically lists it as a film on Elisabeth's page and not in the section with the documentaries, which is why it ended up on my list of Sissi-media, but it doesnt really feel enough like a documentary for me to call it that. Like, it has these sections with narration over montages of paintings and historical photographs where its just some guy recounting various battles and political decrees and what people at the time thought of them, but it also has actors playing Elisabeth, Franz Joseph and everyone else whos relevant in scenes that dont really feel like reenactments, its kinda weird, Ive never seen anything like this. The ending credits call it a 'Dokumentarspiel' which means something along the lines of 'dramatized documentary', and I think that's a very fitting term for it.

Because of that, it didnt really have much of a story and I feel like I cant really talk about this film the way I talked about the others. Like, it's basically just sober recountings of major historical events interspersed with somewhat relevant anecdotes from Elisabeth's life and then towards the end we get less of the historical events as she withdrew from politics and public life, and it doesnt really elicit a lot of emotion from me, which is what I prefer. But I mean, I thought it engaging and that it painted a very interesting picture of Elisabeth. And it was nice getting some actual information for once, Ive mentioned before that I really dont know anything about history and Ive been trying to steer clear of treating anything that's portrayed in any of these films as factual because obviously the people making them are going to take creative liberties for the sake of making a cohesive story, but it doesnt seem like that was the case here. It really makes me want to watch more documentaries, I think I might do something something similar to this project in the future, where I look for a bunch of documentaries and watch them in chronological order, that could be interesting. I probably wouldnt write reviews for those though

Anyway, lets talk about the other stuff. The editing was mostly fine, it was just a bit weird during some of the historical events-segments but it wasnt a big deal. The pacing was good too, given that there wasnt much of a story or a throughline (other than Elisabeth as a person i guess) I think it could have become meandering and feel like a bit of a drag, but it didnt. Although to be fair, this film was on the shorter side, its only 80 minutes. The only part that really dragged on was the scene of Elisabeth and Franz Joseph being crowmed king and queen of Hungary, they show the whole slow ceremony and it was very boring.

And if I'm already talking about scenes that kinda bother me, Elisabeth's assassination was very strange. Like, it shows her and Lucheni walking toward each other at the docks in geneva and it keeps cutting back and forth between them as they both walk at a brisk but measured pace, until he suddenly starts running and then he kindof skids to a halt on his knees right in front of her and quickly stabs her before running off. Elisabeth doesnt really react and the woman who's with her is like "oh no, what happened, are you hurt" but she says it in such a mild way, they straightup did not notice that she got stabbed. So yeah, Elisabeth tells her that everything is fine, shes just a bit shocked and she thinks that guy just puched hef, and she just. keeps walking. The woman is like "are you really sure youre not hurt" and she goes "ah, you know, now that you mention it, I guess Im in a little bit of pain" and she starts trailing off and then collapses. So thats it. Im guessing this was based on like, the real life testimony of the woman who was with her and eye witness reports and all that but still, what a series of events huh.

And last but not least, the actors were all okay. I think they couldve all been better but they werent bad or anything. I will say though, something about Marisa Mell as Elisabeth bothered me, I think its the fact that they start this film off with a bunch of paintings and photographs of her and then Marisa Mell just looks nothing like her. Especially when you compare that to how Peter Fröhlich actually does look quite a bit like Franz Joseph does in the paintings, just less prettyboy-ey and also hid eyes arent so blue and scary. And I mean, the actresses they get to play Elisabeth rarely look like her because they usually just cast generally attractive women with brown hair because yknow, she was supposed to be incredibly beautiful but the beauty standards have changed a lot since then and are shifting, but still.

Anyway, that's it. I didnt want to watch any documentaries as part of this little project, I wanted to focus on the media thats purely fictional, for lack of a better term, but this was a very good one and Im glad I ended up seeing it

[save-the-villainous-cat]

so uh i did ask you about any hard Nos and this wasnt mentioned but if this is too much feel free to ignore this and just be like no im not doing this also this is just kinda dark so i completely understand if this is too much because its a lot i would put a cut here but i cant do that in an ask so imma just do a bunch of returns so you can delete this without reading it if you dont feel comfortable basically tw attempted su*cide

but basically hero has decided to track down villain to their base the base turns out not to be the sort of thing the hero expected as its actually not a high tech penthouse but some dingy apartment in the bad part of the city and its really ramshackle and everything

its actually pretty easy to just walk in as the security is practically nonexistent and the hero just kinda walks right in to the villains apartment i mean they do kinda do some lock picking and sneaking but do they really need it probably not

hero doesnt see villain and cant seem to find them until they check the bathroom

villain is really out of it because they tried to slash their wrists open and bleed out which they did but they have a regeneration power that the hero didnt know about so theyre slowly coming back

hero is naturally really upset and tries to ya do some basic medical stuff and thinks the villain is dead and tries to call the hospital but villain is able to stop them and they have a conversation because it turns out hero came looking for villain because they were worried about villain and hero works as some sort of psychiatrist or psychologist or one of those other specialist people who are trained to deal with this and basically villain saw all of their friends murdered and whatnot and while they did get revenge now they just dont have a reason to keep going because they have no one left and their family had abandoned them as a child because they had powers so no support network and they just wanted it all to end but they cant cause regeneration

yeah sorry if that was heavy heres a video of a cute baby seal to help you https://naralovesangst.tumblr.com/post/673269768472674304/everythingfox-round-boy

tw: suicide attempt

Sticky situations were part of the job. There was no reason for denying it— what the hero had seen during their nights as superhero was traumatising. Everyone knew how heinous this job could get, how easy it was to lose your humanity in this line of business. Sometimes, the hero thought they had changed to the worse because of it.

They had to put distance between themselves and their family. Friends were non-existent and lovers were out of the picture anyways. It was a lonely and utterly sad job. But the hero knew it was important.

Keeping that in mind, the hero desperately tried to hold onto that. It wasn’t easy. No one had ever said it would be. But watching — watching what was happening right in front of them would scar them for life.

“No. No,” they managed to choke out. “No. Look at me.”

Their hands cupped the villain’s cold face as their thumbs rubbed circles into their cheeks. The villain’s eyes were closed, their face sickly pale. Looking down at them was for the hero infeasible. There was just so much blood drenching the villain’s clothes, their bathtub, the bathmat was soaked, too. The villains was basically swimming in it. They also hadn’t bothered to take their clothes off, leaving the hero with the bitter thought that they must’ve been in a rush.

“Don’t do this to me. Please, don’t do this.” The hero couldn’t control the stream of tears, they had always been bad at that but now, even their usually steady hands were trembling as if an earthquake was going through their body. Somewhere in their overworked brain, they got their shit together and squeezed the open wrists to stop the bleeding.

They knew it wasn’t hygienic, they knew it wasn’t perfect but they had to do something. They couldn’t just sit there and watch the villain die and feel their own heart shatter.

The hero was catapulted back into their teenage years, finding their teammate in the same position. There hadn’t been this much blood but the claws digging into the hero’s innards were about the same. At that time, the hero had puked. The most cruel thing about it was that they had been warned by their superiors before. They had told them the program was hard and would demand discipline. And that some might not make it.

Still, it was the worst that could ever happen to a best friend of thirteen years.

Now, the hero couldn’t allow themselves to puke. Now, they were squeezing the villain’s wrists. Now, they had to be stronger than the scared little shell they had been years ago.

Their sobs filled the messy apartment, a cruel reminder of their desperation. The sounds echoed back to them and outside, the cars were still driving and the people were still laughing. But here inside, worlds were falling apart and the hero was left to hold them back up again.

“Don’t do this,” they begged quietly. They couldn’t lose another person to this.

Please say something. Curse me. Scream. Anything.

The hero reached for their phone, ready to contact the hospital. But then, then, the villain finally jolted, opening their eyes and moving in the bathtub. God, so much blood.

There was still this feeling in their chest like someone was punching their throat but that didn’t change anything about the relieved gasp which left their mouth.

“Hi,” the villain mumbled, obviously confused.

“Don’t speak,” the hero answered, their tears turning into tears of joy. They were about to call an ambulance but the villain took the hero’s wrist instead, pulling the phone away.

“No hospital,” the villain answered. They groaned and let their head sink back, leaning against the porcelain, closing their eyes. “Please, no hospital. I am fine.”

The hero let out a humourless laugh.

“Please, you’re not fine.” The villain raised their arm, inspecting their wrists. Then, they turned it towards the hero. Slowly, very slowly, the skin started to knit itself together until the cuts had vanished, leaving nothing but thin scars. Regeneration was a rare genetic mutation and the hero had never known the villain had it.

That changed nothing, though.

“Yeah, I am fine,” the villain said again, their voice raspy. The amount of blood suggested that the villain was anything but fine, however, the hero still needed to talk about the villain’s self-destructive behaviourism to make sure this was never ever going to happen again.

“C’mon, I’ll get you out,” the hero whispered and in the same breath, their arms went around the villain. Once they stood up, the villain needed the hero for support. Their regeneration wasn’t fast enough to make up for the blood loss, apparently. The hero wasn’t surprised. So, instead of forcing the villain to go anywhere, they led them down, to sit on the bathroom floor.

Shit, the hero was angry. Their muscles were clenching and unclenching in their fingers, their jaw setting. They wanted to scream, they wanted to cry.

This was probably selfish. This was about the villain, not about them. And still, they couldn’t bury the thought of being responsible for this. They didn’t know it yet, but they would carry that thought with them for the rest of their life.

“Why? Please, tell me why?” the hero asked as soon as the villain was on the floor. They dropped to their knees, meeting the villain’s eyes. “How can I make sure you’re never going to attempt this again?”

“Why do you care?” the villain snarled, leaning their head against the bathtub.

“Because you’re important to me.”

“You’re funny.”

“I am serious,” the hero argued. Their bloody fingers closed around the villain’s, squeezing slightly. Not even a minute ago, the villain’s hands had been freezing and even though they were still cold, the hero could feel the warmth coming back. “How do I stop this?”

The villain snorted. It was their usual dry amusement gnawing on them.

“You are probably going to tell me this whole psychiatrist bullshit, aren’t you? You will tell me life is worth living, that it has a purpose, that it’s going to be better. I won’t believe you but it will make you feel better. So, go ahead, cleanse yourself of any guilt. I am not judging you.”

“No.”

“Sorry?”

“No,” the hero said again. “There is no purpose. There is no destiny.”

The villain looked at them as if they were a stranger which was…probably true, considering the hero was supposed to be the positive one.

“Good. Then let me die the next time.”

Although it was subtle, the hero could feel how the villain was about to draw the hand the hero was holding back.

“No.”

“Your vague responses don’t raise any spirits.”

“You decide what your life’s purpose is,” the hero said, voice shaking. “You breathe, that means you have the right to live.”

“So, call me a criminal when I try to kill myself. Not very different from my current job.”

The hero was crying again but they stared stubbornly at the villain, letting the tears simply fall.

“You don’t get to end your life because you have lost your path. Because you feel like life abandoned you. Life doesn’t care. But you should. And when you have lost that path, you take it upon yourself to search for a new one. You make yourself a new one. You evolve. That’s what nature does.”

“Like I said, you’re funny.”

“Your life has value, don’t you see that?!” the hero asked, deeply concerned. “You fill it with all the good stuff, just for yourself. Life is about walking along a beach with the sunset on your back. Life is about watching your favourite movie a hundred times. Life is about learning how to crochet and being terrible at it. Life is about riding your bike in summer and hating how much you sweat after it.” Another tear streamed down the hero’s cheek. “Life is about learning. And life is about falling and standing up.”

The villain stared at them for a very long second. They stretched out their arm and brushed the tear off the hero’s cheek with their thumb.

“I have nothing anymore,” they whispered.

“You have me,” the hero answered as if it was a proposal and a confession in one.

Again, the villain stared at them and then, they started crying.

