#just thinking about the look on his face. thinking about how he'd never said it to anyone before.

[bbluefllame]

hcs on how I think mha characters sleep

contains: pure silly stupidness

characters: tomura shigaraki, touya todoroki, keigo takami, izuku midoriya, toga himiko, plus one katsuki hc😭

note: LISTEN GANG I WAS SLEEPY BUT I COULDNT SKEEP SO I WAS LIKE OH EM GEE!!! keigo's went out of hand 😔😔😔

tomura shigaraki

- he usually sleeps in his normal attire, he has no energy to get up and change

- sleeps 4 hrs MAX

- his thumbs are always I mean always are covered by the rest of his fingers tightly, he probably decays mattresses every couple of months by accident

- either super light sleeper or super heavy no in-between, probably doesn't even sleep most of the time

- there's no pre-sleep routine. mf just plops down into the bed and blacks out OR he sleeps in his gaming chair😭

- if you're sleeping next to him, he would make sure he's facing the opposite side with his hands dangling at the edge of the bed just to make sure nothing happens to you.

- one thing that makes him black out is playing with his hair, like blackout like snore mimimimi type shit

- he's so still in his sleep, barely moves to the point you might think he's dead if he wasn't breathing‼️

- Overall he'd be a pretty good person to sleep next to (if he even sleeps) just make sure he doesn't have nightmares or everything is done and dusted (literally)

touya todoroki

- he either sleeps naked or something that can't snag on the staples/ irritate his scars (probably naked bcs have you seen his room?? ITS EMPTY EMPTY THERES NOTHING BESIDES HIS USUAL CLOTHES)

- I give him 5-6 hrs maybe then he wakes up but on nights where he's in too much pain, he takes a shit ton of painkillers and tries to sleep just to wake up 2 hrs later

-biggest snorer out there, complete opposite of tomura. esp w those lungs of his omg.

- you could be sleeping and BOOM 🚉 SNOREEEEEE HONKKKK you need earplugs with him, then he wakes up and goes "I don't snore, fuck you mean??"

- he tosses and turns 24/7 also he will 100% steal the blanket and kick you off, at this point it'd be more comfortable to sleep on the ground than to sleep next to him

- yk those videos where it's like someone tweaking while sleeping, like they roll around steal blankets and kick and stuff and do the craziest shit, yeah that's touya

- idk if he has a pre sleep routine I'm leaning towards it depends? he usually just makes sure his scars are clean so he doesn't get an infection and yk die!

- I conclude, a horrible person to sleep next to. Would much rather kms than tolerate a night of his torture!

keigo takami

- this bitch has 2 options, blackout the second he gets home in his hero attire, or if it's a day where he has to recover from an injury or something, these navy blue sweatpants and a black t-shirt specifically

- depends on the day he's sleeping either 3 hrs or 9 hrs

- he doesn't snore but he talks in his sleep about the weirdest shit ever "noooo pls don't put me in the airfryer" he 100% has the weirdest fucking dreams to ever exist

- he never sleeps on his back, literally always on his stomach so his wings don't get in the way

- also on the topic of his wings, during said weird dreams if he's running away or something they start flapping and shit😭 it'd be so annoying to sleep next to him

- he sleepwalks 100% you look at that face and tell me he DOESNT?? he's a really light sleeper as well esp for nights where he might be called in

- definitely has a pre sleep routine (if he doesn't immediately blackout) ESP if you're living tg oh em gee, he'd have a longer skincare routine than you (tbf the skincare routine is kind of obligation from him to appeal to the civilians nd shit)

- he'd have a headband on his head pushing his hair back, washing his face, using a toner etcetera, and then going "baaaaaabeeee where'd you put my cosrx snail mucin, I know you used it" and he'd be all sassy and shit (twink cough cough sorry)

- if he's having a calm day, he's being the clingiest cutest little shit, you wanna go to eat? "nooo 5 minutes" . You wanna go to the bathroom? "Ugh be quick" while he's guarding the door waiting to tackle you and drag you back to bed. He's such a little (loving) shit

- he just lays there on top of you not willing to let go with a serene expression on his face, those days are rare though (fuck the commission 😠)

- random but he has some of the worst bed head you could ever see

- overall, kind of annoying to sleep next to (funny as well) but for him, who wouldn't tolerate it 🙏🏼

izuku midoriya

- before OFA bro used to get no sleep he'd have the most fucked up sleep schedule to ever exist ‼️‼️ like during weekends no sleep at all just staying up analyzing new heroes

- w OFA he's sleeping healthily or too much with the amount of energy he uses ESP in the first seasons when he breaks his bones a shit ton

- HIS SLEEP WEAR LMAOAOA funniest thing I've seen i don't have to say anything abt it 😭 a fucking shirt w " t-shirt" on it or sumn

- doesn't snore but moves a lot, and not even kicking?? just flipping side to side or clutching the blanket like he's a woman clutching her purse in the 1800s (no one's taking it from you calm down lil bro)

- occasionally he might talk but it's like 2 words then he flips to the other side

- no pre-sleep routine but that's bc he doesn't need one, his pre-sleep routine is studying or training, BUT bro has to be like wrapping his arms and hands at night or something bcs he's in pain (his arms are fucked up there's no way he doesn't have chronic pain)

- if you're forced to sleep next to each other (insert ur own fanfic idea of why) he would be so tense he'd have his hands by his side tryna not sleep so he doesn't annoy you, at this point, you'd be annoyed by how tense he is

- he's not a bad person to sleep next to tbf, just like he might be kinda annoying that's it

Toga Himiko

- she has pink pj's and everything she's such a cutie (some have blood on them but whoops accident!)

- she sleeps with plushies (her room is adorable. search it up pleek‼️), changes the plushie every night so "every single one of them feels loved"

- she sleeps pretty healthily although on the low side 6-7 hrs prolly, she's told by compress "You're a growing girl, you need your sleep" or something similar when she wakes up too early

- she's more giggles in her sleep rather than anything, maybe whispers a name then goes teehehehe, she's pretty calm in her sleep honestly

- she has a pre-sleep routine and it's adorable, if it's in the broke era she steals face masks (specifically hello kitty ones), moisturizers, toners, face washes and skips back to the base with a smile on her face

- has 100% forced a couple of the league members to use the face masks

- has music blasting (for some reason I see her playing like a g6 and bopping her head while putting stuff on) at 10 pm, she 100% has been forced to turn it off bcs it woke everyone up

- she's such a cuddly person as well but in the best way possible, before sleeping though 100% there's gonna be gossiping or just yapping tg

overall my favorite !! silliest girl to ever exist I luv her

bonus katsuki

- bro sleeps like a Victorian child dying from the plague, waiting for a true loves kiss type shit you'd see him and go "wtf okay disney princess😟"

[thedensworld]

The Moves | K.Mg

Pairing: Mingyu x reader

Genre: Suggestive, humour

Summary: Here's the plan, get you on the bed.

Title number 50!

Mingyu had been restless these past few days. He missed you, and all he could do was stare at his phone, waiting for any sign of life from you. Mingyu had never been the type to get desperate. In fact, he's always been a man full of ego and pride. But ever since you came into his life, all of that had been tossed in the bin. Now, you were the priority.

Sure, Mingyu could have just bought a ticket, hopped on the next flight, and come straight to you. But he knows you too well—he knows you’d hate that, and that’s exactly why he’s been so restless ever since you left for that business trip.

He grabbed his phone from the coffee table, his thumb idly scrolling through articles to distract himself. One caught his eye: "5 Moves That Will Have Women on Their Knees." He snorted, amused. Mingyu did love seeing you on your knees, but honestly, he'd probably be the one on his knees for you. Either way, it worked out.

As he kept reading, ideas started forming in his mind. Maybe he could surprise you when you got back, do these five things and drive you wild:

1. A strong-Proximity stare after a hug or kiss

2. Gentle touch at the right moment

3. Whisper sweet, sultry compliments—mostly about how irresistible you look, of course.

4. Pin your hands above your head and take his time with you during make out.

5. Lock eyes during… well, you know.

He chuckled to himself. Okay, maybe this was making him sound like a total perv, or a man with a serious sensual streak, but he couldn't help it. It’s been a week since he last touched you, and all the conversations between you had been through texts, calls, or video chats—if you weren’t swamped with work. And he'd be lying if he said he didn’t miss you in bed.

With a heavy sigh, Mingyu leaned back on the couch. He had to admit it—he was a desperate man now. Desperate for you.

A notification from his phone caught Mingyu’s attention immediately. He glanced down and saw it was your message, letting him know you had arrived safely in South Korea and were on your way home with your manager. A wave of relief washed over him, and without thinking, he kicked the air in excitement before quickly typing back, "See you soon, my love."

He didn’t waste another second—he headed straight to the shower, the anticipation of seeing you building with each passing minute.

An hour later, Mingyu stood by the curb, hands stuffed deep in his pockets, trying his hardest to resist the overwhelming urge to pull you into his arms. Your manager was still there, after all. But the second you stepped out of the car, his heart leaped. He hadn’t seen you in what felt like forever, and everything in him screamed to close the distance between you.

He busied himself with your luggage, exchanging polite goodbyes with your manager, before finally following you into the house. Once the door clicked shut behind him, he set your luggage down near the entryway.

"Hi. How are you?" You asked softly, turning to him as you peeled off your jacket and tossed it onto the nearby chair. Your eyes, though tired, softened as you opened your arms.

Mingyu didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward and embraced you tightly, as if afraid to let go. God, he missed this. He missed your warmth, your familiar scent, the way you fit perfectly in his arms. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling the faint scent of your shampoo, and felt an overwhelming sense of peace wash over him. Your hugs weren’t just comforting; they were his sanctuary, a place where all his worries seemed to melt away.

"I missed you so much," you whispered against his chest, voice laced with exhaustion. He kissed the top of your head, murmuring back, "I missed you like crazy. I wanted to hop on a flight to LA so badly."

You let out a small chuckle, though he could feel the weight of your weariness. "How was the shooting?" he asked gently, his arms still wrapped around you, unwilling to let go just yet.

You shook your head slowly, the frustration clear without needing words. Mingyu's heart clenched at the sight of your exhaustion. He tightened his hold, his other hand coming up to rub soothing circles on your back. "It's okay, love," he said softly. "You can tell me all about it when you're ready."

You pulled him even closer, as though you wanted to meld your bodies together, to make up for every second of distance between you over the past days. Mingyu could feel how much you needed this closeness, the way you trembled slightly against him, and it only made him want to shield you from everything.

"Later," you whispered, your voice small and tired. He kissed your forehead, a silent promise of understanding. "Take your time," he said gently.

Mingyu held you a little longer, savoring the moment, thankful that you were finally home. Nothing else mattered as long as you were there, in his arms, where you belonged.

*

Mingyu sat at the dining table, a soft smile tugging at his lips as his eyes followed your every movement in the kitchen. It had been a while since he’d seen you in your element, confidently moving around and preparing a meal. Watching you cook brought back memories of all the times he’d admired your skill, but more than that, it reminded him how much he loved savoring the food you made with such care. There was something so intimate, so comforting, in the simple act of seeing you master the kitchen.

You came over with two plates in hand, setting one in front of him with a quick peck on his cheek—the sweetest finishing touch. Mingyu grinned, feeling warmth spread through him. Tonight’s dinner was pasta, and he was more than ready to devour it.

"Thanks for the food," he said, his eyes sparkling as he dug in.

After dinner, you settled on the couch, your eyes fixed on the TV as a Western drama played on the screen. Mingyu, however, couldn’t bring himself to focus on the show. Instead, his gaze lingered on you, admiring the way the soft light from the screen illuminated your face. He had missed this—missed you. It wasn’t just your presence he craved, but the small, quiet moments like this when the world slowed down and it was just the two of you.