They hadn’t done that in over a decade.

[cynettic]

Stay with Me pt.3

Summary - You manage to escape from Scaramouche, if only for a moment before you realize there’s no escape. It only takes until you’re sitting back in your regular spot that you know what you need to do.

Pairings - Kitsune!Reader x Yan!Scaramouche

Warnings - Suggestive content, mentions of death, swearing, slight gore / blood 

A/N - Its really hard to make this depressing while I’m vibing to Rasputin. Like no joke- I have it on one of the 1 hour playlists :D

Here you’ll find -  pt.1 and pt.2

He’d left a key.

Scaramouche didnt make mistakes, not while he had you captive in the vicinity of his bedroom. He didnt have room for mistakes, not when you were watching his every movement while he was in your line of sight. 

Sure, he mightve killed a person or two in front of you, but those were necessary mistakes. There was a sign on the door, it specified not to enter. You’d understand that, right?

Thats what he thought at least, lulling himself into belief after belief that you’d be there waiting for him every time. That you’d welcome him with open arms, even if there were chains ensnaring your wrists. That you’d accept your fate at his hands and submit yourself to him.

The Balladeer was a fool.

He’d kept you there for too long, and while you searched for an easy way to escape, time sent your head spinning. Into a spiral that begged only for the wind against your face, back laying on dirt with the familiar chirping up birds waking you up in the morning.

You wanted to go outside.

And when push comes to shove, you had to risk a little more to make it happen. Lure him into bed with kisses while your hands unbuttoned his vest. But what he believed to be alluring contacts was just your way of finding the keys hidden in the back pocket of his shorts.

It wasnt hard to find the one to your cuffs while he was asleep, cuddled in your chest with both arms around your waist as if to get you to stay put. You took the key, hiding them back in his clothing and hoping he didnt notice.

He didnt say anything the next day.

You werent going to wait any longer.

“Oh for fucks sake, why won't the goddamn door open?”

The room was left in tatters behind you, a little gift for Scaramouche once he got back. Turns out a pair of chains can smash up a lot of things, and rage can be used as a great source of strength when contained for such a long time.

But you’d done more than throw the blankets around, cut up the drawers and smash open the windows. Because your fists had bled red when you punched through the glass, puncturing your skin. Your knuckles were an ugly red, bruising already.

Ah, Scaramouche deserved a much better gift.

Gruesome as it was, you rubbed your knuckles against the pale walls. Till the blood stopped coming, till there was a nice little message for the boy which you held so dearly to your heart.

‘Balladeer.’

The first time you’d found out about him being a harbinger he’d told you not to call him by that name. You weren’t someone he associated with by work, you were a treasure to him. That’s why you continued to call him as he pleased, although the temptation always arose.

You were no longer his.

Shoving the door with your hand again, palm fiddling with the handle and groaning when it hardly budged. “Stupid,” you grumbled when the knob began to loosen. Backing up, you charged with your shoulder to the door, full force as the momentum broke the hinges. The door fell down with you along with it.

It was expected, you’d been stuck in the room for a long time, and thats considering you’d sat on the ground for decades. Your body was slight numb, muscles sore and unused for so long. 

“You a-arent supposed to leave your room!”

A young man stood in the hallway along with a woman who looked relatively the same age. The two were wearing uniforms, flinching when you stood up from the debris and off the door. “Excuse me?” You asked, voice unnecessarily icy and stern. But you couldnt care less, you were going to get out of this house, damn anyone who stood in your way.

They both continued to shake when you walked towards them, staggering from side to side. The woman stepped up in front of the man, presenting a brave face. “If you leave the mansion, the harbinger will kill us all!”

“Well then I expect you should be on your way then. Actually…” you gestured to the maze of hallways. “You can lead the way.”

“What…?”

Your hand went limp to your side, an exasperated looking momentarily crossing your face before you sighed. “Im not staying trapped in that room, I’m sorry if that ruins your life, but frankly you're not the one stuck in there are you?” You took an extra step just to intimidate them, eyes wide to make the appearance of crazy. “It would be a great help if you showed me where he hid my vision too.”

“We can show you to the door…” The man began, “But the whereabouts of your vision are unknown, he wouldnt tell us something like that.”

A gift bestowed from the gods, a piece to help me thrive with my ambitions and pursue my goals.

Gone.

You really wished you’d taken to clawing out Scaramouche’s face instead, but you’d take what you got. Right now your main priority was getting out of this place, even if it meant leaving a piece of you behind.

“Door.” Your voice was raspy and there was a terrible feeling that crawled up to your throat, but you didnt have time to be emotional. “Show me where the door is… please.”

The conflict in their eyes dissipates by the time they lead you along, mumbling words between themselves. You didnt bother to try eavesdropping, you were so, so tired. You wanted to go home.

Anywhere. Anywhere but here.

It took a few minutes until you were standing in front of a grand door, almost twice the size of you and just as wide. You then began to notice the decorational plants and furniture that filled the empty space, there wasn't an inch of dust. Even though you could tell none of it was used.

“Hurry,” the man warned when you paused. “I dont know when our master is coming back, but if its soon, we’ll all be screwed.”

You couldnt feel your head as you numbly nodded, hand clenching the knob and flinging the set of doors open. “Thank you,” you merely mumbled, taking your first step out of the house in what felt like forever.

The days after that were a blur, the area around Scaramouche’s house were nothing but void. Empty and filled with forests and vast plains. You knew he didnt like people or socializing in general, but to this extent?

Your only option was to run.

Let your feet take you somewhere, anywhere. It was a constant pattern of running and taking breaks, leaning on a tree and gasping in a few breaths before you were again scurrying through the forest. 

And yet you felt better than you’d felt in past months that you’d been stuck with Scaramouche.

Food became any boar you came across, the claws you’d spent so long hiding with Scaramouche coming to unleash a wrath beyond your comprehension. Till the animal was cut to shreds and no meat was left even to eat. You’d slaughtered it, without intention to eat or benefit for it, you’d killed it just to kill.

“I’m sorry,” you’d sobbed into the ground where you’d buried the harmless animal. Forehead pressed into the dirt as you pleaded for forgiveness to whatever archons would accept it. You couldn't even remember what archons you were supposed to pray to. “Forgive me- forgive me…”

But eventually you found your way around to somewhere you knew. Territory of Inazuma where you could find your way back, back home.

Where was home?

You’d been on the run from the vision hunt decree, abandoning your post for the Kitsune Saiguu for such a thing. Even now that you could return without a vision and as no threat under the decree…

You’d sacrificed everything for your vision.

Where were you to go now…?

Rain patted down, the trees providing only a slight cover as stray drops fell into your matted dirty hair. You didnt mind, it hid the tears that slid down your lifeless face, feet taking you into the far meadows of your hometown. Till you plopped down underneath a tree, knees curled to your chest and arms hugging them close. You were crying.

You were home.

____________________

“Awh,” a ginger haired murmured, elbow resting on the cool wood of the tabletop. “Is little Mouchie sad? I heard your kitty cat escaped~”

A death wish, even fatui that idly minded themselves around the bar knew it. Sipping cold drinks and swirling their cups, the soft chatter was nothing but a distraction from the main course of events. That being the smaller Harbinger who sat sulking in his seat, hunched over with a drink in hand. He’d drank far more than what was on the counter, but everytime he finished a glass, he’d smash it on the ground, watching the fragile glass shatter into pieces.

“I dont have a cat,'' was his only response, tone daring Childe to pursue further. To give him a reason to start throwing the glass in his face instead.

And Childe was an idiot when it came to challenging someone.

“No cat?” The rest of the drink in the taller harbinger’s glass was gone when he threw his head back. “Hmmm, I cant think of what else could’ve had you so enraptured in returning home then~!”

Scaramouche didnt respond, uneven bangs shadowing the bags under his eyes. “Stronger,” he said instead, elbow on the counter and hand outstretched for something. When there was no movement from the man managing the wine, the harbinger looked up. “I need something stronger to drink,” he repeated, voice seething.

“Of c-course!”

The glass was nestled in Scaramouche’s palm in no time, fingers curling around the circular form to down it in seconds. The drink merely slid down his throat in one movement, alcohol burning his senses. It didn’t matter, he was numbed by the growing rage inside of him.

Finally, he turned to the ginger haired boy, eyes hazily dancing along the counter till it reached his fingertips. Up his hand and along his arm, till Scaramouche was staring right into Childe’s eyes. “They escaped,” he admitted softly. “But it’s alright, because I sent something that’ll bring them back.”

Childe paused, raising his drink up away from his lips to pose a question. Hesitation danced along his features before he brought the glass back, he’d rather not provoke the shorter male any further. Wasn’t like he could interfere anyway.

____________________

“That… that…” 

It was preposterous, having returned to that same spot for a day or two and heading back to the hometown you’d once lived in. The one Scaramouche had lived in. There shouldn’t have been an issue, you were solely gathering supplies for the sake of it, ambition driving you to travel far far away.

Out of Inazuma.

It was your new beginning, convincing yourself that you didn't need a vision. Finding some sort of purpose before Scaramouche shattered the vision and your life along with it. You’d seen how people had reacted when it had been ingrained in the statue, neutralized and broken. They lost hope, purpose and aspirations for anything new.

It’s not like the Raiden Shogun took my vision.

But you’d taken that fact for granted, expecting some sort of new start without Scaramouche. A victory, getting away from him just for a split second and getting out of Inazuma altogether, you’d never see him again.

Until you got his message.

“How the hell…” You crushed the note until it was just crumbled paper in your hand, slowly leaning on the stone wall. “Piece of shit… what kind of person even…” 

Not only did he manage to find you, but without making his presence known, he’d tugged at your one weakness with an ease that had you down on your knees.

You threw the paper to the ground, deliberate as you stared past the alleyway. Pensive as you considered your options. Damn, what options did you even have? You’d been an idiot to underestimate Scaramouche, he wasn’t a child, you knew that… but archons he seemed like one when he was with you. Shown you a vulnerability he wanted only you to see. But maybe that had been part of his plan all along, until all you believed was his soft demeanor.

He may act like a child, but he’s a harbinger.

You stared down at the crumbled piece of paper in disgust.

Not only that, but he has no regard for human life.

Either way, you’d lived decades more than him. You could face him, you would present yourself to him just as he expected you to. Even when everything in you rejected the idea, sobbed at the thought of returning to that house, those chains. Being locked up and confined only for the purpose of coddling a small boy, a selfish boy, a cruel boy. 

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

You’d figure out a way, and this time you wouldn’t rule out the option of his death.

———————

Oh darling Y/n, how have you been?

I hope this letter reaches you rather soon, we both have much to discuss, no? About me, about you, and much more. You see, I’ve taken up quite a distaste to your little friends. Stone statues in Inazuma as small as Kitsunes truly hold no purpose, what will they do, come back to life? Haha, I should think not. I’ve already arranged to have them demolished, who knows what kind of material they might possess. Ah, and of course I’d show you the finishing product, unless you’re willing to come and have a chat with me once more? Under the Sakura tree like we used to, you’ve waited years, I believe you can wait for me?

I hope this letter reaches you in best interests. I’m always looking out for you after all.

Sincerely, your Balladeer

——————

It was raining.

Beautiful weather as you lay sitting there, feet crossed and tucked in the same you’d often do. After all, there was no need to fear the vision hunt decree or the Raiden Shogun. Let them come, let them take care of you before Scaramouche did.

You werent cold, not when the cold drops dampened your clothing, slipping down the length of your spine and drenching your face. Despite having lived in a luxury residency for such a long time, this was where you were most comfortable, enduring whatever the weather had for you, taking it with a smile. Because you were waiting…

The Kitsune Saiguu was a distant memory.

You were waiting for Scaramouche, the young boy that often bound into the field in lengthy strides, childlike wonder in his eyes. The one who’d cried when the other kids pushed him away, the one that just wanted to be praised. You’d held him in your arms, and now, even knowing the results, you wouldnt have done differently.

He was just a boy.

Just a boy when he joined the fatui, looking for praise that he was given. He created chaos and bellowed orders with a cruelty that was highly looked upon. Told that he was doing well, so he continued to do so.

He’s just a boy.

You wished you’d held him in your arms, if not only for a tad longer. Shield him away from the wrongness of the world, if only for one last time.

Banishing away your hatred for him was hard.

But you found it under the tree, rain soon dimming down to a clouded cold breeze that swept through the meadow. You’d hated him while stuck in the mansion, but you could now see it from a larger point of view. What he did was wrong of course, but you could remember him so vividly now. His small form giggling, tiny arms around your neck. 

“Play with me!”

Was it your fault?

For not holding him tighter? For trying to rectify his bad doings and teach him what was wrong and right? Maybe if your grip was firmer, if you’d spoken to him about the warmth he’d given you that day when playing cards...

“Lazy ass.”

Burying down that pile of worry and insecurities, you took a deep breath in to relax. The edge of your lip perked up, only slightly. “Still terrible with your social skills arent you?”

Slowly securing a dry space under the three with you, Scaramouche sat down. His features were the same ones you’d grown accustomed to at his mansion. Rich clothes, sharp eyes, and the baby face that refused to go away. His movements were soft as he pulled out a deck of cards. The two of you didnt speak as he distributed them between you both. It was tense… no, it felt too much like the warmth form long ago to be tense. You only wished the situation to be different.

“I love you.”

But you could only offer a bitter smile to his words. “I love my vision,” you replied. “I love the Kitsune Saiguu, and I love my friends.”

His touch was gentle when his fingers came to gently cradle your cheek. Holding your face dearly as he peered into your eyes, his were soft. Different from the cruelty he held within, the hatred that burned and destruction that seeked to explode.

You saw a little boy.

Your hand came to press his hand further against your cheek, till you slid his palm to your lips. He appeared so calm when you pressed the first kiss, lips tracing the lines along his palm with all the care in the world.

But you needed to change your view, see him as the man he now was. As the man he had become.

“I love you,” he repeated, and you let go of his hand. It fell limp by his side, cards all but forgotten. There was a much more pressing matter at hand, because you truly needed to see him as he was.

It was necessary if you planned to kill him.

[xgryffinwhore]

september nights

request:  i was wondering if you could write another soft bill smut? i don’t really have a specific plot in mind, we’re just really lacking content on tumblr rn :( in some really precarious place where they don’t want to get caught

warnings: soft smut, like i mean very soft.

word count: 2118

before your lips met bill denbrough’s, love was always, to say the least, a conundrum. lets be real for second, boys wasted your time, and you let them. only the cute ones of course. you are a hopeless romantic, drunk off of molly ringwald and john travolta films. you wanted any relationship you had to be just like the movies.

through your heart breaks, your best friends stood by you, your losers. eddie, richie, bev, stan, ben, and bill. for each tear you shed a punch was thrown to the man who caused it, they were protective over you. bill the most though, he always got so defensive when you were in the mix. all throughout middle & high school, bill has had to deal with every guy who even dares to think about breaking your heart.

“its not fair bill” you wailed into your pillow. he stroked your back and hushed you, his eyes welling with tears. “im never fucking good enough for any guy and its so fucking sad!” your complaints being cut off mid sentence by a choked out cry. “y-y/n. all of y-your boyfriend are i-idiots. anyone w-who would d-d-do this to you isnt w-worth your t-time. anyone w-would be the luckiest in the w-world to have y-you in their life” you picked your head up and looked at him with swollen lips and blood shot eyes “there no one out there for me bill, no one.” 

he bit his lip, fighting back any tears dripping from his eyes “they j-just dont see how p-pretty you are. how g-gentle and caring and s-s-sweet, and h-how your face c-can light up any room. theyre f-fucking idiots, and you d-deserve m-more.” you clearly thought he was being nice, because you could take a MOTHER FUCKING GOD DAMN hint, so you replied “i wish there was someone out there like you, for me, that thinks of me the way you do.” 

he furrowed his brows, tossing his head back and running his fingers furiously through his hair. “d-dammit y/n!” he cursed “cant you s-see what ive b-been trying to say? w-w-what ive been t-trying to say f-for the last f-five years!?!” your expression was bewildered, your brain was going a mile a minute trying to figure out what he meant. his frustration got the best of him, he got up and stormed out the door,  feeling embarrassed and stupid for trying to make you understand how he felt.

he was half way out your front door, fuming for his keys lodged deep into his front pocket; when suddenly:

“bill!”

his head turned at the call of his name, “y-y/n please i d-”

smack.

your lips locked with his, he rain pouring heavily outside. bills lips stilled at the contact, but this lasted briefly, he deepened this kiss by pulling you in to his abdomen by your mid back. your bunched the front of his base ball t shirt with your fists, and he did the same but with your hair.

the rest is basically history.

now six months later, and you couldnt have been happier. bill knew how to treat you, nights out twice a week (you always wanted to pay but bill insisted,) holding your hand to and from classes, he let you borrow have his varsity baseball jacket, which smelt just like him and was a little too big for you. 

when he would drop you off and your classes, he would always grab your hand and transfer a tiny piece of paper into your palm. when you got into class to unfold it, it was always a cute little message about his love for you. 

bill had it bad for you, everyone knew that, and you loved every minute of it. he met every and any standard you had, and exceeded your expectations. 

it was september, still warm enough in derry to wear shorts, so you and your friends thought of a last hurrah for the ending of the summery weather.

“camp out, its nearly perfect” Richie exclaimed. eddie rolled his eyes “like youve ever been near anything perfect toizer, do you even know what perfect means?” richie shoved eddie “yeah eddie i actually have. have you seen amanda’s tits?”

 you tuned out richie and eddies bickering as you’re boyfriend cleared his throat. “you g-gonna go?” he said into your ear, “only if you promise to wear bug spray bill, you know how bad-” he cut you off with a kiss, his mouth forming a small smile at how cute you were. “get a room, honestly” stan poked, pda wasn’t his favorite... “at least i h-have something to k-kiss aye s-stannie”

you arrived at the edge of the forest, parking your car at the last parking ish space. you walked toward the sounds of ben and richie fighting, and came to see that richie really went all out. three tents, sticks for a fire, and more snacks than anyone needed. 

you all spent the remanence of the daylight dancing in the light sky, sharing stories, and eating waaaay too many chips. it was dark now, you all huddled in a circle near the fire; making small talk and trying not to admit you were all very tired.

“ok folks, im off to bed” richie yawned “me stan eddie n’ mike will take the green tent, bev and ben in the red.” richie paused and smirked over at you and bill, you were tangled in his limbs, golfed in his navy blue pull over. “and uh- heh- billy boy and y/n in the yellow tent eh?” you could practically feel bills eye roll, god richie was so immature.

“w-we dont have to s-sleep in the s-s-same tent, i c-can ask ben if he’d s-switch” you look up at bill and reassure him “bill no- its not a big deal, right?” he tucks your hair behind your ear and kisses the side of your temple “c-course not.”

you both went into the tent, bill began to unroll the blankets you both had packed tightly into your bags. You both set up your makeshift bed, bill leaned against a pile of pillows while you hugged his side, your face buried in his neck. his smell was absolutely intoxicating; his skin had remanence of his milk and honey body wash, but it was slightly overpowered by wintergreen, clove, and his bourbon cologne. 

you were like this for around an hour, the orange crank-powered lantern being the only source of light. you switch positions though, you now laid your head on his lap, reading a magazine you stole from the hair salon. he watched your eyes scan every letter, when you read something funny you’d huff to yourself, and when something was intresting you stuck your tongue out from between your teeth. he adored you.

“d-dont stay up t-too late” he stroked your hair off your shoulder “we have t-to have you w-well r-r-rested.” you sat up from beside him, as he adjusted the pillows and took off his pull over, then his pants. he got under the covers and waited for you.

“nice donut boxers” you laughed. “s-shut up” he blushed and regreted not changing them when he had the chance. you turned around took off your shirt, you were shy about how you looked, but it was just bill. it was just bill. you heard his breath hitch, his eagerness radiating off his body onto yours. the air became tense as you unzipped your pants and threw them to the corner. you turned around, bills pupils growing until you were completely facing him.

“yeah i know. mine are boring” you laugh nervously, brushing your hair behind your ear and getting under the covers next to him. he didnt respond, he couldnt take his eyes off of you.you began to sit up again “i can go put back on-” “n-no!” he interrupts, his blush taking up his entire face.

“i j-j-just cant b-believe i g-get to see something s-so special” he gulped “s-so b-b-b-beautiful.”

you grabbed him by his shoulders and kissed him, hard. youve been with boys before, i mean youve dated plenty of people. but no one ever called your body special. hot, yeah. nice, yeah. beautiful, sure. but no one ever thought that it was special. 

bill was a kind boy, the most you two have ever done is get each other off with your hands, always clothed. bill never asked to see more, he felt lucky enough just to make you feel good, and that was enough for him. so when you felt the heat of his hands hovering over your body but not touching it, you new you’d have to call the shots tonight.

“bill,” you laid down “just touch me everywhere, please.” he crawled in between your legs, kneeling so that he could lean over your face “m-my pleasure.”

he traced your collar, leaving small, delicate, kisses to make up for what his fingers left behind as they trailed. he kissed the valley between your breasts, licking slow striped down your skin. he picked up your upper back a little and cocked his head to the side, you nodded and he unclipped your bra. he sat their with his mouth open, taking in the view. you blushed and muttered “hey, keep that mouth to good use.” he dipped down and sucked on your nipples, his mouth felt so good against your skin grazed with goosebumps. he was gingerly with his tongue, it was sexy, it was romantic. he kissed down your stomach, his fingers sweeping down your sides. you could see his member pressing against his boxers, the pressure made him wince every once in a while. his fingers met your panties and he hooked them. again, he looked up for permission, you nodded once again. 

he brought your underwear down your legs and off, looking back to see what he had relieved. he licked his lips, getting ready to please you more than he already did. but you felt bad, bill always gave gave and gave. “its ok, im ready right now.” bill looked up at you in shock, he wasnt expecting you’d want to go all the way. “y/n, y-youre sure?” you lean up and kiss his lips, swiping your tongue against his bottom lip “please.”

he pulled down his boxers eagerly, his member sprung out to hit his stomach. he lined up with you, checking once more that it was ok. then he pushed in, bottoming out. he felt bigger than you thought, of course he was well endowed, but he filled you up so well. you mewled, the pain and pleasure making a delicious feeling that made your toes curl.

he waited, but began slowly moving after a bit. he grunted, feeling you wrapped around him was something he’d never be able to get out of his head he thought to himself. he grunted “f-fuck this feels g-good’ he grunted, his breath becoming heavy and full of lust. with every stroke, you felt yourself get more and more lost in the bliss he made you feel. “youre making me feel so good  bill” you moan, the sound of his name coming out of your mouth driving him absolutely crazy. he speeds up, loving the view of your face contorting in pleasure and your body moving with his. 

he couldnt help but feel admiration to you, your hair formed a halo around your head, and the sweat that coated your skin made you glisten in the orange light. “im t-the luckiest in the world” he husks, holding your cheek. 

you felt the knot in your core coming undone, “bill im close” you strain, trying not to be too loud so you dont wake your friends. he moved your leg up to his shoulder, hitting you from a different, deeper angle. his fingers went to your clit, making you bite your had to stop you from screaming. “you l-look so p-pretty y/n, t-taking me s-so well. making y-you feel so good.” “so good bill” you repeat, drunken off his cock and fingers. 

without warning, you came came, your legs spazzing as you moaned “fuck bill” he followed, his hips stuttering, as he cried out into your shoulder. he pulled out and laid next to you, both of you breathing heavily and coming off your highs. 