You turned your head, feeling his gaze, and gave him a curious look. "Why are you watching me?" you asked, a hint of worry in your voice. "Is something wrong?"

Mingyu sighed, feeling a flicker of guilt for making you worry. He shook his head, rubbing his face as he mumbled, "I just missed you."

"You missed me?" You raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in your eyes at his sudden confession.

Mingyu leaned back against the couch, feeling a slight heat rise to his cheeks. "Yes," he admitted, more confidently this time, though the blush deepened.

You stood up from your spot beside him and without a word, moved to sit on his lap. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a warm embrace, your love and affection evident in every movement. Mingyu’s hands instinctively found their place around your waist, as if they had always belonged there. It was second nature now, this closeness, this comfort. Every time you were alone with him, it seemed like you always ended up in his arms, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He held you tight, his fingers gently tracing circles on your back, while you rested your head against his chest. For a moment, neither of you said anything, content to just exist in the peaceful silence, the unspoken love between you filling the room.

Is it time to make a move? Mingyu thought, his pulse quickening as he gazed at you.

You pulled back slightly, but Mingyu’s hands remained firmly on your waist, keeping you seated on his lap. His eyes locked onto yours, filled with adoration, but beneath that was a simmering desire.

Number one: a strong, lingering stare after a hug or kiss.

You smiled at him, your hands gently cupping his face, your thumbs brushing over his cheeks. Mingyu leaned into your touch, savoring the warmth of your hands. His fingers began to explore the contours of your body, tracing familiar lines as he slowly leaned in for a kiss.

Number two: a gentle touch at the right moment.

His lips met yours, soft at first, but as the kiss deepened, his hands moved with more purpose. He pulled away from your mouth just long enough to pepper your neck and shoulders with soft kisses, each one sending shivers through you. His mouth hovered near your ear, nibbling lightly before he whispered in a low, breathy voice, "You look so beautiful… it’s almost painful."

His fingers deftly began to unbutton your pajama top as he murmured, "I just want to make you feel good," his voice raspy and filled with desire.

Number three: whisper sweet, sultry compliments.

The kiss grew more heated, more urgent, as Mingyu lowered you onto the couch, his body hovering over yours. Your hands found their way under his shirt, your fingers tracing the lines of his toned skin, igniting the passion between you. The tension was palpable, each kiss more intense than the last. Without warning, he gently took your hands from his body and pinned them above your head, holding you in place. He paused, breaking the kiss just long enough to gaze down at you. His breath caught as he admired how breathtaking you looked, flushed and beautiful beneath him.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice full of sincerity and longing, before claiming your lips again.

Number four: pin her hands above her head and take his time during the make-out.

Everything was building to this moment, but Mingyu was patient, savoring every touch, every kiss. The anticipation hung heavy in the air, and as he hovered above you, he realized he was falling deeper in love with by every second.

The final move? It was just about a matter of time.

Mingyu took his time with you, showering you with compliments about your body and the effect you had on him every time you were together. He sighed in pleasure when your hand found his, loving how you made him feel.

"Babe..." you mumbled, but Mingyu couldn’t care less. He was too busy exploring your mouth and savoring your softness.

Then you dropped a bombshell. "I'm on my period."

Mingyu froze, a stunned silence enveloping the room for what felt like an eternity. "Seriously?" he finally asked, disbelief etched on his face. You nodded, heat rushing to your cheeks from the embarrassment of your confession.

He buried his head in your shoulder, laughter bubbling up. What kind of comedy was this? He had been mentally counting the moves he’d read about in that article, "5 Moves to Make Women on Their Knees." But how could he attempt the fifth one when you two had agreed never to go there while you were on your period?

With a heavy sigh, Mingyu shifted away from you, sitting up and leaving you still lying on the couch. "I’m sorry... I just couldn't control it. I really miss you," he said, frustration creasing his brow as he rubbed his face.

"No, don’t be sorry. I should be the one apologizing. I should have told you sooner," you replied, squatting in front of him and gently pulling his hands away from his beautiful face.

He sighed again, but you could still see a hint of a smile playing on his lips, as if he found the situation amusing. "Why are you smiling?" you asked, genuinely puzzled.

Mingyu shook his head, a playful glint in his eyes. "I’m still hard," he whispered, resting his head back on your shoulder.

What you said next took him by surprise. "Want me to take care of it?"

He couldn’t believe his ears. He didn’t need to deploy any of the five moves to get you on your knees. All the embarrassment and longing suddenly felt worth it. Mingyu's heart raced at the thought, and he couldn't help but grin. This was turning into an unexpected night, and he was all in.

He's glas he's married to you.

[citrustan]

dating girl (jjk)

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: you try to convince yourself that you're really okay with 'casually dating' your crush.

genre: college au, fwb kinda thing but more than friends ygm? angst!

"Are they allowed to cancel an entire day at college? That can't be good for anyone..." Your mother ponders out loud as you walk around the city hand-in-hand.

"There's not much you can do if someone decides to paint over every projector lens on campus." You nod.

"Lucky for me, I get to spend time with my little baby," she nuzzles her nose into your hair, squeezing you in a side-hug, "Still can't believe we have to schedule our hangouts now."

"Yeah, there's that..." You smile half-heartedly.

You stop near a flower stall, taking in the hustle and bustle of the city. It's especially crowded because of your university abruptly cancelling a bunch of classes.

After your day had freed up unexpectedly, you had invited your sorta but not really boyfriend, Jungkook, to go cafe hopping to find where all the good teas are because you knew he'd bee available. But he never responded.

So your mood has been a bit damp all day.

You had just stepped out of this store that sold handmade sweaters and yarn balls. Not even a good shopping spree could lift your spirits.

What definately doesn't help is randomly seeing said sorta but not really boyfriend who didn't respond to your texts out and about with some leggy blonde girl.

You've never seen her around.

Not that you know every single person on campus, but if they've crossed Jungkook's path, you know them.

They're dining together al fresco, at one of the cafes you had literally listed in your text to Jungkook.

Talk about a slap in your face.

For a second, you think she might just be his sister or something.

That thought bubble is quickly shot at with a razor sharp arrow when you see him kiss her knuckles.

Your eyes involuntary darken, and your mouth forms a pout. The kind one has when they're trying to hold back a cry or a sob.

All the while, your mother had talked about your grandparents' separation, the local diner having caught fire, and matching mother and daughter shoes she had bought for your birthday.

You were listening passively so you didn't quite catch everything.

"You're still seeing him, aren't you?" She tilted her head in confusion.

When your mother notices the look on your face, she frowns, following the line of your vision.

At spotting Jungkook and mystery girl, she gasps angrily, "Oh, no, he sucks." She turns back to you, "Honey, I'm so sorry."

"No, mom, this is normal," you smile weakly, "And it's okay."

"Yes." You nod, "I am."

"But then he's there," she points at the pair with her chin, "seeing her. How's that okay?"

"It just is, mom! Really," you attempt to convince your mother (and yourself) that you were 100% fine with witnessing Jungkook out with other women. "We're keeping things casual. Very... casual."

"And that's a mutual decision?" She confirms.

"We both agreed." You concur.

Your mother's still unsure about your choices. "Well. Okay then."

You glance at Jungkook and mystery girl one last time.

The picture isn't pretty. He's leaning into her ear and has his large hand placed over her bare thigh as she caressed his arm with her much smaller hand, thoroughly enjoying his attention.

Your mother watches your expression go stiff, "So, how does this work?"

Snapping you out of your daze, she pushes a few strands of hair away from your eyes.

When you frown at her she sighs, "Sorry..."

"Oh. Um..." You exhale, "Well, we see each other and we see other people, and that's that. We're cas-" - "Yeah, casual, I heard." Your mother interrupts your blabber.

"It's ok." You look down at your feet, kicking a few stray pebbles out of the way.

"I just--- I thought you guys were sleeping together." She blurts.

"Mom!" You exclaim, looking around to see if anyone had heard her, "It's not that big of a deal. I want this too. And I need to learn to date too."

Again, you try to ease your mind about your decision.

You lightly cringe and look around, "Uh... Nobody yet. But this guy from one of my extras--- his name's Hoseok but we call him Hobi, or Hoba, depending on how close you are to him--- anyway, he asked me out to a halloween theme party next week."

"So who else are you dating?" She asks pointedly.

This is suddenly getting very exhausting.

Your mother gives you a knowing look, deciding to play along anyway, "Oh! You've never mentioned him before."

"Mhm. Because it's new." You hunch your shoulders nervously.

The party was hosted by the student body to raise funds for, you don't know, collegiate stuff.

You had imagined going with Jungkook, with matching Dentist and Tooth Fairy couple costumes. But he hadn't asked you yet and you definitely weren't going to bring it up first.

Maybe you can do the look with Hoseok instead.

It's less than a week away, so you're not expecting anything from him either. He probably already has another date lined up.

You wonder if it's the blonde he's with now.

"So, are you gonna do it?"

"Do what?" Was she in your head?

"Go with Hobi or Hoba." She makes air quotations for 'Hobi or Hoba.'

"Oh, yeah. Yep. Definitely." Suddenly remembering, you add, "Oh and can you make me my costume? I want to be the Tooth Fairy?" You softly ask her, knowing it's a little last minute, but also knowing she wouldn't deny you.

"Why of course! Does... Hobi need a costume too?" She asks carefully.

"Oh, no. Probably not." Well, you don't know. You don't know if his offer even stands now and you might end up not going at all.

Your mother rubs your shoulder, "Ask him and let me know, 'kay?"

You force out an uncomfortable smile and nod, "Thanks."

Although your mother's not convinced, she decides to drop the topic all together.

"Well, that's good," she smiles down at you warmly, "Do you want to get that sweater exchanged?"

It was vague, but you appreciated her attempt either way.

"Mhm. Back to the store we go." You narrate with an airy laugh.

Your mother was in the lead, already making her way to the store you had just walked out of.

Once again, your gaze falls on Jungkook and his date, and to your surprise he was staring right back at you.

You want to give him a little smile. To show him you're unbothered. But you couldn't seem to force one out this time.

So you settle with giving him a small wave, which he returns, mirroring your expression.

His date follows his line of sight and spots you too, giving you a tight smile. It's not passive aggressive, just... decent. Not polite either. But why should she be?

Jungkook blinks at you as you hurriedly leave trying to keep up with your mother.

Maybe you should focus on Hoseok for now.

note: nobody asked for this but i was feeling a little silly :p needed some angsty ouchie with the possibility of a favourable conclusion so i indulged!

hey bonus points if you can tell what inspired this! and if you read all this lmk what you think regardless :D

[wrennyfics]

sub!snape headcanons :)

{part one}

im working on some sub!snape fics rn (ur requests), but in the mean time... have this

im high. so i apologize if thiss is a mess. pls ignore the grammar or whatever

warnings: NSFW, explicit, smutty (MINORS DNI OR I STG)

alright here we go (virgin, inexperienced, sub!snape)

My headcanons about...

Kissing: I honestly, this is kinda sad, but i imagine that sev was always really scared to be kissed because he thought it would be a prank. The first time you kiss him would have to be somewhere private, for this reason and the fact he hates pda, and you'd have to ask him. (i mean obviously, consent is important folks) but i mean, like literally verbally, "Severus, can I kiss you?" And i think at first his face is just blank, like hes trying to figure out if you're serious, amd he gets all flustered, and blushing and like "i, uh, you want.. are u sure? i.." or he is literally speechless and just nods

Kissing Cont. As the kissing gets more intimate i feel like hed be breathing pretty heavily. we know this man is skilled at occulemency and can control his emotions sooo well.. but when it comes to this... i think that man lets it go and is just a shaky, panting, flustered mess

Teasing: Especially in the beginning, he doesn't like to tease you or make moves. One, he's impatient. Two, he doesn't really know what to do and is scared of doing the wrong thing and messing up. But the second you start kissing on his neck... Running your hands down his body...

Preferences: sub!snape i think def prefers gentle!dom. i don't think he'd be totally against pain or stuff like that... but especially at first and for the most part, imo he would prefer to be taken care of. like lets bffr, his entire life he was neglected, touch starved and forced to always be in control. I think he would crave giving in, letting someone else control him

Prefrences Cont. He keeps his clothes on, especially at first. prob the trauma, mixed with insecurity, mixed with a bunch of other fun stuff. But at first, he is nearly fully clothed.

Kinks: Praise. 100%. And if you asked him before you guys had had sex about praise he probably would've scoffed. But the second you're on top of him the first time, moaning his name, saying how good hes making you feel, how well he's going... I think hes like o h. also slight degredation

Kinks cont. I don't think he'd like to be tied up tbh. as pretty as that'd be.. i think he'd need to touch you, feel you, his hands roaming everywhere. being pinned down by your wrists is different tho

Fav positions: when he's sub! he def likes you riding him, pinning his wrists down, taking what you need from him. he gets to see your whole body.. and relax for once and be a lil selfish in his own pleasure

Oral: sub!snape def prefers to give as opposed to recieving, i think this about dom!snape too, but especially about sub!snape. especially when you ride his face, when he gets to look up at you, watch your face contort in pleasure... especially when you grind down on him, but giving sub!snape head is like, a religious experience fam. on jah, on your jaw, dun dun tiss. yea that man is a shaking, whimpering mess, his hands clawing at the sheets, panting, cursing, begging. yep

His first time: lets be honest guys. he aint lasting long. but i think he would be like THIS? is what its like? and then proceed to overexhaust himself by going ten times because how in the world had he never felt this before.

misc.

he never used to touch himself much, insecurity and yk depression, but since you... whenever you're gone... he fucks his pillows yep i said it.

he def likes to edged, and having to beg for it. idk why, but i'd die on this hill.

he blushes so easy. like so easy. the man is so pale, one compliment or small kiss and his face is red

he's relatively quiet. he's verbal, but doesn't moan very loud. more so whispers, begs, quietly.. especially at first when he's more shy. but when he starts to get desperate, maybe after a lil bit of edging... he whimpers when he cums and thats just the truth

but if you compliment those whimpers.. tell him how much it turns you on.. he'll let them out even more

building on that, he wants to please you. be good for you. know that he's doing it right. in a horny way and also in a kinda emotional like.. she really does want me look at how shes reacting kinda way

loves to watch your face when he's making you cum

the first time you pull his hair hes like oh....

needs a lil extra aftercare after being sub! cause its a very vulnerable thing for him.. but his fav is just to lie there, cuddle you, bonus points if you praise him and tell him how proud you are of him

this was shameless.

cheerio xx

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

if you’re looking for stevie requests can i suggest eddie having to come to terms with steve and reader getting married/announcing theyre expecting and seeing how good he treats her compared to how eddie treated her when they were together (eddie was a fuckboy.

Request by anon.

Angst and fluff. Happy ending for reader.

Steve Harrington x Reader/Past Eddie Munson x Reader.

I'm not going to lie, I flew through writing this. It was just what I needed (to write some angst and sweet Steve content) and the story just flowed out so fast.

❤️

Eddie didn't regret many things in life but losing you was the one that would stick with him for the rest of his life.

He should have treated you like a princess, instead he treated you like shit. It took a while for him to admit it, he strung you along and made you think his feelings were deeper than what they actually were.

In reality he was a typical fuckboy and messed around with your heart.

He was arrogant and cocky, assuming that you would never leave him. He dated other women and never gave a thought to how much it would hurt you.

Eddie assumed that he could come back and forth into your life when he felt like it, indulge in some great sex and then leave.

Then one day he decided to look you up while he was in town after being away for a little while.

Sometimes he travelled with Corroded Coffin doing gigs up and down the country, so when he ended back in Hawkins he figured he'd visit you and have some fun.

You can imagine his shock when he turned up at your house and Steve fucking Harrington answered the door, he was just in a towel and was smiling like the cat had got the cream.

"Harrington? What the fuck are you doing here?" Eddie snaps and there's a sinking feeling in his chest, a sense of knowing what's happening before anything is even said.

"Visiting my girl. What are you doing here Munson? If you're here for any booty call then I'm afraid you'll be disappointed" Eddie is silent for a moment and is about to speak when he hears you calling Steve's name.

You appear at the stairs beaming at Steve, the smile slips from your face when you meet Eddie's gaze.

"Back again huh? What's it been six months since I last heard from you Munson? I don't know what you think I am but I'm not an idiot...or maybe I was but not anymore. I'm with Steve and he treats me right, much better than you ever did. I suggest you leave"

He's stunned by your admission and looks to Steve who's gazing at you with complete love in his eyes. Shit...

The thing is the same love is mirrored in your eyes as you gaze back at Steve, the sight leaves Eddie feeling vaguely sick. He backs away from the door and practically high tails it away.

When he leaves Hawkins later that week, he's sure the next time he comes back this little fling of yours with Steve would be over.

Turns out he couldn't be more wrong.

❤️

Dustin is the one who tells him that you and Steve have gotten married. Steve has proposed on your one year anniversary and the two of you had gotten married in a small ceremony with just close friends and family.

To say it was like a punch to his gut was an understatement. By that time it had been almost a year and a half since Eddie had seen you and when he went back to Hawkins for his usual visit, he expected that you and Steve would be over.

He didn't expect you would be married.

It was hard to see you around town with Steve. You looked so happy and it was finally dawning on Eddie that he had lost something special.

A little while after the wedding you announced that you were pregnant. Uncle Wayne had passed on the news and gave Eddie a look of severe disappointment. Oh Wayne was delighted for you and Steve but he was pissed at Eddie and Eddie didn't blame him.

His uncle had warned him not to mess you around, that you could be special if Eddie just gave you a chance and stopped messing around.

Boy did Eddie regret not listening to the old man. Regretted every way that he had broken your heart and stomped on it and there was no way he could fix things or even hope to win you back.

Because Steve treated you right. Treated you a princess and doted on you. He made you smile and laugh instead of making you miserable.

It was Eddie's fault that he lost you and now he had to deal with the reality of that. You had truly moved on and Eddie was left with an aching heart.

If only he had treated you like a princess instead of treating you like a fool.

It turns out that he was the biggest fool of all for losing you.

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Always Thinking of You

Apologies for yet another interruption of the usual Astarion Ancunin programme. I swear I'm still very into our beloved vampire idiot, it's just that the Transformers brainrot has invaded once more.

Summary: As the base burns down all around him, all Optimus Prime can think about is you. (set in TFP universe)

Optimus couldn't get the look in your optics as you turned away from him out of his processor. You didn't say a word, you didn't need to. He knew you well enough to tell exactly what was on your processor, he knew you were disappointed in him for choosing the humans over Cybertron, he knew you were hurt by his decision to destroy the Omega Lock. Most of all, he knew you were angry that it had come down to this.

Still, he watches as you disappear into the swirling vortex that is the Groundbridge, an emptiness filling his chest. He didn't know where he had sent you, didn't know what the future held for you, but that was for you to figure out. His job here would be done in a moment, and seeing you again…he futilely clung onto that silver of hope, knowing that such a day would never come. He would die here, leaving you alone on this Earth. No, not alone. You would still have the other Autobots, and whoever the Matrix chose to be a Prime next.

A single tear slides down his cheek as he turns to face the console, raising the Star Saber high. In the face of imminent death, he finds that he regrets a rather long list of things. He regrets that he parted ways with Ratchet like this, that he parted ways with you like this. He regrets that he'd never get to bring you to the top of Iacon Tower to see the view from there at night, that he'd never get to see how you'd react to the crystal gardens. He regrets that he'd never be able to feel your touch again, to feel your lips on his, to hear your laugh, see the way your optics light up when you lock gazes with him.

But he has to do this. The Autobot cause is far greater than his personal relationships, the both of you knew that. By doing this, he's ensuring your safety as much as he can, he tells himself, even if it's at the cost of his life. He'd meant it, every time he said he'd give his life for you. He feels his Spark constrict, a pang of guilt for being unable to uphold his promise to you.

As he swings the Star Saber downwards, he whispers one last prayer to Primus. He prays that you'll find someone new, someone better, someone who could give you what you needed, not a failure of a Prime who couldn't even keep his loved ones safe.

Then all he feels is the searing heat, followed by white hot pain. The entire base collapses on him, steel beams twisting in the flames and he feels one run through his abdomen as he crumbles beneath the weight and pain of it all. He can feel Energon leaking out of him as rubble cuts through his armour, opening the wires beneath. Everything hurts, his vision is getting fuzzy, he can barely breathe now. Sparks crawl along his arms where his wiring is exposed and he can't feel his legs anymore.

He never thought this was how he would go out. Sure, he'd thought about martyring himself many times over, before and after you came into his life, but the martyring usually came in the form of an execution by Megatron, not…whatever this was.

He finds his thoughts starting to wander to you as his life ebbs away, wondering what you're doing right now, if you've found a safe spot to hide for the time being. He wonders if you'll mourn his death, or if you'll only remember the time he doomed Cybertron with his own servos and hate him for the rest of your life. He hopes it's the former, it pains him to think about the latter. He's enjoyed all the times the both of you had spent together, especially all the stolen kisses in the dead of night when everyone else was asleep or on patrol. Those moments had made him feel like Orion Pax again, his Spark racing as he snuck out to meet you, tingles running up his backstruts as he held your servo, starry eyed and lost in your optics.

He remembers the time you'd thrown yourself in front of a missile for him, screaming for him to move as you slammed into him, taking the full brunt of the impact. He'd been so afraid for you, panic seizing him as he shouted for a medic, cradling your bleeding form. The Decepticon the missile belonged to made the mistake of trying to finish off what they started, and found themselves on the receiving end of his ion blaster. He had never felt such rage in his life before then, was it the same kind of rage that fueled Megatron's conquest? A shudder runs through him at the thought, would he wage such a terrible war for you? Would you do it for him?

At least 70% of his system has shut down at this point. Everything is muffled and his throat feels dry. Fear wraps its tendrils around him, squeezing tightly as thoughts he believed he'd long locked away hear cloud his processor. He doesn't want to die, he wishes he'd never been made a Prime, he wishes he could have a normal life with you, continue to be friends with Megatron, he wishes he wishes, but this is the reality he's in. He hates how he crumbles beneath the burden he's made to carry, hates the way he breaks down in front of you when the burden overwhelms him, hates the way you're made to carry his burden alongside him. Most of all, he hates the way his burden turned friends on each other and destroyed the planet he called home.

Black is creeping around his vision, threatening to devour the world around him. Just before it consumes him, he pictures your smile, the warmth in your optics, and the cold regret of never being able to see them ever again.

When he next opens his optics, the sound of your voice washes over his audials. There's an edge in your tone, and Ratchet says something but he doesn't quite catch it. Wait…your voice? Is he not one with the Allspark yet? Why would you and Ratchet be one with the Allspark? Had he failed?

"He's awake." The ringing in his audials stop.

"I can see that. I'm not blind." You're still as snarky as ever.

"Good. Then watch him while I go and retrieve a couple of items."

"Tch." He hears pedsteps fade away as you come into view. There's not a hint of anger or hatred in your optics. The only thing he can see in them is worry, concern, and love.

He doesn't know what to say. He didn't prepare for this, he didn't expect any of this. You gently touch his helm, gaze soft as you smile at him.

"You're safe now."

"I'm sorry," he rasps. It's the only thing he can say, the only thing that lingers on the tip of his tongue. He feels the lubricant gathering at the corners of his optics, his chest constricting and you simply hold him in your arms, cradling him.

"I forgive you." You murmur, and he clings to you in response. He was so afraid back then, but the moment you said those words, all his fears melted away.