“y/n” he looked at you “t-that was really j-just wow- thank y-you.” you kissed him, chaste and sweet “that was great yeah?” “it w-was perfect babe. t-thank you f-for t-that. i love you y-y/n.”

“i love you too bill.”

he sat up, his fingers dancing on your inner thigh.

“y/n?”

“yeah?”

“c-can we p-please do t-that again?”

[thefanficmonster]

Interesting Encounters

Corpse Husband *& Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Paranoia and Fear of Invasion of Privacy

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Corpse has an interesting run-in with his regular delivery girl, having the chance to talk to her for the first time despite her having been delivering to his door for months. It’s a big step in overcoming his anxiety and paranoia when talking to strangers.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! Hope you come across the final product of your request and give it a read and if so I hope you like it! Sorry for the wait, I hope it was worth it though! Love, Vy ❤

It’s a regular Monday morning, close to 10AM and Corpse’s face is practically glued to the sound editing app he’s downloaded, playing around with some cool effects to add to his voice in the background of the new song he’s been working on. He hasn’t been able to sleep a wink thanks to the immense excitement, not that he would’ve been able to regardless, but the tune and the lines have been stuck in his head all throughout the weekend and he knows they’ll be bothering him until he turns them into something other people will be able to listen and give an opinion on as well. So far he’s done plenty of work but there’s plenty more to go until it’s done. He’s at that point he usually needs feedback and wants to ask for it but would rather not to avoid either too harsh judgement or fake praise.

He slides the headset off, deciding to take a break for the sake of his sanity before he drives himself to insanity with the intensity of his focus on this new piece. His brain just so conveniently sends him a reminder that his groceries are probably waiting for him outside the door. He has, as of the last half a year or so, had someone deliver his groceries to him to avoid trips to the grocery store with both the whole pandemic situation and the growth of following which translates to growth of the risk of him getting recognized. That’s the main reason - and maybe the only one - as to why he doesn’t interact with the people who deliver to him either. He always gives his delivery person the instruction to leave whatever he’s ordered at the doorstep and if it’s not takeout to not even ring the doorbell. 

That being said, the deliverer of his groceries doesn’t ring the doorbell to give him the kind reminder to be responsible, but luckily he hasn’t forgotten to collect them yet in the six months he’s been practicing this delivery technique.

Going to the front door and looking out of the peephole, he confirms there are several full plastic bags waiting to be picked up on the mat. With the person who brought them not in sight, Corpse unlocks the door and steps out to bring in the groceries for the week. Taking them to the kitchen, he unpacks the goods in the three bags. At first glance he would’ve been fooled, seeing as how it seems that all he has ordered is there. But, each Monday, he receives exactly four bags of groceries. One is missing. He rolls his eyes thinking he didn’t see it outside and left it there while he was hurriedly collecting the rest so he gets up to go grab it real quick.

While in the meantime...

Y/N looks through the remainder of bags in her minivan, making a route in her head for what roads and shortcuts she can take to deliver the last of the groceries to the respective homes they need to be taken to. Upon looking through them, however, she sees a bag labeled ‘MM’ that she uses short for ‘Mystery Man’, aka the guy who never opens the door to greet her whenever she delivers him anything. She works for several delivery services such as takeout, groceries, clothes even and has delivered to that apartment hundreds of times but has never met the resident, giving her the right to call him Mystery Man, aka ‘MM’.

“Ah, shit.“ She mumbles under her breath, realizing she failed to grab the fourth bag when on her way up to MM’s apartment.

Coming to terms with the fact that she’ll have to lose another five minutes going back up to his floor, she grabs the bag and takes off running back inside the building and up the stairs, deciding it would be quicker than taking the elevator.

Just as she arrives to the floor, heading straight for the door, it opens, freezing her in her tracks as her eyebrows shoot up.  At the doorstep stands a guy with an eye patch who looks more surprised and maybe even a little terrified than her. Taking in that Mystery Man is not such a mystery anymore, she returns to her professionalism, remaining at a distance and outstretching the hand holding the bag towards him.

“Sorry, forgot to drop this one off as well, I’m a bit all over the place today.“ She says in her most professional voice.

Corpse too regains his composure and takes the handed bag from Y/N gloved hand. Before he can think twice about it he says, “Thanks, uh...”

“Y/N.“ She says, “I’ve delivered to you countless times, it’s funny you don’t know my name but it’s to be expected since I’ve never seen you. This would be a good time to tell me your name so I don’t have to call you Mystery Man anymore.“ She laughs, cutting her own laughter off barely a second later when she realizes what she’s said, “Oh, fucking shit...”

Corpse chuckles, clear amusement in the sound, “Mystery Man? Interesting, interesting. If I ever become a superhero I’ll make sure to pick that name.” He fails to even pay mind to the fact that he’s spoken a lot more than he’d usually feel comfortable with.

Y/N laughs a little awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck, “Yeah, sorry about that. I promise to come up with a better one if you’re not willing to tell me your real one. Like....Pirate, for example?” she suggests, raising her shoulders.

He can’t help but let out a laugh, “You’d be surprised, but my name is not so far from your mark. It’s, um....” He’s not looking forward to the judgmental look or the questions he might receive in response to his statement but he succumbs to the expected disappointment, “My name’s Corpse.”

Surprisingly, she just smiles - a smile he cannot see due to the surgical mask she’s wearing but the crinkle at the corners of her eyes gives it away. “Cool! Well, I better get going then.”

Just as she turns to head for the elevator this time, seeing as she’s still out of breath from the run up the stairs, Corpse gets an idea he’d probably not be too fond of if he gave himself time to think it over. Which is exactly why he didn’t.

“Hey!“ He calls after her, gaining her attention immediately, causing her to turn around, “You got a minute? I need a little help with something...“

Y/N’s eyebrows raise a little, a moment before she shrugs her shoulders, “Meh, I’m already behind schedule, what’s an extra minute gonna do?” And just like that, they strut their way back towards his apartment.

He can’t help but chuckle, taking the opportunity to crack a joke, “This is how people often get killed. You don’t just walk into a stranger’s apartment like that.”

She scoffs as she passes the threshold, “Believe it or not, you can learn a lot about a person based on the groceries they buy. And trust me buddy, you’re not a murderer.” Earning herself a laugh and a nod with that remark, she continues, “You do appear to be an artist with all the cheap food you’re buying though.”

Corpse laughs yet again, a hint of nervousness is sensed in his laugh this time around though, “Yeah, well, I don’t know if you’re still gonna call me an artist when you hear this song I’ve been working on. Not even out of the box yet.”

Y/N stops in her tracks, “Well, well, well, aren’t I honored to be one of the lucky people hearing this before its release.”

“The first hearing it before its release.“ He corrects her with a pointed look, not missing the excitement that arose in her eyes.

“Let’s hear it then!“

Of all the friendship stories that exist, no one can say this ain’t a unique one.

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[raebayhc]

Girls Night Out

warnings: implied virgin, fingering, lesbian implied, bi implied, public sex, smut, fluff, angst

word count: 2164

summary: you along with your groups of friends decide to have a girls' night for the first time in a while, things get heated and your friends end up taking turns using your body.

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It was a Thursday night and you along with the other ladies who went to the same college as you decided to go out and have a girls’ night. Yall planned on going to see a movie, going out for drinks, then finally retiring to Sasha’s barn where yall planned to stay up late telling spooky stories trying to freak one another out. Normally you wouldn’t agree to something like this because socially you were a lost cause, you had many friends and were very close to them. However, when it came to hanging out in large groups and even going out in public with the group, that’s when you started to get anxious. Your friends always had your back though and you knew that. Ultimately you decide not to fret too much and just have fun.

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It was the beginning of a very long night, you and pieck were roommates so yall got ready at the same time and left together to meet everyone else at the theatre. On the ride there pieck looked over to you and broke the silence- “if it becomes too much just let me know, I’m good to go home anytime.. Okay darling?” she patted your thigh and you nodded waiting for her warm hand to leave its place. It never did. She kept her hand on your thigh occasionally tapping to the beat of the music she turned on after yall briefly spoke. You felt your cheeks begin to warm as you peered out the window. Nobody within the group of friends knew you swung that way you wouldn’t dare tell them fearing the absolute worst. You knew they would love you no matter what and you never thought they would say anything hurtful but you still kept your little secret to yourself.

Piecks hand remained on you the whole car ride to the theatre. When yall arrived you hopped out of the car with intent... That intent being getting away from under piecks touch as you know you wouldn’t be able to hide your heavy breath for much longer. You played it off as getting “all excited” about seeing the movie when you really just wanted to escape. You waited as pieck slowly gathered her items and met you outside the car, yall then proceeded to walk through the glass doors into the theatre where the rest of the girls were already waiting.

“Yo what took yall so long??” Sasha said while stuffing her face full of popcorn. “Yeah, we thought we were gonna miss the movie because of you two” Ymir followed, whilst rolling her eyes. You look around to check everyone out, Historia and Ymir were clinging together, as usual, Sasha and Mikasa playing “hot hands” in the corner. You laughed as Mikasa gagged after Sasha got butter all over her hands. Pieck walked off to go meet hitch at the counter to get some candy. You giggled to yourself and told the girls that the movie was going to start soon and yall should probably head to yalls seats.

Finally, in yalls seats waiting for the movie to begin, you were sat between Sasha and Mikasa. You were definitely closer to these two than you were anyone else. Yall had been a trio since fourth grade and nothing could ever split yall apart. Nothing. All of the ladies were quite touchy with each other, it was all platonic of course. Why wouldn’t it be? Sasha snatched your right hand and hugged your shoulder burying her nose in the crook on your neck as a monster popped out at the screen. “Why would you choose a horror movie when you can't handle them” you whispered to Sasha to which she replied “because I like the way it makes me feel y/n, I get all tingly and itchy” you rolled your eyes holding back a chuckle so you wouldn’t disturb the others during the quiet scene.

You felt a slight tug at your left hand as Mikasa habitually grabs your hand. She tends to do that when she has nothing to do with her hands, it “helps her stay focused” she has explained to you a million times. Between Sashas breath on your neck and Mikasa drawing circles on your hand with her index you couldn’t help but squirm. You go to whisper something about the movie to Mikasa when she goes to do the same, your faces come within an inch of each other, noses barely touching you feel her breath out her nose as it fans across your lips. Your face turns bright pink as you halt in surprise. “I wanted to point out that actor….. Since we’ve spoken about them before…” she spoke softly. You replied with a small “me too…”. Yall have yet to part until you are broken up by screams as the movie takes a turn and Sasha yanks your arm “AHHHHH Y/N HELP!!!!!” Sasha screams in a high-pitched tone. You turn breaking your eye contact with Mikasa “Sasha! Be quiet we arent the only ones here!” you jab at her as you apologetically smile at the others in the theatre. You momentarily forgot about the moment you and Mikasa had until she takes her hand and places it on the back of your neck. Thumb swiping up and down, she pulls you a bit closer to whisper “awfully close weren’t we…” she lets that sentence linger before playfully giggling and removing her hand from your nape.

The movie was finally over and you were one of the last to leave your seat, since you decided to pick up all the popcorn Sasha had dropped after one of the jumpscares, you stand up, lifting your arms towards the ceiling, stretching and letting out a soft moan. You felt hands slither from the small of your back to the front of your hips “wow y/n, you have a hot moan. Whoever sleeps with you must be lucky” Ymir says before shifting you to the side to make way for her and historia. “Ugh, Ymir how many times do I have to tell you it’s not ladylike to talk about such things so casually” “I know I know I’m sorry... But it had to be pointed out” Ymir shrugged “she does have a point y/n.. You have an attractive voice it makes sense your moans would be..” historia pitches in and she looks you up and down before continuing “h o t” she lingers on the t a bit before moving on. You could feel your arousal pooling. The ladies seem different tonight... Maybe it’s just you... Maybe it’s not... They walk out and you follow suit.