"Thank you, my spark."

[dronebiscuitbat]

Give me a Reason: Chapter 19 - "Best Freind"

N: U sure ur okay?

Uzi sighed as she crashed into her mattress, body feeling sore and head full of cotton balls. Tessa had just pulled out of the driveway and N was already texting her.

She wasn't sure when they'd actually become friends, maybe somewhere between ghost hunting and getting kicked in the gut she'd somehow made that connection. But she was absolutely not used to someone being this worried.

He'd incessantly asked what had happened for her to get so injured. And she'd incessantly deflected, either saying that it was nothing serious- which was bullshit, it hurt like hell. Or, at the cost of her ego- she lied and said it was an accident.

She just wasn't sure how he'd react to the truth, he'd probably be even more worried then, knowing that someone did this to her on purpose.

Or… he'd laugh at her. Because she was weak, because she'd put herself in a vulnerable position and then couldn't take a little pain an-

N: You can talk to me.

N: No pressure.

N: Just worried about you :(

The new messages stopped that train of thought. No. He wouldn't laugh. Even her chronic cynicism couldn't convince her of that.

Finally, instead of staring at his messages, she responded.

Uzi: Promise you won't say anything? Or laugh.

N: Promise

She sighed, here goes nothing…

Uzi: I got kicked in the stomach, u know how I seemed upset that I knew someone in my math class? It was them.

The reply actually took a minute to come back.

And that was because N had all of air knocked out of him at that reply. She'd been hit? Purposefully? And hard enough to give her a serious injury? Why? She was so nice! And cool!

N: Who?

Uzi: Lizzy, she's a teachers aid now, but she was in my class last year.

Uzi: It's not the first time she's thrown a punch, just caught me off gaurd this time.

Once again, N was floored, a teachers aid!?

N: I'd never laugh at you. But you should report her, she shouldn't be working with students if she thinks that's okay.

Uzi huffed through her nose, a half-laugh that was drenched in a depressing kind of acceptance.

Uzi: It's not like they'd believe me. I'm not exactly a model student.

She sat her phone down and shucked off her jacket and beanie, hissing as her side throbbed dully. This had been such a day…

Her hand instinctually reached for her stash drawer before she even realized, and in another, she was looking at it's false bottom.

As tempting as it was- and it was very tempting. Drug mixing wasn't smart even if one of them was just an over-the-counter pain reliever, and adding a bad trip on an already shitty day didn't sound fun.

So instead she wrapped herself in the biggest, comfiest shirt she could find and grabbed her laptop, maybe she could distract herself with YouTube.

N: What do you mean by that?

Oh right, she'd never mentioned the fact she'd been held back to him, whoops.

Uzi: I was held back a year. I'm 19.

N: Oh wow! You're older then me!

N: Still it can't have been that bad. Failing a class isn't a reason to not belive you.

Uzi smirked, fingers clicking on the keys of her laptop as she tried to find something to watch- settling on an analysis video of one of the shows she was watching.

Uzi: I was high in class and a teacher called the campus police.

It took nearly twenty minutes for him to respond to that.

N:Sorry, got home and had to get up to my room.

N:You were WHAT?!

N: That's a crime!

Uzi: And so is trespassing on JCJenson private property to ghost hunt.

N blushed, now laying on his bed in a grey pajama shirt and pants with dogs printed on them, he held his phone close to his face as he grumbled, she had him there, but that hadn't really felt like a crime at the time…

N: I think you're a bad influence.

N: Also you're deflecting, drugs are bad! And unhealthy!

Uzi rolled her eyes at that, he wasn't the first person to tell her that. But you know what was worse? Dealing with herself unmedicated, without her stash, her head just got fuzzier and fuzzier, and before she knew it… she'd be having a full mental meltdown at the slightest provocation. Which she hated, she never felt like herself during those…

Uzi: Probably. But you see why they won't believe me over miss perfect.

N: Yeah okay, now I'm gonna be worried tho. I don't want you being hurt.

She smiled at that, this boy was so endlessly empathetic, and thankfully, her unloading some not-so-great facts about herself didn't seem to put him off either.

Uzi: Ew, don't worry over me. That's gay.

And yet she couldn't help but make a joke over it.

N: ???

N: how?

N: how does my worry make me gay?

Uzi: It's not manly.

Uzi: Empathy is a girly emotion.

She was snickering to herself, she didn't actually believe that of course, but she could almost see his reaction to it. That stupid, confused and amused smile that he wore when she made a particularly dumb joke.

N: Guess I'm gay then.

N: Cause I'm always going to worry. You're my freind.

N:Best Freind?

Her heart fluttered full of butterflies at that. Is that what he wanted? From her? She was so convinced he'd find someone else to hang out with but here he was, asking to continue this…

Whatever this was.

Uzi: Always knew I'd end up with a gay best freind.

Uzi: u can't borrow my makeup.

N: Awww, but it would look so good on me!

Uzi thought about that for a moment, imagining N with dark eyeshadow, lipstick, and black nails, and she about choked, she wasn't sure if it was funny or weirdly attractive.

Uzi: Dude that mental image.

Uzi: It's so cursed, I about choked.

N: Blursed

N: It's Blessed and Cursed

The conversation continued, the fuzz in her head slowly dissipating even without the assistance of her stash, and it continued late into the night… up until she heard Khan pull onto the driveway at 2am.

Uzi: Oh god, it's 2am. We need to sleep.

N: I didn't realize! We're gonna be zombies…

Uzi: More of a zombie u mean?

N: Yeh. U still in pain? Are u going to sleep ohay?

N: Okay* oof, sleepy fingers.

Even while about to pass out. He was still worried…

Uzi: I'm okay, pain isn't bad. U need sleep N

N: Ok, text you tmmrow, Uzi. Goodnight.

Uzi: Night N.

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 68: Oliver's Speakeasy

Previous > Masterlist

tw: mind control, blood drinking

October 1925

"You have to relax a bit, Oliver," said Roger. "If you're holding your breath while I lace your corset, it will be dreadfully uncomfortable."

Oliver let out his breath and tried to calm his nerves. "I'm not used to corsets. It's not anything I thought I'd ever have to wear."

"That's how I felt as well, but vampires do love their low-necked ballgowns on men and women alike. It's another thing I've become accustomed to -- out of all the adjustments that come with being a vampire's thrall, dresses are minor."

"That's true enough. I can only hope I look acceptable in it."

"Given how your master looks at you, I believe he would think you're fetching in a flour sack." He began to lace the corset tight. "You're quite devoted to pleasing your master, aren't you?"

"I find that I can't help myself. Isn't that the effect of the enthrallment?"

"One effect, certainly. Although after twenty years, I hardly know where the enthrallment ends and I begin."

Oliver nodded. He didn't need twenty years to feel that way. He already felt as though he hardly remembered himself before enthrallment. "You seem very comfortable with your master."

"Comfortable, yes, you could say that. It's my duty to take care of him, and it's an easier life if you keep a sense of humor about it. I suspect I've become fond of him apart from the enthrallment. And I know my master appreciates my efforts." He finished lacing the corset and put a hand on Oliver's head. "Your master appreciates you as well, I'm sure of it."

"I can only hope so."

Roger helped him put the gown on, a turn-of-the-century style done in midnight blue with embroidered roses, one tailored to his exact measurements. He then fastened a delicate gold chain adorned with sapphires around his bare neck. Oliver stared into the mirror. He was dressed like a princess or a wealthy heiress, looking nothing like himself. It was a stark reminder of how much he'd been changed since the night of his capture.

It had only been weeks, and yet his former life was already receding away from him, never to return.

Oliver then assisted Roger in donning his own gown, an ostentatious red number that had very clearly been chosen by Roger's master and not Roger himself, and they made their way up the stairs to their masters' chamber to help them prepare as well.

Alexander and Fitz were lounging on the bed when they entered, but they both stood up, wide-eyed, at the sight of the thralls. Fitz whistled. "Fantastic. Lex, are you sure you want Oliver to go out like that? He's going to turn every head in the place."

"Let heads turn. If they touch my thrall, they'll pay the price," said Lex with startling fierceness. "It's no different from when I went out with you."

Fitz laughed. "Somehow, I don't think Oliver will end up grievously insulting and humiliating a vampire in front of an entire ballroom."

"It's almost a pity," said Alexander thoughtfully. "Come here, Oliver, I wish to take a better look at you."

Oliver stepped closer to his master, who took him by the shoulders and swept over him with an appraising eye. He tilted Oliver this way and that, and took his chin in his hand to meet his gaze. Oliver felt just like that fateful night in the auction house, when Alexander had decided to make his purchase, when Oliver first felt his hunger and desire. Even though his master had taken blood the night before, the undercurrent of hunger and desire was still pressing down on him.

"Master, hold still while I fasten your cummerbund," said Roger, who had started to assist Fitz while Oliver was losing himself in his master. "It's difficult to fasten when you squirm."

"You should be helping me with my attire as well," said Alexander, running his fingers down the side of Oliver's face.

"Yes, sir." Oliver felt as if he were in a dream as he began to help his master prepare, slipping the neatly pressed coat on his shoulders and tying a neat bow around his neck.

Just as the vampires were finishing their preparations, the doorbell buzzed, and Oliver ran down the stairs to answer, careful not to trip in his embroidered slippers. He flung the door open to Miss Lily, dressed in a floral pink frock and tall pink heels, the sort of fashionable thing Oliver saw in department store windows. Behind her, Miriam, also fashionably dressed, poked her head out shyly.

"Oh, Oliver, you look positively dashing! This dress suits you so well," said Miss Lily, cradling his chin in her hands. "Where are your masters? They had better be ready, because I don't want to leave the carriage waiting long."

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my bad luck charm," said Fitz, hanging over the balcony.

"Oh, Fitz, dear, thank goodness you're here. Lex hasn't cracked so much as a smile since you last left, even with this delightful thrall at his beck and call. You'd better have relieved him of his malaise."

"You want me to relieve Lex of his malaise?" said Fitz, sauntering down the stairs. "You might as well ask me to remove the water from the ocean."

"I do see your point," said Miss Lily. She leaned in towards him and whispered conspiratorially. "Has he told you about his plan?"

"His daft plan to get all of us tortured? Naturally. And I support it, of course, because I'm as daft as he is."

Miss Lily sighed. "Of course you do. I expected nothing less."

"My ears are burning. I think you must be talking about me." Lex was walking down the stairs now, with Roger following behind.

"Oh, Roger!" Miss Lily went to him and squeezed him, a fondly dazed smile appearing on the thrall's face. "I do hope you've been well."

"Never better, Miss Lily," he said dreamily. Oliver wondered if Roger had been enthralled by Miss Lily as well. And on that note…

"You look lovely, Miriam," he said politely to the thrall, who was clinging to her madam and looking perhaps a bit uneasy at all the commotion.

Her face lit up in a smile. "Oh, thank you, Oliver. You look very handsome as well!"

Miss Lily clapped her hands. "Now that we've got everyone here, let's all pile into the carriage, shall we?"

Next thing Oliver knew, he was crammed in next to Alexander in the carriage, which was only just barely large enough to hold all six people.

"I've been looking forward to this," said Fitz, shamelessly snuggled up to Alexander's other side. "It's been ages since we've been out to the Tiger's Eye."

"Lex and I were there not so long ago," said Miss Lily. "If Lex gets as drunk tonight as he was then, you're going to have to help me carry him home, Fitz."

"Oh, with pleasure."

"If I might ask, sirs…" said Oliver, fidgeting with his dress hem, "What sort of place is the Tiger's Eye?"

"Why, it's a social club for vampires and their thralls. One of the most popular in the city," said Miss Lily. "Everyone who is everyone puts in an appearance now and then, even recluses like your master, and we all bring our favorite thralls, all dressed to the nines. There's entertainment and stiff drinks and even h'ors doeuvres for the thralls. You'll just love it."