You decide to ride with hitch since yall haven’t spoken a lot tonight, you ask her about life and she goes on to rant about her boyfriend noting that he’s not good in bed and she hates his haircut, she finishes her rant off with “ugh maybe I should just switch to girls! You’d date me right y/n?” you pause for a moment then reply with a simple “who wouldn’t!” a simple sentence yet complex at the same time. She turns to you and examines your face “you know I think id be a top if I were with a girl… in fact, you’d make a perfect bottom for me..” her eyes linger a bit too long, your skin crawling whilst illuminated by the red light yall were stopped at. It flashes green and her eyes return to the road “of course if I was single and into girls hahaha” she plays it off.

Yall arrive at the bar shortly after Sasha and Mikasa who had taken the same car and followed by Ymir who carpooled with historia. Mikasa and Sahsa hand out everyone’s paper wristbands, Sasha stops in front of you takes your hand, and putting it on for you. She didn’t do it for anyone else… just you. You decided you were overthinking and you moved on, walking into the club you were bombarded with loud music busybodies and the smell of alcohol. You were stressed, so many people, so many noises, so many smells. It was overwhelming, to say the least. Pieck noticed your uneasiness and placed her hand on the small of your back, she led you to a dark hallway filled with heavy pheromones and kissing partners, past that was a bathroom to which she leads you, pushed you in, followed after you, and locked the door. “Wh-” pieck covered your mouth with a single finger, “I noticed your stress, we can leave if you need y/n” a look of sorrow on her face. “No I’m fine it was just a lot at once I’m sorry, I’m okay now” you push out with a soft smile. Her body moving closer to you she wraps an arm around you pulling you closer “baby… tell me if you need anything, mmkay?” she purrs into your neck giving it a soft peck. Your arousal beginning to pool again you squeeze your thighs.

She excuses herself letting you go and leaving the bathroom. Turning around to face the mirror you scold yourself for acting the way you are when your friends are just being nice, they’d probably feel so grossed out if they knew your cunt was getting all nice and soaked for them, you thought. “Maybe I just need to relieve some stress… yeah that's all it is… built-up stress…” you hiked up the mini skirt that you decided to wear today above your hips and you pulled your new pink lace panties to the side. Beginning to slide your fingers over your unclothed clit the door rattles “hey bear, pieck said you weren’t feeling well so I brought you a dri-” historias sentence is cut short when she looks up to see you sitting on the counter sprawled open like a book. “I’m so so-” you begin before she hurriedly shuts and locks the door behind her.

“I- i- can explain-” she cuts you off before you get a chance to explain “oh bear..” a slight purr in her voice “who knew you had such a perfect pussy?.. All this time you’ve been hiding it from me?” she pouts, you’ve never seen her act this way much less talk this way before. Shocked by her actions you freeze, she steps closer and peers up into your eyes, lifting a hand to show she has her pinky and index slightly bent, she speaks “..may I?” if this was any other night you would freak out, apologize, get dressed quickly and leave, but for some reason you cant. “Please do” a slight whininess in your voice. Taking her ring and middle finger she traces a line from your entrance to your clit making you twitch once she reaches the small bud. She chuckles a bit and continues, pushing her middle finger into you, slowly but surely, you lay your head back resting it on the mirror. A low groan leaves her throat as you tighten around her finger “y/n… can I ask you a question? Hmm?” “nghh yes” you manage to push out through cries and moans. “You’re a virgin aren’t you, bear? Nobody has ever touched this perfect little body. Nobody has ever stuck their fingers in you either, huh?” you nod trying to keep sane while her pace quickens, you squint your eyes shut forcing tears out and down the sides of your face. Your response influenced her as she moved faster prodding another finger at your entrance and pushing it in with her other. “Ahh fuck ‘ri’” RI was a name you’ve called her since yall first met, originally made because you couldn’t remember her full name but it kind of just stuck throughout the years. “I’m gonna- I think I’m g-” cut off by the feeling of her warm tongue prodding your clit, dangerously licking and lapping, boy did she know how to please, and that she did. “RI oh shit” you grab a fistful of her hair as your orgasm hits, continuing to finger fuck you and lightly lick your sensitive bud she helps you ride out your high. “..- first, right?” you couldn’t make out what she said through your hazy mindset “what RI?” she repeats “I was your first, right??” you nod with lazy eyes, she smiles a big smile then gives you a sloppy kiss, you groan into her lips.

She cleans you up then helps you off the counter. Now realizing what had just happened you panic pushing out a quick “oh my goodness ri I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to put you in that position” she chuckles “don’t worry bear there are plenty of other positions I plan to have you in” before you could really digest that she tugs at your wrist leading you out to the main hallway and back to your groups of friends. The night has only begun….

THE END Pt. 1

this is my first fanfic ever so I'm sorry if it's bad!! I will continue to improve trust me! also, this will be a multi-part series so stay updated!

[cagedcroww]

hey its the himbo requester again lol. was wondering if u could do himbo PC again but being corrupted by sydney?? like,, sydney was pure but PC started to indirectly corrupt him so now c!sydney is secretly lusting after and sluttifying PC?? perhaps some noncon too? im case u cant tell i have a himbo kink lol

(ALSO I LOVED THE HIMBO PC WITH KYLAR IT WAS PERFECT TYSM)

((OH BOY I LOVED WRITING IT SO HERE YOU GO PART 2 KINDA. as always, the rest is below the cut, this got super fucking long sorry lol))

TW: noncon/dubcon, uhhh biting ig?? light light stuff, das abt it mostly

You liked hanging out with your friend Sydney! He's not quite as boisterous as you, but you find his quiet calm to be a nice contrast to your own sunny energy. You had first stumbled across him in the library, and you decided to spend your free time outside of class to hang out with the soft-spoken boy. You would even call him a pretty good friend! Just as you hang around the too-silent library for him, he also does cool things for you! Like when you convinced him to skip his volunteering work at the temple to go clothes-shopping with you.

That's the thing with friendships! It goes both ways. You get him contacts, convince him to let his hair down (both figuratively and literally), and jokingly flirt with him just to watch his face flush. In return, he helps you with school work that you can't wrap your head around, he keeps you company, and once in a while, he shoots you a smile that makes you feel like the sun in the sky.

if you were a little more observant, you would've noticed the way his smile has a little more of a crooked tilt now; if you were more observant, you would've noticed the way Sirris frowns at you and tries to shield you from his child as though you were a bad influence; if you were more observant, you would've noticed how the library is empty now, its doors already locked as Sydney works through his closing rounds.

However, you've always been too trusting of the people in your life, so you notice nothing, just doodling away on your page as you wait for your friend to finish up. You never even thought about him as a threat. Not gentle Sydney who doesn't retaliate even as bullies crush his glasses under his heel, not sweet Sydney who stays up to tutor you even when his eyelids can't help but flutter shut from exhaustion, not weak Sydney who seems so much smaller than you, who seems like he needs your protection.

So when you feel an unexpected touch against your skin, your first thought is to giggle, thinking that the library monitor has finally finished his work. He's gotten a lot touchier since you started talking to him, and you feel warm knowing that he finally feels safe enough around you to be as affectionate as he wants.

That fluttering warmth turns into searing confusion as the same touch continues to trail across your form. You finally look up to see Sydney's same gentle eyes, no longer hidden by his thick glasses frames. Something new lurks in his gaze, and you don't know how to feel.

His fingers brush against the fabric of your shirt, his palm cupping the hard lines of your strong pecs. Ice fills your body, and you can't move. This is your friend Sydney, pure Sydney who loves the temple and his faith and he couldn't possibly be doing this to you. Though you want to move, though you want to shove him away and run until you have space to think about what's happening, you still can't bring yourself to lay a hand on the soft nerdy boy who was always a comforting presence at your side.

His dextrous fingers, once used for filing away books, now slowly unbutton your uniform shirt. As white fabric falls from your body, your flesh is revealed to your friend's hungry eyes. You were never ashamed of your body; you had shown the same skin in front of Sydney before, in fact. You had brought him to the beach once, so you could convince him to have a day of summer fun. Yet now, you feel utterly naked under his gaze.

"You're so handsome." The voice is still Sydney's, soft-spoken and clear in each of his words. Your hopes of this being some horrible imposter shatter. His hands come up to grope at your muscles again, and you tense, head still spinning with confusion and emotions you can't even name.

Slowly, his hands trail down, fingers tracing the lines and contours of your abs until he stops at the waistband of your school pants. You remember he sold them to you when you had done something dumb and completely shredded your previous pair. It seems ironic that he's the one taking them off you now. When he cups your groin, you realize with a flush that you're obviously aroused. He seems to feel it too, judging by the smile that crosses his face. It's still the same smile that rounds his cheeks with joy, and you can't help but relax at the sight.

"You want this, don't you?" His gaze is piercing against yours. He was always so much smarter than you, and you find yourself believing his words. "You had tempted me, and I Fell for you. I had kept waiting for you, and you only ever teased."

His voice is huskier now, deepened with lust and yet still as eloquent as ever. He wants something from you, but you don't understand what. Sydney seems to see the confusion in your eyes, and he softens just slightly, your genial stupidity as endearing to him now as ever.

"Ask me for it. I want you to beg me. I want you to feel it. The craving, the want that will rot you from the inside out. I want to ruin you like how you ruined me."

Oh.

At his words, you realize that the roiling feeling in your chest is... desire. Despite your fear, despite your confusion, despite your hesitation, you still feel heat warming your flesh and stirring your blood.

You want it. Sydney has always been the smarter one between the two of you, and even now, he still knows you better than you know yourself.

When you mumble out a plea, you feel his soft lips press against your cheek. Despite the situation, the reward of such gentle affection brings a blush to your cheek.

Deft fingers begin to undo your trousers, pulling them down and freeing your arousal to the world. The cold air of the library meets your warmth and you gasp at the sensation, hips weakly bucking in search of even that tiny bit of stimulation.

Sydney circles around to your front now, his own obvious lust pressing against the front of his pants. In one smooth movement, he straddles your lap, his eyes locked onto your lust-reddened face. He too unbuttons his trousers, freeing his cock from its fabric.

"You know, I had a chastity belt on when I met you." His implication is obvious, even to someone like you. It was you who did this to him. Whose goading jokes made him turn against his faith to give himself to you.

You meet his eyes, whimpering from the back of your throat as you try to rut yourself against him. However, though you're strong, you are still not quite strong enough to push back against Sydney's entire weight holding you down.

He whispers some gentle assurances, though your brain is too fevered with lust to hear the words wrapped in his comforting tone. However, soon enough, you feel the head of his arousal press against your entrance. You arch and beg, desperate to take him inside of you, desperate for anything that can quench the fire in your core.

Sydney kisses you the same moment he pushes into your depths. The moment would be gentle and romantic if not for the circumstances around this tryst, and if you weren't far too gone to appreciate it.

Sydney's movements are slow as he rocks into you, his new corrupted state as still caring for you in his own unique way. Your hips move with animal instinct, drawing him deeper and deeper into yourself as you chase the spark of pleasure that lights your body aflame with each one of his movements. The rest of the world fades away until it is just you and Sydney and the lust heating your skin.

Both of your movements are sloppy and inexact, but where experience is lacking, the two of you make up for it with enthusiasm. Your hands curl on his hips as you bring him deeper and deeper into you, a fucked-out squeak escaping your lips each time he presses against that special spot that makes your vision white out with pleasure.

Sydney nuzzles into your neck, muttering something under his breath as his own face flushes with his mounting lust and exertion. If you were listening closely, you might've guessed that it was a prayer to you, as though you were the most divine thing in his life. His words are stuttered between sucking hickeys onto your skin and hitched gasps each time your walls clench down around him, but he babbles out his desire for you nonetheless.

When you feel the rubber band of arousal within you begin to tighten with tension, you arch and squirm beneath Sydney's form, trying to chase the high of relief that seems so close. He seems to sense it too, for he begins to speed up, interspersing his kisses with light bites that mar your flesh and send waves of pinprick painpleasure through your body.

Your moans mix with his whines, and finally, you cum, your back arching and cheeks shining with tears you didn't even realize you shed. The feeling of your spasms around him is too much for Sydney, and he too climaxes, sending wave after wave of warmth deep inside of you.

When he collapses against you, his uniform sticking to your sweat-sheened skin. A tide of emotions sweeps through your now-unclouded mind. Fear, confusion, hesitation, you've felt them all not moments before, but now, you feel something else join their ranks. Something you're almost afraid to label as desire.

[druigswhores]

fluff prompts 10 & 19 with pietro maximoff would be so cute 🥺

elevator talk

summary: while on a mission with the avengers team you manage to save pietro’s life leading him to want to show his appreciation for you inspired by this prompt list

content warning: pietro maximoff x fem!reader, fluff, slight angst, mentions of blood, set after age of ultron but pietro never dies and civil war doesn’t take place <3

note: i hope i don’t disappoint you with this fluff! i’ve been reading more quicksilver comics recently and this is the outcome of that :)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN! (lmk if you want to see anymore content like this <3)

masterlist

"Remind me again, why did the ENTIRE team need to come on this mission?" You complained, fighting off two grown men while waiting for the signal Tony was supposed to give to tell you it's safe to go inside the building.

"Call it a group bonding session." Tony teased while flying near the building in his Iron Man suit, trying to figure out how to lower the shields. Ever since the fall of SHIELD, it became even more difficult to find the remaining Hydra bases and due to the Ultron situation that occurred a few years ago, the difficulty only increased.

"Could we do a little less chitchat and a little more fighting?" Steve demands, you could hear Cap's grunts through your earpiece, making it obvious that he's struggling to fight off the Hydra goons.

You were a couple miles away from the building attempting to make your way closer to it, the enemies clearly noticed your arrival when they saw a person in red and yellow suit flying pass their windows, easily recognising the well known Iron Man.

And because a huge green angry Hulk isn't exactly easy to ignore.

"Clearly Cap can't keep up with us superheroes." Pietro teased, with a blink of an eye he knocked out the enemies surrounding both you and Steve.

"Thanks for the help Sonic, I'd give you some onion rings but I don't have any on me right now." You joked, smirking at the exasperated speedster that stood in front of you.

"I just saved your life and this is how you repay me Prinţesă?" He feigned hurt, placing his hand over heart.

"Saving her life? That's a bit of an exaggeration even for you Piet." Wanda's voice was heard from the comms, she managed to make her way into the building effortlessly, fighting beside Vision.

"Mind your business Wanda." Pietro scoffs biting back the smile forming on his face, he could hear his sisters laugh through the earpiece.

"As much as I love hearing the two of you argue with each other, now may not be the time." Natasha commented, followed by Clint agreeing.

You sighed, knowing they were right, focusing on the mission instead of the twin in front of you, glancing around at your surroundings. You noticed the enemies lined up behind Pietro preparing for an attack. You would've seen it earlier if it wasn't for the conversation distracting you.

You thought it was too late when you saw the bullet fly through the air, aiming directly at Pietro, it felt as though it was moving in slow motion. The piece of metal cutting through the air making its way to the speedster. Not registering the fact that Pietro had super healing abilities your mind recalled what happened in Sokovia. The bullets going through Pietro in every angle possible. Him falling onto the ground, the colour drained from his face, everyone thought he was dead, Wanda included. That was until the speedster managed to spit out a joke about Ultron's good aim.

You didn't register what you were doing until after you did it. Rushing to protect him from the bullet you pushed him out of the way last minute, the bullet barely missed him, you felt the bullet scrape against your arm instead. Pietro fell to the ground with a yelp as you fell on top of him, wincing due to the pain the bullet caused you.

Steve ran over to the two of you after knocking out the culprit.

"They're both down." Steve states, Pietro shakes his head, attempting to sit up, lifting you up and placing you in his lap comfortably.

"Why'd you do that? You know I can take bullets right?" Pietro scowled, glancing over your body to check for anymore injuries besides the bullet wound, his hands were gentle, brushing over your body in a caring manner as he lets the palm of his hands rest on the sides of your face, holding your face in his hands.

"Now i saved your life." You joked, blushing at the position the two of you were currently in and trying to hide the pain the bullet was causing you. You weren't a super soldier or someone with super healing abilities, so jumping in front of a bullet to save someone that could survive getting shot multiple times wasn't smart thinking on your part.

But you couldn't help it.

You wouldn't say you and Pietro were best friends, you did get along well but the twin refrained from getting close to any of the avengers. Your relationship consisted of teasing each other often and bumping into each other constantly during midnight, resulting in the two of you having your own midnight sessions where the two of you sat in the kitchen drinking hot chocolate.

You reminisced on the last time you had your 'midnight session' with Pietro, not being able to focus on what Pietro and Steve were saying to you, there was a loud ringing in your head, echoing as you closed your eyes to stop the headache that was forming, you felt yourself being lifted up in someone's arms.

Maybe you underestimated how bad the bullet wound was.

"Fine weather we're having don't you think?" You laughed, glancing over at the window, the heavy rain pelted against the glass of the compound, that alongside the wind that sounded much louder in your bedroom made it difficult to even attempt to sleep. You could just barely make out the trees in the distance due to the night sky.

"Didn't think you'd show up tonight, don't you need the sleep before our mission tomorrow?" Pietro questioned. He was facing the stove, you could smell the hot chocolate that was heating up. You made your way next to him, grabbing two mugs and placing them next to him before moving to the fridge to grab the whipped cream.

You swapped positions with Pietro, passing the can of whipped cream to him and grabbing the spoon that was used to stir the hot chocolate.

"Oh wait! I made cookies today, we could have them now!" You remembered, grabbing the plate of cookies from the cupboard and placing it on the table, Pietro immediately reached out for one, and then another.

"I don't know if you know this yet but, I love you." Pietro confesses, grabbing another cookie. You pushed the plate away from him before he could grab another.

"You gotta slow down Piet, don't want you emptying the plate before we even get to have the hot chocolate, now do we?" You grinned and he complains, reaching out for another.

"It's nice to know you care so much about my well-being dragă." You rolled your eyes at the smirk plastered on his face. With the blink of an eye he was stood across from you, closer to the plate of cookies, with another in his hand.

The two of you couldn't stop the smiles that formed on your face, even going to bed in a much better mood than you were in previously.

It was hours after the mission, you were patched up as soon as the quinjet landed at the compound. After a long lecture from Steve and the debriefing, you were finally able to be alone, only wanting to go back your room and sleep for days.

You made your way to the elevator that would take you to your floor, too tired to take the stairs. You attempted to fight back the tiredness, blinking harshly to keep yourself awake, missing the blue streak of a superhero making its way into the elevator and right beside you.

"How are you feeling Dragă mea?" Pietro speaks out after a couple moments, you jumped in shock not realising the speedster was next to you.

"Dammit Piet! What did I say about doing that?" You held your hands over your chest, frightened. He looked at you apologetically before moving to the elevator buttons, pressing the button that stops the elevator from moving.

You stared at him as he sighed, struggling to put his thoughts into words.

"Piet... what's wrong?" You whispered, analysing his face and posture, you could tell he was stressed. He turned to look at you, his face softening when your eyes met.

"I can’t lose you prinţesă." He manages to say, making his way to you, reaching out for your hand.

His hand was warm in yours, he held onto your hand tightly, you looked at him confused, raising your hand to rest against his jaw, your thumb stroking his cheek gently.

“You’re not going to lose me, where’s this coming from Pietro?” You asked softly. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest, your head rested against his chest. You could feel his uneven breaths, almost as if he’s on the verge of having a panic attack. Pietro struggled to even out his breath, panic bubbling up inside of him, he can’t lose you. Even the thought of losing you filled him with dread, he doesn’t deserve someone to risk their life for him, especially someone like you.

“How did I manage to get you?” He finally whispers, pulling back to look at you.

That’s when you understood what he was trying to say.

“I don’t want to lose you too, you know? Even the thought of it, it just-” You take a deep breath, smiling solemnly at him. “Every-time we go on a mission I’m terrified Piet, after what happened in Sokovia- after what happened to you. I cant lose you, I care too much about you.” The memories of what happened in Sokovia haunted you. You weren’t close to the Maximoffs then but you understood them, you understood their pain and loss. Similarly to them you had no one, no family, no one to say ‘I love you’ too.

Until now.

“That’s a very complicated way to say you love me, dragă.” He teased, you could see the redness in his eyes from the tears that were threatening to spill.

“Well no one else enjoys my baking as much as you do.” He rolled his eyes in response knowing your referencing the night before, while still holding you in his arms, he reaches out to turn the elevator back on.

No more words were needed to be said, not for now at least. You had each other, and that’s all that mattered to you, for now.

[cdroloisms]

hey pspsps i found this thing n twitter and i cant get it out of my head,, so dreams escape right? and sapnap said that he'd be the one who'd take dreams last life rgiht? so imagine if he gets ant, bad and george and tells them "its the final manhunt" (:

im ngl the name of this on my document was “the final manhunt *offkey kazoo*” 

with that, have some good ol’ post-prison c!dream angst! probably not exactly what you asked for, but i hope you like it anyway :D 

tw: implied torture, abuse, dark portrayals of c!sam and c!quackity, suicide/suicide implications, panic attacks, emotional distress, emotional instability, death threats, violence, flashbacks, pandora’s vault/prison arc

When Dream escapes the prison, he is a frothing thing of spite and rage, one part human and ninety-nine parts determination simmered and condensed over high heat; there is anger and then there’s this, the fire that leaps to his eyes and the shaking shreds of a battered heart he holds close to his chest and refuses to let anyone close enough to see. He moves and the server moves with him, tugged along by his iron will and sweat-slick desperation, joining in the brilliant blue whirl of a diamond axe swung recklessly and slammed into the dirt, an aimless fury following each formless drive of the blade into grass and gravel. The air sings danger and the air sings wrong and every step closer brings a ringing scream of away away go away that dances like static electricity against their skin.

Puffy follows, cutlass strapped to her hip and hair tucked messily beneath the rim of her cornet as the group advances - someone had alerted over comms about seeing the escaped prisoner in this direction, and they’d all jumped forward in the hopes that the weeks-long manhunt could finally be ended. Sapnap leads the way, headband whipping behind him as he strides forward, jaw clenched in fierce determination; George brings up the rear, bow in hand, a full quiver of arrows strapped to his back. Puffy’s running alongside Sam, who has been strangely tight-lipped the entire time Dream has been gone, firm in his insistence that the prisoner be detained but saying little else - it’s something that she would pry at, usually, but her head is filled with half-formed regrets and fears and a bubbling undercurrent of anger she’s afraid will come loose if she opens her mouth, so she stays silent as they run ever forward.

Sapnap yells, and her head snaps up - there, in the tall grass of a plains biome lies a flash of orange that must be Dream. The hunters around her speed up and she strains to follow; the other three are clearly experienced, easily falling into step with each other as she scrambles to keep up. Dream’s head snaps over towards them and he begins to sprint, cutting a line through the yellow field as they race to follow. She’s not seen him since the prison break, has only heard the whispers- an orange clothed monster, all bones and skin and uncaged fury, a diamond axe heaved in his arms slamming against anything that comes too close. It’s hard to rationalize this untamed, unrefined dash to the unwavering calm that she had always associated with his style of fighting, his movements much more like the life-or-death escape of a hunted rabbit than any hunter’s dog. It’s hard to rationalize this Dream with the one she knows- but well, she’s gotten used to that.