Oliver nodded, far less certain than Miss Lily that he would love it. He'd never frequented bars and clubs, finding them loud and awkward at best. At least he wouldn't be going there alone, but could stay by his master's side.

"Make sure you stay close to me," said Alexander, as though he read Oliver's mind. "Don't entertain any vampires who show an interest in you."

"Yes, sir."

They stepped out of the carriage in front of an unassuming restaurant that seemed as ordinary as any other. Clearly human patrons could be seen through the window, enjoying Italian dishes. "This is the Tiger's Eye, sir?" asked Oliver.

"It's in the basement. The restaurant is simply a front run by the same vampire who owns the club." Alexander pulled him close as they walked to the entrance. "It offers cover, and brings in human money and human blood."

"I see, sir."

A mouth-watering scent filled his nose as the group stood before the maitre'd's station. Miss Lily moved a flap on her dress to reveal a ruby pin, and the maitre'd waved them to the back. They all descended a rickety spiral staircase, the sound of music and laughter growing louder.

The Tiger's Eye club was much larger than the restaurant upstairs. All of the tables were low, with the patrons sitting on piles of cushions. While some of the crowd were wearing contemporary fashions, like Miss Lily and Fitz, a good number of them were dressed in formalwear from decades gone by, much like Oliver's ballgown. More alarmingly, some of the patrons were dressed in very little, as though they were burlesque dancers. It didn't take long for him to realize that these were thralls, kneeling on the cushions and gazing up at their vampiric masters with adoration.

There was a stage at the opposite end of the club where a jazz quartet was playing. Waitstaff flitted among the tables, and like many of the thralls, their outfits were absolutely scandalous. Their glassy eyes and sleepwalking mannerisms indicated that they were heavily enthralled as well, and there were prominent bite scars on their necks and shoulders. In one of the back corners, a well-dressed vampire was drinking from a waitress.

With Alexander, it was sometimes easy for Oliver to forget what sort of situation he was in, and feel like he was perhaps an ordinary servant to an eccentric rich man instead of thrall to a vampire. His current surroundings made him intensely aware of his situation, surrounded by potentially hostile vampires and semi-conscious human slaves. Alexander, of course, wasn't distressed at all, taking in the scene with a smile on his face.

All vampires are dangerous -- that's what Roger had told him.

Nonetheless, Alexander was by far Oliver's greatest chance at safety, and so he shamelessly clung to his master as they walked through the club. He could feel the eyes of leering vampires on him and see their hungry grins. His master's grip tightened. It seemed like an eternity before they arrived at a table with a "reserved" placard on it.

The vampires arranged the cushions and made themselves comfortable, Alexander beckoning Oliver close and pulling him halfway into his lap. Next to them, Fitz flopped over into Roger's lap as the latter sighed.

"The music's good tonight. Who's playing?" Fitz asked.

"They're regulars here. The trumpet player is an older vampire -- I've trained up a few of his thralls, and he has a great sense of humor. The others are all fledglings, more or less…"

Oliver found he couldn't really concentrate on what Lily was saying over the din of the crowd, deafened by the sound of his own heartbeat and blood rushing through his ears.

"Say there, I can't help but notice what an excellent thrall you've brought with you."

Oliver nearly jumped out of his skin. The vampire addressing Lex was a larger man in a checkered suit.

"Thank you," said Alexander with a hint of threat. "He's my most treasured possession." And Oliver's heart twisted to hear himself described that way.

"Where do you get a fine thrall like that? I'm new to the area, just moved from down south, and I'm looking for some fresh blood."

"Oh, then I'm the one you want to talk to," Miss Lily interjected. "I handle conditioning for all of the finest high-end auctions and private sales in the city. I can't promise you'll find one as good as Oliver here, as thralls like him are in short supply, but I'm sure I could help you find something to your taste."

Oliver felt Alexander's hold on him relax as the vampire in the checkered suit started to happily chatter to Miss Lily about thrall sales. He noticed that, in addition to Miriam sitting in her lap, Miss Lily was now surrounded by several other adoring thralls, draped contentedly against her shoulders and over her legs.

"Who are…?"

"The thralls Miss Lily conditions are often drawn to her," said Alexander, toying with Oliver's hair. "This happens whenever we go to a place openly frequented by vampires."

"Good evening, sirs."

Oliver looked up to see a waitress dressed in frills that barely covered her most private areas, her eyes dull and glassy. He blushed and looked away.

"We have many top quality spirits available, as well as an assortment of blood on tap, including rare specialties. If there's anything I can fetch for you, esteemed sirs, it would be my pleasure to serve."

Alexander didn't seem the slightest bit put off by the waitress's plight. "I'll have a dry red, whatever's recommended."

"Certainly, sir."

"A light white wine for me," said Miss Lily.

"I'll take a sidecar," added Fitz. "And whatever beer you have on tap for my thrall."

"Right away, sirs."

"I can order something for you when she returns with the wine," said Alexander, and Oliver realized that the waitress had, of course, only asked the vampires what they wanted.

Oliver looked up again now that the waitress had walked away. "I don't drink, sir, but if I could have some tea, that would --" His eyes went wide and his breath caught in his throat. No, it couldn't be. But it certainly was.

While Oliver had been busy trying not to stare at the waitress, another thrall had arrived to cuddle Miss Lily. She was wearing a highly fashionable teal evening dress with elaborate gray embroidery and fringe, her neck and wrists were dripping with gold, and her red hair was done up in a curled bob. She looked nothing at all like the last time Oliver had seen her, but Oliver knew he'd never forget that face, her fear burned into his mind.

"Emily!"

Previous > Masterlist

Next week: Emily!

Oliver last saw Emily all the way back in the auction house.

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@pokemaniacgemini @jumpywhumpywriter @basica11ywhumped @anoontjecanush

[daydreamerwoah]

Love Through It All (Alternate Ending - Character Death)

tw: mentions of cheating, mentions of divorce; hurt; angst; anger; rollercoaster of emotion; sadness; arguing; crying; mentions of therapy/counseling; kidnapping; violence; guns; injury; main character death

Please read Part 1 for my author notes for the beginning of this story if this is your first time here.

Had someone ask for a different alternate ending so here it is :)

*This picks up from part 13 in italics*

The moment the video stopped, you locked eyes with Simon. Your puffy eyes made him internally broken, but his facial expression hadn't changed, and you didn't know if he was upset that you had gotten revenge for cheating on you... or if it was something else. You wanted to say that it meant nothing. That you were drunk and fucking mad at him... but you couldn't say shit with the tape still over your mouth.

"I have to say, she sounds.. so damn good. Doesn't she?" Jax teased as he asked everyone in the room. Even with Andrei not responding, since he was the one who had his tongue on you, Jax smiled at Simon like he had won or something, "How does it feel?" He walked and stood behind Simon as he leaned down so his face was almost next to his, looking at you, "Tell her." He demanded.

Simon's eyes never strayed away from yours as you continued to cry. The look on his face hadn't really changed, but his eyes told you exactly how he felt. The regret that ran through his soul.... he wished he could been a better man; a better husband. You didn't deserve any of this.. yet you stayed. You had wanted to work on your marriage even after the ugly truth came out. It was his fault, and he would forever kill himself over it. He would be grateful if you ever forgave him, promising to give you the entire world and more after he so much tore yours apart by cheating.

"I love you," he lowly said, making you cry even more. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart... for everythin'."

"Satisfying, isn't it?.. Finally realizing your mistakes?"

Simon finally tore his eyes away from you and looked at Jax, "Let her go."

He paused, acting as if he was thinking about something, "I thought about it," he teased, "but see... I can't do that. She's knows far too much... much more than our girl Williams," he joked - a terrible one that made both you and Simon shoot him the deadliest glare.

He raised his gun up, pointing it at you, making your eyes widen.

"Let her go, Jax," Simon raised his voice, "This is between me and you."

"Oh, it's not just me," he chuckled, "But I guess it would be easier to take you out first." He moved his gun to point it at Simon's temple.

You yelled through the tape and thrashed around as you tried to get out of the restraints. Your skin was probably raw at how much you rubbed at the ropes. You wanted to beg him not to shoot your husband.. you even tried to. But it was pointless.

"Say goodbye to your wife... Lieutenant."

Time felt like it slowed down as you and Simon looked at each other. He looked angry and sad, but no doubt love. He loved you for everything you had given him, everything you had done for him. And if this was the last time he'd see you... then so be it. He was ready... and you didn't want that. You weren't ready to leave him; to say goodbye.

The wails that came from your muffled lips had you choking on the saliva that bubbled up in your throat. You wanted to vomit so bad.

"Close your eyes love," Simon told you. You didn't want to. God you didn't want to. But you couldn't stomach the thought of seeing him die right in front of you, so you shut your eyes tight and waited for the loud popping sound of Jax's gun to go off.

BANG!

The moment the loud pop echoed in the room, your eyes opened as you looked at the scene in front of you. And god, did you begin to wail as you saw your husband. He was slumped over in the chair. A bullet wound at his temple. Jax, who had taken a step toward you as he smiled, made you thrash in your restraints forcefully.

"When they find you... tell them Makarov said hello," he said as he snatched the tape off of your mouth. You couldn't help the loud cry that left your lips as you looked at him with pure hatred.

"Fuck you!!" you screamed, but it didn't even faze him.

He and the rest of the men walked out of the room, Andrei giving you a malicious wink before he shut the door. You couldn't help the loud cries that continued to come from your mouth as you sat there and looked at Simon.

He was dead.

God, you wanted to fucking die with him. The pain of knowing he was murdered all because of something that was bigger than this would haunt you forever.

20 minutes later, heavy footsteps rushed through the door, and you almost thought it was Jax and his men again until you realized that Price, Johnny, and Kyle had come in with their guns drawn.

But it was too late.

The moment they saw how distraught you were and looked at their comrade with his head hanging forward, they knew. The fucking knew that they were too late in rescuing both of you. Johnny kneeled down in front of Simon, putting his fore and middle finger against his neck to check for a pulse like he'd find one. "Fuck," he said as he looked up at the other two men.

Kyle rushed over to you and began to cut away at the ropes that tied you up, and the second you were free, you leaped out of the chair and ran to Simon, wrapping your arms around his neck as you cried. He was cold.. ice cold damn near, but you held onto him like he would somehow take a breath of air.

But you knew he wouldn't, yet you still continued until Price tried to pull you off of him.

"Y/n," he softly said.

"No!" you yelled, "He can't leave me! He can't- He's gotta come back. We have to work through this! Please John... please wake him up!"

Fuck.

His sad eyes eventually met yours as he frowned, "I'm so sorry."

************************************************************************

Someone once told you in the past to read about the 5 Stages of Grief. You thought it was silly. What did you have to grieve about, when all you wanted was to be happy with your husband? You didn't think about that kind of stuff, especially when it came to him. But hell, did you wish you had picked up on a few things at least.

Denial.

Even with Simon being taken away when the police and corners arrived, you still couldn't believe he was gone. It was like you were waiting for him to come out of every corner to surprise you - like he did at the club. The first couple of days were the worst, as you would call his phone only to hear it ring on the nightstand next to you. The day of the funeral, you almost passed out twice from how everything hurt (physically and emotionally).

Anger.

The anger that flowed through your soul was more than knowing Simon cheated on you. It was more than knowing you cheated on him. You wanted to kill Jax. You wanted to make him pay for taking the love of your life. But you knew that was a crazy thought. It still didn't stop you from breaking things in your apartment - the glass of wine you were drinking out of, the vase on the side table. Days after the funeral, you quit your job because you couldn't stomach the thought of leaving your house because you were afraid and angry that Jax or Andrei would kidnap you again.

Bargaining.

You had no one to bargain with except whatever angels were up above to bring your husband back. And bargaining, you did. You begged and begged and begged like it would make a difference. You had even bargained for the universe to take you instead of Simon; to switch places with you.

Depression.

The worst phase you felt. You wanted to die. You thought about it so many times. It didn't make you feel better when you continued to go to counseling - for different reasons now. You just wanted to be with your husband again. The plaguing thoughts of taking a bunch of pills and never waking up crossed your mind so much during that phase.

Acceptance.

When things finally settled - and fuck did it take a while for that to happen - the only thing that had changed was knowing Simon wasn't going to come back by some miracle. Every other day (if not every day), Price, Johnny, or Kyle would come to check on you, along with Ava, who constantly brought dinner just to make sure you would eat.

It was heartbreaking. Simon was gone. It wasn't like you two had gone through the divorce, but he was gone from you forever.

But what hurt the most was the note you found in your husband's belongings when Johnny brought them from his office. Even he felt weird that they had cleaned out his space there, saying it wasn't right.

It was crushing to read it, and you cried in Johnny arms for a long time that he ended up putting you to bed and calling Ava to stay with you because he had to leave.

The note was written a few days before you were kidnapped. Simon once again apologized for everything that he did, the pain he caused you, and the deep love he expressed to you. He went into detail about his feelings and how he would die for you if it ever came to it.. Fuck it was like he had predicted his own death or something.

Why did life have to be so fucking cruel? Why were things the way they were? Just because you had accepted that he was gone didn't mean you were ever going to be over it. But you could only hope that somewhere up in the skies he was watching over you.

Not going to lie.. this was hard to write because I teared up proofreading this but let me know how you all like it!!

Taglist: @kalypsoox @fruitymoonbeams-blogz @kylies-love-letter @xrosegoldwolfx @linaaaaa654 @jessicab1991 @darkravenqueen98 @yazyazali @thychuvaluswife @chloeforde @cownini @ssc7514

[howlsofbloodhounds]

You know, I think Killer getting reunited with his brother after his escape with Color would be really interesting, whether it goes well or horribly wrong.

If it goes well, it would be really interesting to see how Something New Paps deals with Killer not really being his brother (though I am of the idea that he'd love Killer for Killer as well. I just also think it would mean him grieving his brother yet again. This time knowing he'll never have his brother back). It would also be cool to see how he'd get along with the Epic Sanses. I also really would love to see explored what his tentative new dynamic with Killer might be, and how that may change Killer's dynamic with the others too (would he be less codependent with Color with Paps in the picture? Or would he just become dependent on both?).

If it goes horribly, well, it would be interesting to see exactly how horribly. Would Killer panic enough to kill him again? How would he react to that after so long? Would Killer even believe that that's his brother? Would he just deny everything and turn away and then be haunted by the possibilities forever?

I just hhhhhhhh. I've been thinking about them so much. I've never see content about them explored, ever, and the possibilities are giving me brainrot

Yes! This is the stuff I want to see with killer from this fandom. Not more of the same! Let me watch these doomed siblings suffer or heal. The angst having to grief the person you never knew you lost while they’re right in front of you, looking at you, looking through you—only it’s something else with your loved one’s face. Uncanny valley im telling you.

I personally think Papyrus will have a difficult time actually accepting that his brother is gone. Hed subconsciously see signs in Killer—same smile, same twist of the corner of the mouth even if the nature of the smile is different from when Sans told an awful pun, because now Killer is smiling like that when he tells horrible stories he seems to think aren’t horrific at all.

I think how this reunion unfolds definitely depends on the exact situation. If Killer is still trapped under Nightmare or not, or if Color has rescued him.

And if Papyrus has any memory of what Killer did to him and everyone else—because Killer did spend years upon years murdering and horrifically torturing Papyrus and all the others as if they were nothing more than toys.

Killer could look at him, and all Papyrus could see is that empty, dead eyed look as he screams and cries while Killer breaks his bones. As if Killer didn’t recognize who Papyrus was, and if he didn’t care who he was.

And Papyrus, how his reactions during those times could’ve affected Killer. He was in unimaginable pain, terror, and confusion. Hatred and anger and spite are understandable reactions. What are some things he might’ve said to Killer during these moments that stuck with Killer? Begging and pleading, cursing and screaming? Attempting to get Sans to “remember who he is”?

As the world Reset around Killer, did others eventually start changing too? Even if only in small easily missed ways, even if they forgot by the next Reset. Chara and Killer were always in search of something new, after all.

Could Killer trust himself at all around Papyrus? Or would he immediately start thinking about how he has killed him before, how Papyrus could be here for revenge or even worse—for Sans.

Would some part of Killer despise Papyrus for being weak enough to forgive him, just like he always did for the human? Would Killer feel the need to kill Papyrus again—believing it’s what it has to do to prevent something even worse (Stage 4), or perhaps out of panic as you mentioned, or even that anger at Papyrus or just the unimaginable confusion and stress and pain that Papyrus’ presence brings (Stage 3).

Would Papyrus’ presence disjoint Killer’s “placement” in time.

Would seeing him make Killer think he’s back in the Underground with Chara, and thus Papyrus is another enemy he has to deal with. Would he be unable to accept that the Papyrus in front of him is his Papyrus, or would he think it’s just one Papyrus out of a gazillion more, and therefore not worth wasting energy on?

I can definitely see Stage 1 being reluctant to actually be around Papyrus. Not because he hates him or is disgusted by his “weakness” and not even because he thinks he has to kill Papyrus—although he’s very aware that some parts of him very likely do think those things—not only because he can’t trust his own mind, his own desires, but also because he just..feels horrible around Papyrus.

He idealized this image of Papyrus and the life he thinks they used to have, but he has changed. He has done a lot of things. He couldn’t even accept a hug from Papyrus for very long without pushing him away in tears. I think he’d definitely benefit from having his brother back in his life, although I doubt it’d be a very frequent thing.

I can see many instances where guilt, fear, and shame just leads to him trying to “hide” from his emotions in Stage 2, which leads to the usual avoidance behaviors. Which may also lead to him subconsciously blaming Papyrus for being able to have any effect on him at all—given how Stage 2 views it when situations and people are able to make him “feel” anything. As if they are attempting to control him.

So many interesting possibilities—especially given how much Papyrus may know. How much knowledge is he working off?

{ @stellocchia }

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

*shaking cup* freebie? Freebie for the poor? (Your writing is great and I hope you're doing okay :))

"He saved my life" was the magic sentence. Ordinarily, Erik might have taken it personally having a human pull a shot gun on him but- context mattered.

Your elderly grandfather had no way of knowing WHY he was with you. Or how he knew you. Not until you explained what happened. Still. It took... restraint.

It was... curious though. Seeing this part of your life. The fear and the pride on their faces when they hugged you to them- relieved to see you alive still. "Come on son," your grandfather said. "We'll load the car. Let the girls get supper on the table." And he followed- not sure what else to do.

"Be nice," you call.

"I'm always nice," your Grandfather called back, "it's the General you gotta worry about."

Erik smiled just a little as the old man popped your trunk open and shook his head at the chaos, "You'd think she lives in here, good grief."

"She does, for the most part," Erik snorted, "long hours. And she never knows what she's going to need."

Paul shook his head and hefted a box into place, "You have questions, don't you, son?"

Erik regarded him for a moment. There was a tense moment in the beginning. But... after that, he'd been treated like a friend. Like you'd just dragged any other misfit home. "Why does she do this?" he asked.

The other man adjusted his glasses and glanced towards the door. Erik can see him weighing what to say. Not looking for a lie, but looking for a way to tell the truth that respects your dignity. He can feel an ugly story coming, the way he can feel violence. "Because," Paul said, shoulders sagging, "when she looks at those children, she sees a best friend she couldn't help. Because by the time she knew what happened it was too late." He pushed himself off the side of your car and went to his tool chest, pulling a drawer open and extracting a framed picture.

It's old. You're there with another little girl. He's know you anywhere- it's the eyes. And the smile. You have your arms around each other. Beaming on the beach. "Allie's parents just... disappeared her. She was scared. Afraid no one would help her. And by the time Y/N managed to track her down again- it- she was dead. Someone just beat her to death."

Erik looked at the man in front of him and tried to keep control of his temper. It's not his fault.

"Y/N was so angry," Paul said, shaking his head. "To this day, I don't think she believes in god... For years we thought she was going to kill herself trying just to numb the pain. Pills mostly. Parties. But... one day she just dropped out of sight. Just was gone. We got phone calls and emails sometimes. She sounded good. just busy. Distracted."

Paul smiled ruefully, "We figured she was on a bender and tracked her down. We were gonna haul her little ass to rehab so help us god- and we found her handing out blankets and food to homeless mutant kids, telling a bunch of bigots to- well. You've met her."

Erik chuckled, "Yes, I'm familiar with her vocabulary." He handed Paul the photo back and studied him, "They're still looking for her."

"I figured." He exhaled slowly. "I don't want to have to bury my granddaughter. But, we know- she may not believe in God but, he'll hold her in his hands anyway."

"Paul-"

"If anything happens," he said, putting the photo away, "we're going to lay her next to Allie. We learned a long time ago to hope for the best and plan for the worst. My girl can work miracles but she can't stop bullets."

[danieyells]

Taiga's mental deterioration is awful. It's terrible. To lose parts of oneself, for Romeo to lose parts of someone he loves so dearly, it's painful and terrifying and if he could make a wish with another demon he might just wish for him to be healed. He was never normal in the time that he knew him. But once upon a time Taiga spoke and looked around the world with coherency, Taiga took interest in things beyond hunger and sporadic, violent fascination. Once upon a time Taiga did more than eat and gamble and sleep in a cycle that he sometimes was very aware of.

And yet.

And yet one of the things Taiga never seemed to forget was Romeo himself. Others' faces and names faded away or never told hold to begin with, other parts of his life were gone to the neverending hunger within him, but Lulu, Lulu remained. If Taiga heard Romeo's name, even without his nickname, there was never any question who he was. His face was always as beautiful as he last saw him. His voice was always so loud and he always said too much. He was as naïve as the day they met and as greedy as he'd ever been. Taiga knew Romeo. He always knew Romeo.

It was awful, in his eyes. That whoever Taiga has been before he met him had been washed away. That Taiga could barely remember who he was and where he'd come from and what brought him joy beyond risk and profit and blood in his mouth and the presence of someone who'd stayed with him so long that Romeo used to wonder if no one had ever done so before.

And yet.

Romeo had always been a greedy bastard. No one knew that like Taiga did.

And as much as he hated to see Taiga fade into something almost beastial, the part of him he buried down tight, the part of him which would have rather cling to valuables even if they would get him killed, the vicious, hungering greed watched on with delight.

The greed held its hand out to this slowly forming monster to be sniffed and remembered and relied on and loved and wanted and needed and to be the only thing left in his head.

Part of him saw Taiga forget everything but remember him with such clarity it was as if Romeo's existence was his own and wished he could help him tear everything else away. Faster, forget faster. Forget more. Care about less.

Until all that Taiga knew or saw or desired or remembered or lived for what Romeo Scorpius Lucci.

Isn't it what he deserved? And isn't it what would make Taiga happy, too?

It was inevitable, as he saw it.

It was inevitable, as Taiga had told him he would never, ever forget him.

If Taiga ever forgot Romeo, what would be left would simply not be Taiga, and Romeo should take it out.

Perhaps Taiga had meant it as a warning, for fear that he would harm Romeo if he ever forgot his face. He had trained him to be able to hold a gun to him, to be ready to pull the trigger in case there was no recognition in Taiga's eyes and he bore teeth at him. To shoot for his heart. To think he should protect himself from whatever took over and used Taiga's face to threaten Romeo's wellbeing.

But to Romeo it was something more. Not about what would become of Taiga but who he was now.

Romeo mourned every memory and thought Taiga lost. Even if Taiga didn't care to do so, every lost bit of someone he loved so dearly was worth mourning.