It took her far too long to admit, but she’s come to realize that she doesn’t quite know Dream at all.

He leads them forward to the shorter grass and harsher dips and planes of a savannah, the sun beating down in slanting heat against the backs of their necks. The ground they’re standing on begins to shatter into steep cliffs and jagged mountains, rough edges of stone climbing into the sky all around them. Sapnap curses, shading his eyes against the sun.

“He’s going up there,” he says, and George sends arrows flying towards the orange dot blurring across the steep face of a nearby mountain. Sam grumbles as Puffy strains to catch sight of him, watching his scrambling movements up the cliff face to the top.

“Then we follow,” he says, pulling a stack of ender pearls from his inventory. “Each person take a few. We’re too close to lose him now.”

The climb is anything but pleasant, the sun right overhead and making sweat gather at her hairline and drip down her face. Even as a sheep hybrid, she struggles to keep pace with the other hunters as they race over thin paths of granite and clamber up near-vertical faces of stone with little problem, clearly practiced as they follow Dream without breaking their sprint. The rock gives way to dirt and tufts of short-shorn grass and Sapnap’s eyes flash.

“Be careful,” he says, looking straight at her. “He’s cornered - that’s when he does risky shit without thinking about the consequences. He knows you’re the least experienced here and there’s a good chance that he’s going to charge you. If that happens, hold your shield and just block. We’ll handle him from there.”

She swallows back the spark of indignation that rises at his words, a bitter scream that they only see her as a liability dying out as she reminds herself that these three had hunted Dream professionally before, had struggled even with two more at their sides. The caution is far from unwarranted.

“I understand.”

Sapnap nods tersely and looks to the other two with a hand movement that she doesn’t understand. The other two immediately start moving, Sam moving to the front, George nocking an arrow as he takes his place at the rear - they’re still shielding her, she realizes with a small spike of annoyance again, shaking her head and drawing her own cutlass as Sapnap leads the way for them to swing up onto the top of the mountain.

It takes her a moment to adjust; the wind, unhindered by the cliffs that had been shielding them seconds before, whips at her face and draws tears to her eyes, makes her hair fly wildly into her face. Through narrowed eyes, she watches as the figure on the other side of the mountaintop scrambles backwards, diamond axe braced in front of him as he backs to the opposite edge.

“Dream,” Sapnap calls, voice deadly calm. “You’re cornered. Stand down.”

Dream shakes his head, lips curling in a wordless snarl. The sound is desperate, almost inhuman, making Puffy’s hair stand on end. As her vision clears, she stops dead in her tracks despite herself - Dream looks awful. She’d expected him to look disheveled after his escape, hadn’t expected much comfort in his stay in the Vault, but the way he looks, now, hollow eyes and gaunt cheeks and skinny, shaking limbs that only barely seem to be able to hold up his weight, bandages covering every visible inch of skin, wrapped messily around his right arm as if done by one hand - she reaches forward unconsciously and Dream flinches back.

“Don’t-” his voice rasps, cracks, falls in on itself as he wets his lips to try and speak again. “Don’t come closer.”

“Prisoner,” Sam growls, stepping forward, and he turns those wild, fever-bright eyes towards the creeper hybrid, flailing backwards and knuckles white from the grip on his axe. His breathing visibly hitches, head whipping back and forth.

“Don’t come closer,” he hisses again, stepping back, and Puffy stills.

“Sam-” she grabs his sleeve. “Sam- don’t. He’s at the edge.”

Dream’s gaze swings to her, and her heart stutters at the uncaged, obvious fear raging in his eyes. He’s backed to the very back edge of the mountain they’re standing on, left foot halfway off, sending dirt skidding over and off of the cliff down down down to the ground hundreds of feet below. The three hunters stop, muscles tensed, and Dream bares his teeth at them but doesn’t back away further.

His shoulders sag as they stand, stagnant, each huddled on their own side of the mountaintop. His gaze is venomous, green eyes burning even in the glaring light of the sun, flicking warily between their faces as he holds the axe between them.

“So you came,” his voice is tight, a slight tremble pulling at the end despite his seeming bravado. “Here to finish the job, huh?”

Sapnap pulls back his shoulders. “I made a promise, Dream.”

Dream laughs, bitter. His left hand releases on the axe handle to come to his chest, grabbing at his right, looking almost like he’s trying to hold himself. His laughter tapers off into something weak and wrecked, and the sound makes Puffy’s heart clench uncomfortably in her chest.

“Figures you’d keep that one,” his head tips up, looking Sapnap in the eye. “What- did your fiance give up? The revive book not worth the effort anymore?”

Sapnap hisses. “Don’t bring Karl into this-”

“Karl?” Dream’s eyes flash, grip tightening on his upper arm. “No- what? Why-”

“Dream.” Sam’s voice is low, something dark buzzing behind his tone, “Don’t-”

Puffy interrupts him with a hand to his shoulder, stepping forward and freezing mid-step when Dream’s head whips to her, eyes widening and foot scraping against the edge of the cliff again.

“Sapnap, Sam, let him talk,” she levels her gaze at Dream, trying to pick out the emotions warring behind those brilliant green eyes. “Not Karl- you’re talking about Quackity then, right?”

Sam hisses, “Puffy, I don’t think this is a good idea-”

Dream laughs.

The sound is grating, awful, making her hands come to her ears. It rips through skin, wraps around bone, seeps into marrow - he’s laughing, axe disappearing into his inventory so he can clutch his face with both hands, the loose sleeves of his prison uniform falling to his elbows to reveal the bandages wrapping all the way up his forearms and disappearing further under the fabric. In front of her, Sapnap falters, grip on his sword loosening; George steps back, eyebrows wrinkled, bow lowering. Dream laughs like the world is ending, and some cold, hardened thing in her chest shatters at the sound.

“You know,” his hands claw at his hair, wrapping around the strands and pulling, “You know you know you know- you have to know. How-” He shakes his head, tugging at his hair harshly and making Puffy wince at the sight, “Don’t- don’t play stupid here.”

“Know what?” George reaches forward, hands empty, palms up like he’s approaching an injured dog. From the way Dream snaps at the sound, hackles raised and teeth bared, he might as well be one. “Dream, what are you talking about?”

Sapnap looks stricken, still, face clouded in a way that Puffy can’t decipher. “Q- don’t play your mind games here, Dream,” despite his words, he sounds uncertain. Puffy hasn’t seen Quackity around for a while, had thought that he was staying at Sapnap and Karl’s new place. From the way Sapnap’s eyes have darkened, it looks like she assumed wrong. “Quackity hasn’t even been around, what does he have to do with any of this?”

Dream shakes his head again, seemingly stuck in his own head, barely even responding to their words. “You know- you know you know you know- Sam knows- you-” His breath hitches, chest heaving, and Puffy blinks. He’s having a panic attack, a clinical, much more calm part of her says as Dream seems to collapse in on himself. “You know. You have to know he wouldn’t- nobody came if you didn’t know then why didn’t you come if you didn’t know then why did Sam let him in you know you know you know-”

“Sam?” George turns to Sam, hands curling into fists and then uncurling again and again, “Do you know what he’s talking about?”

Sam’s expression is unreadable, ignoring George as he looks back at Dream. “Prisoner,” and has he called him by his name, yet? “Come with us calmly and your punishment will be lightened. There’s nowhere to run. Give up.”

Dream keens, a high-pitched whine exiting his lungs, “I won’t- I won’t tell,” his voice cracks, tears clearly running down his cheeks, “I won’t tell you Quackity I won’t-”

“Sam,” Puffy turns to the hybrid. “I think you should go.”

“Puffy-”

“He’s having a panic attack, Sam. He’s hardly going to do anything.” She levels a glare at him, sheathing her cutlass at her side. “I’m perfectly capable of defending myself, and I’ve promised to help anyone having a mental health crisis on the server.” Something dark and traitorous whispers how she’d given up on Dream before, and she pushes it down.

“He’s a danger to everyone on the server.”

“Sam- he’s not fucking breathing right now on the edge of a cliff. He’s not a danger to anyone but himself.”

“She’s right, Sam,” Puffy’s head snaps to George. He’s looking at her, expression hidden behind his glasses, lips pressed together in a small frown. “Puffy, we’ll be waiting. You or Sapnap call if you need back-up.”

She nods tersely, watches as Sam gives in and follows George down the mountain, the hybrid’s red eyes still staring at Dream as he leaves. Sapnap seems distracted, hardly acknowledging their exchange with his eyes fixed on Dream’s crumpled form, emotions clearly warring over his face, and Puffy brushes past him to get to her patient- Dream.

“Dream,” she speaks, not moving forward when his shoulders seize. “Dream, I won’t move closer unless you want me to,” she enunciates the words clearly, watching his face for any flash of recognition or understanding. He shakes his head minutely at her words, arms trembling, but he doesn’t move closer to the edge. “Can you hear me?”

He nods jerkily, and she smooths the palms of her hands on her pants, trying to calm the race of her heart in her chest.

“Good, very good,” years of training, habit, flood her head, pushing away the buzzing unease and fear and tangled knot of dark feelings that linger every time she sees Dream’s face, “I need you to breathe for me, okay? We’re going to inhale for four- there you go,” she counts, watching the shuddering movement of his chest as he struggles to replicate her movements, “Very good, hold for four, there you go- you’ve got this-”

Slowly, painfully, the rattle of his lungs in his chest becomes something quieter, more manageable, no longer rising and falling in desperate arrhythmic wheezes that make her chest hurt in sympathy. She’s still kneeling there, hands palms-up when he looks up at her, eyes wide, a degree of lucidity having returned to them, and for a moment a flash of fear stabs through her heart.

She swallows it down, pulling forward every ounce of professionalism she can muster. “Dream,” she keeps her voice low and soft, biting her lip at the way he freezes, again, at the call of his name. “Dream, can you step away from the edge?”

His hands clutch at the line of grass and dirt that make up the sod overhang, knuckles white. His eyes keep staring in hers, wide and wet and green, and she shushes him softly under her breath.

“It’s ok, take your time,” she breathes, watching as his hand inches forward bit by bit, gaze still fixed on her face, “It’s okay, Duckling.”

She blinks, and there’s a whirl of orange flying towards her chest; Sapnap shouts behind her, and panic blooms in her head too quickly for her to pick out anything but a desperate little oh god I’m going to die-

The blow never comes.

Instead, she looks down, heart in her throat, at a sobbing, shaking lump pressed against her chest, head buried in the crook over her neck as dirty, tangled hair falls in waves over her shoulder. She freezes, watching as his shoulders shake, hands tangled in her shirt sleeve, barely able to hear the words he’s saying over his wails and her heart thudding in her ears.

“Please don’t bring me back,” he pleads, voice cracking, “Please- please I don’t wanna go back please tell Sapnap to make it quick please I can’t go through another Quackity visit please Puffy don’t let them send me back-”

“Dream-”

“I’ll- I won’t fight, I pr’mise, Sapnap can keep his promise it’s okay I won’t fight anymore I’m-” he keens, high-pitched and mangled, into her shoulder, “I’m so tired Puffy.”

“Duckling,”

“Don’ make me go back, please.”

Puffy pulls him back, presses her hand on his cheek, murmuring softly. And- maybe she shouldn’t be doing this, maybe Dream’s a danger just like Sam said, maybe she’ll come to regret helping him the same way she had before - but right now he’s in pain and he’s crying and he’s closer than he’s been in so, so long and all she can see is her duckling, hurting, her duckling, home.

“Dream,” she brushes her thumb against his cheek, smooths a lock of hair behind his ear. “What happened in there?”

And he begins to speak.