And yet he watched. Closely. What was left. How much was left. How much was him--and how much was not--and how much would still be him in the end.

Someday, perhaps, if they could not reverse what had become of Taiga's mind, all that would be left for him would be Romeo. And perhaps to continue to love him and to hold him would be to take advantage of that.

But Romeo had killed and stolen and manipulated and more. He was not a man of morals, but of profits and a great deal of sickening, clawing love in the form of greed.

Perhaps someday Taiga would become empty of anything but Romeo, and Romeo would hold him and care for him and love him regardless, in spite of it, for it. Why shouldn't he love someone who thought only of him and felt only for him, whose heart beat and mind buzzed and body moved for him and nothing else? Even if Taiga's sense of self eroded, if his sense of Romeo remained what was not to be loved?

Perhaps after that he would begin to forget Romeo as well. And until then Romeo would love him and use him. Until then he was still valuable. Until then he was still Taiga.

Until he was no longer Taiga, who lived for Romeo according to the greed that made his love into a room full of gilded cages, Romeo would keep him for himself.

And the moment he stopped being Taiga would be when Romeo's heart truly broke.

And what choice would he have, before he lost more attachment to the one person who would attached to nothing but him, to use the gift he'd been given?

That attachment would be so strong, that love so intense, that there wouldn't be blood or gore or anything at all.

There wouldn't even be a world left to mourn Taiga or Romeo or to suffer an existence without them. That love, that passion, would be enough to end everything there ever was or would be in this world. Or maybe that was just Romeo's delightful fantasy, that the world would be reduced to rubble shooting off in a million brilliant directions in space because he simply loved one idiot too much.

One idiot who loved him too much.

If not for him. None of this would have ever happened. He followed Taiga to Darkwick and if he had any direction when they left he would follow him in that direction too.

And if Taiga died, who would he be if he didn't go with him?

And Romeo, in all of his greed, would simply have to take everything with them.

Everything.

[bicheetopuff]

You ever think about what was going through izuku's head whenever he saw katsuki warming upto the other students in 1-A (particularly Kirishima), respecting their abilities, and accepting them as friends (before his own relationship with katsuki started to develop)

I know obviously he would have been happy that katsuki is making true friends, but a part of him must have felt so insecure about himself and wondered why katsuki didn't want to accept him.

I also feel like the moment during the final exams when katsuki said he'd rather lose than work with deku must have hurt izuku atleast a little because he saw katsuki working with others during the cavalry battle or during the usj incident. He even acknowledges that kirishima has become katsuki's friend.

I’m sure he’s glad that Katsuki is making friends, but at the same time I think a part of him is kind of feeling left out about it, considering how he doesn’t acknowledge it until it’s absolutely dire while still making it clear that he noticed. I feel like it could a similar case as Ochako’s, feeling silently jealous and hating the feeling because he wants to be happy for him. I feel like that’s somewhat confirmed by this interview that he did in 2019 when Heroes Rising was about to come out.

(This translation is different than the one I linked, but are essentially saying the same thing)

And considering the way he was drawn in the panel where he made this choice, I’d say yeah, he definitely feels some sort of insecurity.

He takes both Katsuki and Uraraka’s words as “he doesn’t want to be rescued by *me* specifically” which is sad because I feel like it’s clear that that isn’t what Katsuki intended when he said what he said. Like, yes he probably wouldn’t have liked to have been Izuku to reach out to him again, but I doubt he’d let his petty grudge let him stay in All Mights way in a situation like that. I think he wanted him to not follow him because Deku was already in a fucked up state and would’ve been made a liability fairly quickly, especially considering how Deku had already been targeted by the league of villains specifically before this. Katsuki is brash, but he’s not dumb.

In the case of their final exam, I actually don’t think Izuku was hurt because Katsuki would rather work with other people, I think he was more hurt that Katsuki was willing to lose at all, under any circumstance, because that’s just not the Katsuki he knows.

(Some of these panels are edited together, so if they don’t feel like they’re in order, that’s why)

Deku has always had this unfaltering faith in Katsuki. Faith that ran so deep, that Katsuki saying something otherwise, legitimately pissed him off enough to punch him in the face and lecture him. He doesn’t want to hear it because he doesn’t want to believe it. It has nothing to do with how Katsuki feels about him but more how Katsuki maintains his own values, so that he can continue to look up to him without regret. You know why?

All Might is the worlds Symbol of Peace, but…

Katsuki is Izuku’s Symbol of Victory.

And I think Katsuki started to treat his urge to win differently, especially after his and Izuku’s final exam. It seemed like he was more willing to act like Izuku when he needed to, just like Izuku acted like him when he knew it’d benefit him. Willing to work as a team with people and sacrifice himself a little more. Because he literally can’t let Izuku one up him in anything. Hence why he died for no other reason than to prove a point. That he’s willing to do anything to win even if that means breaking himself.

(There’s like three panels I want to put here but I can’t cuz I’m running out of space and want to keep space for the last point I wanna make.

Basically, just reread the end of DvK2, Class A v Class b joint training arc, and the PLW arc. If you care that much lmao.)

It almost seemed like that even though he wanted to keep winning to Deku, he didn’t really want Deku to lose him at the same time. Which is why we never saw them fight again. Neither of them wanted to win or lose, which was why their training was always basically just Deku letting Katsuki get the best of him, because let’s be real… Izuku could’ve beaten Katsuki physically, easily. But he can’t stand seeing Katsuki lose, so he never let him. And I’m pretty sure Katsuki was aware of that, considering how his internal monologue in the PLW arc was saying.

Anyways…

Katsuki has to win, but also, Deku can’t lose. That’s basically the conclusion they came to terms with silently.

Literally the definition of “Person A fell first, but Person B fell harder,” but y’know… they’re just being silly. What they want for themselves are contradictory from what they want for each other, and it makes it so that they simultaneously want both of them to be the best version of themselves.

It also kind of mind fucks you when you think about how Katsuki strived to be the hero that Deku already saw him as, while Deku did the same thing, but both were kind of in the opposite direction/a direction neither of them really wanted the other to take… Katsuki believed that Deku’s urge to save was his biggest strength while simultaneously being the reason for his lack in success because he stopped taking himself into account if it meant saving someone, which is true, while Deku believed Katsuki’s biggest strength was his urge to win while also simultaneously believing that it was the reason for Katsuki’s downfall in some cases because it inflated his ego too much and he’d be willing to do anything to win just to protect that ego… which is also true… ugh they hurt my brain

This post ended up being a lot longer than I intended, oops

[yuri-is-online]

Listening to True Crime podcasts and while I know the timescale between Yuu getting sent to the Shadow Realm Earth and Grim starting the Apocalypse in your AYuu is very short, but I couldn't help but think about all the True Crime Podcasts and hot takes about a Yuu in a High Profile Relationship (Vil, Leona, Malleus, Kalim etc) going missing, all the theories and comments and then just Yutu finding them when trying to do research on his parents' relationship. I can't tell if he'd be morbidly fascinated by an outsider's perpsective on what had happened to his parents, or sickened by people talking about this awful moment for content. Especially the gosspiy judgy ones.

I like True Crime podcasts myself but lord there are so many creators that are entering the space and continuing to lower the bar for humanity as a whole. The time scale is short sure, but it's not like that would stop anyone from yapping on social media. I think how they feel would depend on the Yutu?

Malleus! Yutu doesn't like people. He's sort of spared by Briar Valley not being talked about much by outsiders but still. The human consort of one of the most powerful mages in the world goes missing? There's going to be some judgy people saying things, it makes him sick to his stomach to read about. These people don't know his family at all and because of what happened he barely does either. Now that everyone is in the same boat he wonders if they would take back what they said, if they remembered saying it at all.

Leona! Yutu is sort of split between morbid curiosity and disgust. General consensus is that his father was super popular with Magishift fans and certain pockets of the Sunset Savannah but he didn't become a beloved royal figure until after his death. The press around him marrying Yuu is mixed, Yutu is absolutely sitting there with a (≖_≖ ) look on his face reading about people simultaneously shitting on his dad for marrying a commoner while celebrating that he'd never be king. Like... Cheka exists that was never going to happen? And then there's all the stuff screaming about how Yuu ran away from an abusive relationship, or Leona killed them, or aliens are real and kidnapped his parent. I think he likes reading those ones because of how absurd they get while being eerily close to the truth.

Kalim feels like someone who would be known for gushing about his partner. He loves his partner and everyone knows it, when they go missing it's a tragedy. His Yutu probably has the easiest time actually learning things about his parent's relationship. Kalim doesn't mention doing interviews often, but he's the sort to talk readily about the people he loves so while there are some crazy people it's easy enough for him to filter those out and just find his dad talking about how excited he is to be a father and how lucky he is to have Yuu.

Vil. My lovely fairest Vil. I have to start thinking about this for his post and his headcannons but Vil in general seems to have good PR. He isn't as popular as Neige because he lacks the every man/boy next door appeal, but he's still extremely popular. What fucks him over is that he keeps his personal and professional life very separate so when Yuu goes missing people take this as their permission to say everything that has been on their mind ever since he announced he was dating. His Yutu has a really strong will, so he sees those posts and he wants to vomit but he keeps a polite smile and moves on down the line looking for more information. He doesn't find it.

[o-sachi]

─── A Letter for @strawchocoberry ✦

If you have received this, it means you signed up for Sachi's Selfship Event !

Thank you for requesting, ml. Thank you for hyping me up and the silly stuff that I write. YOU ARE THE BEST! I love you and your amazing brain. Mindy lore goes hard by the way. My ship. I hope I do your ship justice mehehe.

✉️ Attachment: ABCs with Michael Kaiser

[C] Comfort Honestly, he's a bit lost with how to comfort you at first. But he knows first hand how it feels to be down and not have someone there to support him. So he does his best; he asks you what you want and what you need. If you want space, an ear to listen, or comforting words; Mihya will try his hardest to give you exactly that. Although, most of the time he'll comfort you through physical touch rather than words. Oh, and he leaves a lot of surprise gifts for you to find so that he can see that smile on your face again.

[D] Dates He takes you out on dates as if it's always your first; Mihya always strives to impress you after all. One for theatrics, he usually takes you out on fancy dinner dates or shopping sprees. But if you insist on a more "toned down" kind of date, he won't mind either. BUT, he will always find a way to spice it up. Movie date? He has a big ass projector rented for the two of you. That or maybe he takes you to one of those drive thru movie screenings (the old fashioned kind). He will ALWAYS give you princess treatment.

[G] Gifts Like I said, one of his love languages is gift giving. He was definitely deprived of this kind of love as a child, so he makes sure you'd never feel the same as he did when he was younger. He has the thinking of, "money can be earned again," so he's not shy about splurging on you. He also likes receiving things from you—doesn't matter if it's a small or huge gift. Mihya only cares that it came from you and you thought about it with him in mind. A gift he has given you before is a shiny golden locket with a picture of a blue rose inside. And a gift he likes receiving from you are the baked goods that you make every week. He finds it extra thoughtful.

[I] Intimacy You form a deeper connection because he finds himself drawn to your genuine personality. He was fully expecting you to fall for him at first because he was a famous football star and he had good looks. So imagine his surprise when he found out that you weren't that simple. You may have fallen first, but he fell harder. And it was all thanks to the support and presence you had in his life. You were the thing he never knew he needed. However, he's quite aggressive with romance—wanting everything to be fast paced. But that's mostly because he feels safe and secure with you. He's just that sure of you.

[J] Jealousy Normally he'd be on high alert if he knows someone is trying to get into his territory. But you've reassured him enough to a point that he feels fine most of the time. Just don't do it on purpose or tease him about it because he'll begin to overthink (poor guy). But if he does get jealous, he's the type to confront the other person directly. There is no beating the bush with this man, especially when it comes to you. Although, I feel like you'd be the more jealous one with the relationship... y'know, having to deal with the massive Kaiser fan club. But he tells you time and time again that you're the only one for him.