[kuroos-moon]

Captains and Strong Independent S/o’s

☁︎︎ request:  Oikawa, Kuroo and either Bokuto or Ushijima (I cant choose!) reacting to a (fem or g/n) reader who does some type of martial art and they’re kinda tough/strong and (maybe they’re the team manager and they don’t take no shit) and the captains kinda crush on them for it? (I like to imagine Oikawa having a tough gf who stops Iwa from being mean to him and jokingly threatens Iwa that if he wants to hurt Tohru he has to go through her

☁︎︎ pairing: oikawa x reader, kuroo x reader, ushijima x reader

☁︎︎ warning/s: swearing, felt a bit of angst while writing for ushijima’s idk why tho it might just be my imagination :> 

☁︎︎ a/n: also dont know if it’s obvious but i kinda got carried away with ushijima’s 

Oikawa Tohru

• is a smug little shit every time you’re with him or in the same room at least 

• like,, he could piss Iwa-chan off to death and he won’t get hurt for it? now this is what he calls power

• sincerely loves and adores you, but at first, he kinda got sad that you’re so self-sufficient, you practically don’t need him 

• but he’s now long accepted that you’re just so you… and in your relationship, it’s you who does the protecting and looking out by a whole lot (ofc it doesn’t mean he loves you less) 

• that’s why he gets so so soft when he gets his turn in being the person who’s leaned on

• as their manager, he loves how you get things done so effectively, even Kyotani bows down to you, as he should—he always says in his head, smiling as he looks at the feral boy getting flustered around you  

• he listens to you all the time and we all know Tohru backing down is so rare 

“Oy, you’re overdoing it, let’s go.” 

“Head home without me, Iwa-chan,” he mutters mindlessly as he screws up another serve, a scowl on his face as he bends down to get another ball; but he freezes at an instant upon Iwaizumi’s words—no, Iwaizumi’s threat.

“Suit yourself, I’ll call y/n.” 

Oikawa has never changed stance so quickly in his life, cleaning up the gym as he sends smiles to his best friend’s way every five seconds, hoping he won’t tell on him on his cute but scary girl who could easily kick him unconscious. 

• he uses your name to threaten anyone who wants to cross him and they will back down immediately

• also likes to show off because he knows you treasure him so much; he likes to be babied by you especially in front of others 

“y/n-chan c’mere,” he softly says, whining a bit. The rest of his team look at the both of you in astonishment as you take the captain in your arms, Tohru’s cheek on your shoulder, looking back at the bewildered look on his teammate’s faces while you sit side by side on the bench. 

They could never get used to someone as tough as you having such the softest spot for Shittykawa… like how could you even stand him? 

“Really tired,” he mumbles, a small smile on his lips when you run your fingers through his hair. “I know, you were great as always, let’s head home so you could rest.” 

“Y/n-chan, today, Iwa-chan hit my head when you were out to get water. It really hurt,” he says, still in your embrace as he smirks at his teammates. 

Their mouths fall open, Iwaizumi’s eye twitching in irritation for his shitty best friend. 

“And Maki-chan…” Hanamaki grits his teeth, looking at him pleadingly in panic as his mind runs through everything he did today, wondering what he could’ve done to your beloved. “He ate my milk bread; I was really hungry.” 

Yup, Maki and Iwaizumi knew there was hell to pay, gulping in unison when you pull away from your boyfriend and narrow your eyes at them. 

“Iwa-chan. I thought we agreed you weren’t hitting Tohru again.” 

A chill runs down his spine, Tohru simply looks at you with pride, pulling you into his lap as he wraps his arms around your waist before you get the chance to throw hands at Iwaizumi.

Kuroo Tetsuro

• loves loves LOVES your remarks, your attitude, the way you take no crap from anyone, like “ah, he’s scared shitless, that’s my girl” 

• dw, you’re not a thug or anything, but men who force their feelings on you will see heaven’s gates early 

• and kuroo’s so pleased about it. sure, he’d love to get the chance to act all cool and brooding and possessive in front of other suitors but what’s more fun is watching their dejected faces as you say—

• “how many times do I have to turn you down? I have my tetsuro, now back the fuck off or I’ll break your nose.” 

• you had no idea he was just outside your classroom waiting for you, arms crossed and a cocky grin stretching his lips when you lock eyes with him

• “chibi-chan!” he calls off cheerily, and you bet he’ll tease you about it til death do you part 

• “don’t just stand there, give your tetsuro a hug!” 

• laughs about how your friendly banters with yamamoto always end up with you winning the argument 

• you rub off as mean bc you won’t take any disrespect, even a little—and that’s great

• those are one of the things he loves about you 

• but he’s always worried you might get hurt or hated for it, though he knows you are very much capable of beating anyone up even kuroo himself

• so he’s always holding you back, and I can’t stress this enough, but this man knows you could fend for yourself and he is so proud you’re his partner 

• he just wants to make certain that no one’ll hurt you, okay kitten? 

• your conversations often go like this: 

“I’ll beat up whoever tries to lay a hand on me.” 

“don’t say such reckless things, you’re not superman.”

“uhuh, geez, I’ll be fine, I don’t need you to walk me home.” 

“well news flash, your tetsuro, needs his y/n to walk him ho—ow,” he mutters when you slap his chest. 

“go home with kenma.”

“I don’t want kenma,” he scowls, already irked that this is turning into an argument.

“too bad,” you deadpan.  

“ugh,” he groans, “imagine a girlfriend who actually listens to you, just imagine.” 

• he is the one and only person you’ll gladly accept lectures from, bc his lectures are always reasonable and for your own good

after checking and verifying that you were completely okay, you knew he was about to go down to business. 

“you got into a fight? What are you? a thug?” he crosses his arms. You were both inside the gym along with the rest of his teammates who looked like they were far too preoccupied to listen. They were all clearly listening in though, except Kenma of course.  

watching your figures from a few feet away, it was obvious that he was scolding you, and Lev already had a ridiculous visualization of you hitting Kuroo. Everyone was worried you’ll fight him, or maybe even hit him, well, everyone except Kenma, of course. 

The setter knew that you would never ever lay a hand on kuroo as if the 6’1 captain was fragile. He also knew that you loved and respected kuroo too much to actually get agitated just because he was scolding you, you aren’t an unreasonable person. Lastly, he knew that kuroo would be going soft on you in five minutes tops, his best friend is hopeless like that. 

Kenma was right, he always is. Your back is glued to the wall behind you, Kuroo’s hand beside your head, his face extremely close to yours that you’re left flustered which is rare. 

After you were rambling on about how you had to put that girl in her place, going off about how it made you so mad and he should cut you some slack, he knew just how to shut you up. And it worked. You’re speechless. 

“what was that again, hm? go on, you surely had a lot to say,” he mutters, acting all tough as if he wasn’t dying to just kiss you now. when you don’t respond and stare at him and his lips instead, he already gives in. yes, just like that. “you were wrong to do that, okay?” he breathes, the worry from earlier on making its way out through his voice. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” 

Locking lips with you, you pull him closer to yourself, and kuroo had purposely decided to kabedon you on this wall since his broad back would be shielding the two of you from his teammates’ line of sight. 

After pulling away, he pats your head, licking his lips. “I forgive you, I’m not mad anymore.” You look away in embarrassment, realizing how petty you must’ve seemed to him. He sighs before hugging you, chin atop your head. 

“Make this the last time, okay? I swear you’re shortening my lifespan having me worried all the time.” 

You hug him tighter as a response, kuroo letting out a breath of contentment. Regardless of how tough you are outside; you are and always will be his soft little kitten and it was his greatest honor that you allow him to take care of you like this. 

Ushijima Wakatoshi

• is probably a little too used to the idea of his most treasured girlfriend being extremely capable and self-sufficient 

• his teammates would always look at him like ‘why are you not stepping in,’ every time you’re in a tough spot i.e. having an argument with someone or having a too-touchy suitor 

• then they’d be like “oh, that’s why,” after you flung the despicable creature out to space 

• he thinks so highly of you, not only are you physically strong, you’re even tougher on the inside too

• this is kinda a given but I’ll say it anyway—he can be unintentionally insensitive (well your relationship is kinda new)

• example no 1: 

you were arguing with goshiki and while he would normally like to ignore you and let you have your way; he was getting annoyed bc the argument was far too petty. 

“I’m gonna surpass him!” 

“and I’m telling you that you ca-

your mouth is clamped with a big hand, and it took you only a second to realize it was Wakatoshi because only he would have the nerve to lay a hand on you like this. he still doesn’t say anything, dragging you with him in an empty hallway for privacy.

finally after you stopped walking, he turns to you and looks at you expectantly. “what was that for? Did you even wash your hand,” you mutter, slightly annoyed. 

“I haven’t touched the ball yet, don’t worry,” he lowly says, making you sulk because he totally missed your point. “still, you didn’t have to make me shut up by clamping your hand against my mouth.” He’s too… not gentle with you sometimes. 

“you were going to say something you shouldn’t to goshiki.”

“he said something he shouldn’t have.” 

he only narrows his eyes at you and you do the same, anyone from your class would’ve been scared at the sight. You were both known as the cutest yet intimidatingly scary couple. 

• you were in the early stages of dating and though you understood each other well, it wasn’t really enough yet

• it’s all good though, because once you tell him that he was too uncaring of you and your feelings he does something that no other man would do: 

• apologize, admit his mistake, reflect on it a lot and,,, actually change!! 

• he’s much softer to you after that, and he finally realizes that you were still his precious girl and you were sensitive when it came to him 

• cursed himself for being too reliant on how you never seemed sensitive or needy

• doesn’t dwell too much on regret, just treats you 100x times better 

• is fascinated with your passion for martial arts but is against you overdoing training

• one time, he was torn between dragging you out of practice or just turning a blind eye to your visible exhaustion since you’re always so tough anyway, you’ll manage 

• but then he remembers his promise to himself to never treat you like you aren’t the most special person to him so he excuses himself from practice and heads to your training room 

you sat alone, your back to the wall. everyone else has gone home but you stayed because your muscles were too sore and you felt like you couldn’t even walk for another day. maybe it had something to do with how you’ve been training too much. 

you’re startled upon seeing shoes on the floor you blankly stared at, looking up to meet eyes with Ushijima. “Wakatoshi,” you say in surprise. 

he is expressionless as he bends down across you between your legs, and you had to admit this was something you weren’t used to from him. “are you okay?” he asks, his voice soft as velvet. you’re taken aback by his question, looking away in embarrassment. 

Wakatoshi rarely asks you that, and most of the time it was only when you said the word ‘ow’ when you accidentally hit something. you clear your throat, bringing your hands together to play with your fingers, “I’m okay.” 

it was silent for a few seconds before you hear him sigh, not only that, warm, gentle hands had found its way to yours and you look at him, bewildered. “is this okay?” he asks, looking down at both your hands and you nod. “your hands are much smaller, compared to mine at least.” he says, but you’re too flustered to even understand that. 

“are other things okay too?” he asks, and like his former statement, you didn’t understand. your silence doesn’t stop him though, he decided to push his luck. tugged gently by your wrist, your back’s no longer pressed to the wall as ushijima wakatoshi pulls you in his arms for the first time in your very few months of dating. 

“wakatoshi,” you mumble, your heart racing so much you’re sure he feels it against his chest. he’s so warm, welcoming, and in his loving hold felt like the rightest place to be. “you’re not feeling okay.”

you don’t respond, opting to bury your face at the crook of his neck instead. “I’m here, I know you’re tired.” 

you both stay in that position for a long time, it was addicting to be cradled in his arms and he felt the same. “y/n,” he whispers, and you hum in response. 

“you’re strong. very strong. you don’t need a man at all.”

your heart skips a beat, “toshi are you breaking up with me?” 

you hear a soft chuckle ring in your ears, “let me finish. as I said, you’re very strong. you look like you’re always so tough. but you’re not, and so…” he trails off, so you pull away to look at him, hesitance evident in his eyes, his palm still pressed at the small of your back. 

“you’re not always strong. in fact if I dare say, you are fragile, and I care about you. so please, allow me to be there for you all the time, I’ll be here, just like now.” 

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