[N] Nicknames So shameless that he calls you darling and sweetheart right off the bat. Even when you were doing your research on him and his team—he'd call you those names behind the scenes. It pissed you off at first, honestly. But as you two got into a relationship and things got serious, Mihya started calling you petnames in German like Schatz and Liebe. To him, those feel more meaningful, thus you deserve them. He doesn't mind any name that you call him... just don't call him by his actual name or he'll start pouting.

[T] Time Apart You think that you have it worse because, of course, he's always the one away for football, right? He'll even tease you about being so "clingy" whenever you'd hop on a call together. But, deep down, he is suffering more than you are. He'll try to laugh it off though. Mihya also buys you plushies that you can have on your bed. He says it might help you remind you of him (he also spritzes a bit of his cologne on them before giving it to you because he's sneaky like that). He'll definitely send you a shit ton of pictures of him and the places he has been going to. Be sure to send some back or else he will bug you for them!

[W] Wildcard He actually likes listening to you yap about whatever it is you're currently reading or writing at the moment. He'll look at you the entire time and nod along. You know he's actually listening because he asks questions. Random thought, but you two have definitely done the ribbon-bicep trend before.

[X] XOXO I feel like he enjoys reading in his free time hence the reading glasses. Sometimes, when you're settled in and reading something, he'll sit down beside you and read along with his own book. You two just sit there together—appreciating each other's presence silently. Yeah, he has started reading A LOT more because of this. He really just wants you to feel that he's into the things you're into.

[Y] Yin & Yang You two are kind of opposites? Like I said, he's very aggressive when it comes to love while you're softer and more gentle. But it works out because you balance each other—leading the relationship at a moderate pace. However, you complement each other based on your "maintenance." You like getting princess treatment and he would happily fulfill that for you. But you also like to give the same energy back. And for Mihya, someone who has lived for most of his life with below the bare minimum, your love was something that blew him away. That's what got him hooked on you tbh.

Thank you for participating. I hope you like it :3

Want to participate? Give this a read.

o-sachi © 2024 pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

[pastelwitchling]

I'm so happy you're still taking malex prompts! Could you do something where Michael's abandonment issues rise to the surface? Thank you! Love your work.

@joaneteporis

***

“How long’ll you be gone?”

Alex looked over his shoulder at Michael from where he was packing the last of his sweaters into his black suitcase. Michael hated that suitcase. They were in their bedroom, Michael sitting on the edge of their bed, still naked from when he’d woken up a few hours ago, partly hoping that if he never got out of bed, never showered or dressed, then Alex would change his mind and climb back into the sheets and Michael’s arms. He’d been hoping this stupid trip would be canceled.

Yet Alex sat before him, the tips of his hair still damp from the late shower he’d managed despite Michael’s attempts to delay him with trails of kisses down his body. He’d been giggling breathlessly then, and he smiled just as easily now at the false indifference.

He put his last sweater in before gripping Michael’s knee and kissing it, his hand stroking Michael’s thigh soothingly.

“Just three days,” he promised. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Michael held out a hand. “I want collateral.”

Alex burst into laughter, and Michael tried hard not to smile at the sound. “What could I possibly give you?”

“Your phone.”

“And how would I get in touch with Ramos without my phone?” he said, squishing his cheek against Michael’s knee. “Or you?”

He dropped his hand. “Damn it.���

Alex’s smile widened. “You actually think I’d come back for my phone and not you?”

“I know you’d come back for me,” Michael said defensively, and could hear the threat in his voice himself. I know you will come back for me. Or else I’d come after you and never let you out of my sight. “I just need a little insurance.”

“So you don’t trust me.”

“I don’t trust our life, Alex,” he corrected. “I don’t trust that something else won’t happen when I’m not there.”

“I’m keeping my location on,” he said, more softly. “I told you I’d tell you when I got there. Besides, I’m not heading anywhere alone, this is another branch of agents, Guerin.” He pressed one more gentle kiss to Michael’s calf and turned back to his suitcase. “No evil aliens are taking me away this time.”

Alex shut his suitcase and zipped it up, the sounds like nails in a coffin, and Michael’s heart sank into his stomach. It was really happening. Alex was really going to leave again, and there was nothing Michael could do about it. He was going to be sick, he couldn’t breathe.

Alex picked up his suitcase, Michael’s hand outstretched halfway between them, wanting to pull Alex back by his sleeve and keep him there and to call his name and show him how scared he was so that he never walked out that door. Alex had talked to him when Eduardo had asked him to train a bunch of recruits outside of Roswell, had told him that he wouldn’t go if it really bothered his husband, and Michael – the absolute dumbass – had said that he would be fine, it would be okay, that Michael might get a little nervous about it, but that Alex should go if that was what he needed to do. If he promised to return.

He'd been regretting every word since. He should’ve said no. He knew that there was no way Alex would begrudge him for it; Alex loved him, he would’ve done anything to keep Michael happy, and Michael was only happy when he had Alex in his line of sight –

Alex was suddenly in his space, crawling into Michael’s lap and straddling him on the edge of the bed, Michael’s legs the only thing keeping him from falling. He hugged Michael’s shoulders and buried his face in the crook of Michael’s neck, slipping a hand into his curls and holding on.

“Shhh, baby,” Alex whispered, completely calm. The darkness around Michael’s vision slowly cleared, and he saw Alex’s suitcase leaning against the wall. He had clearly noticed Michael’s impending panic and had wanted to shut the suitcase and put it aside so that he could focus his attention on his husband instead. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

Michael’s hands were still trembling when he reached up to hug Alex back, gripping fistfuls of his shirt and squeezing him to his chest.

“Breathe,” Alex murmured over and over, his breath warm on Michael’s ear. “Breathe, beautiful.”

“I’m – I’m trying,” he gritted out, shoving his face hard into Alex’s shoulder and trying to breathe in his scent, to remind himself that Alex was right here, in his arms. That they were husbands now, and had beaten the monsters that had come for them together, and they were free. That Alex was his, and no one was ever taking him away again.

After a long few minutes, Michael’s shuddering had ceased, but Alex was still rubbing his back and breathing softly against his neck.

“Just breathe,” he said softly, reaching into his back pocket. He pulled his phone out. “I’m right here.”

Michael didn’t want to let go of him. “W-What’re you doing?”

“Calling Eduardo,” he said, dialing. “I’m canceling.”

Michael frowned. He knew what he wanted to say; he wanted to say that he was sorry, but that he really couldn’t do this; he couldn’t be away from Alex, he couldn’t let him go, he couldn’t send him off and act like it wasn’t killing him.

But he caught Alex’s hand anyway.

“No,” he said, even as he felt someone else say the word, even as his brows furrowed and he squeezed Alex’s fingers. “N-No, I’m – I’m okay, I’m fine.”

“Michael,” Alex pulled back enough to see his face, cupping his cheek, “it’s okay. I care more about you than some stupid job, I don’t mind staying right here, okay?”

Michael could see that. There was no resentment or disappointment in Alex’s dark eyes or his soft, loving smile. He would stay on Michael’s lap all day if Michael wanted him to, and he’d be happy to do it.

How long would that last? How long would their relationship survive if Michael couldn’t give him a few days’ worth of space? How long until Michael’s love for Alex turned into an incessant need that was never satisfied, until neither of them could go off to work without Michael descending into a panic attack?

No. Something had to give.

“I can’t . . .” he started, and Alex was nodding.

“I understand,” he said, “it’s okay.”

“No,” he held Alex’s hand to his lips. “I can’t be this scared all the time, Alex. I can’t worry that you won’t come back every time you walk out the door. I have to . . .” the words didn’t want to leave, but Michael forced them out, “I have to let you go. Just for a little while. Just so I know that you’ll always come back to me.”

“Always,” Alex promised at once, and something in Michael rested a little easier. He believed him, he did . . . he was just terrified. Alex was too important to him to risk.

Sliding a hand into Alex’s hair, he pulled him in to slot their mouths together, his other arm around Alex’s waist. Alex arched into his body like he was just as starved for him, cupping his face and tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

They ended up tangled in each other a few minutes more before Michael had to put a stop to it and walk Alex to the door. If he held him close now, he really wouldn’t ever let him leave again. Alex walked backwards to his car, eyes on Michael until the last possible second. Michael didn’t dare go inside until long after Alex’s car was out of sight. Then he closed the door and collapsed against it, exhaling shakily, a tear rolling down his cheek.

“He’ll come back,” he told himself, the silence of the now empty house heavier than it had ever been. “He’ll come back.”

Alex checked in when he got to the top-secret base that night, and Michael had checked his location just to make sure he’d been safe and sound the entire ride there, where Alex finally turned off the feature until his inevitable drive back. He called that night, and Michael kept him on the phone to fall asleep to his voice, and then again in the morning to make sure Michael had eaten. Michael had done the same, and protested when Alex had insisted that a granola bar was enough.

“I mean, there’s a breakfast buffet, but . . .”

“But what?”

Alex’s voice dropped to a murmur like it did in those rare moments when he was shy. “I don’t know anyone. I’m supposed to be their superior, what if they just stare at me?”

Michael had been having coffee by himself at the kitchen isle, his tech and schematics spread out before him in an effort to distract him from the lack of his warm, rosy-cheeked husband at his side, and now at Alex’s embarrassment, he found himself smiling genuinely for the first time all morning.

“Aww, baby . . .”

“Shut up,” Alex grumbled, and Michael’s shoulders shook with quiet laughter. “Stop laughing at me!”

Michael’s laugh burst out then, and he curled around the phone in the hope that he could pull Alex through it and hold him like he was dying to do.

“God, I miss you,” he sighed, still smiling.

“It’s been a few hours,” Alex said. “You haven’t had the time.”

“I can miss you if I want to.”

“I miss you, too, then.”

Michael hummed. “How much do you miss me?”

“So much.”

“Enough for a FaceTime call?”

Alex couldn’t have missed the suggestion in Michael’s voice, and this time, it was him who laughed. Michael rested his chin on his palm and closed his eyes, his schematics forgotten.

“You’re such a freak,” he said fondly. “Fine, I’ll go into the damn dining hall.”

“Tell me you miss me again first.”

“I miss you,” he giggled.

“One more time?”

“I miss you I miss you I miss you, you absolute dork. I’ll call you tonight.” Then, softer, “I love you.”

“I love you more,” Michael promised, his smile already dimming at the end of the call that was coming. When Alex finally hung up, Michael continued to sit there for a long time, staring through his notes. Alex had already left, but Michael couldn’t help but whisper into the phone, “Come back to me soon.”

Over the next two days, Michael did a lot of pacing. He lounged on an exasperated Max’s couch (“It’s three days, stop being pathetic!”), hung out with Isobel and Kyle at Kyle’s insistence (who Michael was sure Alex had talked to), and worked endless hours at the junkyard to Walt’s eternal chagrin (“Lord help us if his car breaks down and he has to stay away another damn day”).

Alex did not call him on the fourth morning because he’d left the base early, making the drive back to Roswell instead, so Michael spent the hours since before dawn pacing outside. His heart thrashed when Alex’s car finally came into view, shifted restlessly from foot to foot as it pulled into the driveway, and ran at his husband before he’d even closed the car door.

Alex dropped his suitcase just as Michael swept him into his arms, his legs wrapping around Michael’s waist and his face buried in the crook of Michael’s neck. Michael groaned, long and low, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest now as he touched every inch of Alex he could reach, breathing him in and pulling him closer, closer, closer.

“I’m so tired,” Alex murmured wearily, hugging Michael’s shoulders tighter and cuddling into him like he was planning to fall asleep right there.

Michael couldn’t speak for a moment, running a hand between Alex’s shoulder blades, up and down his waist, clawing over his ass. Anything to keep him close, to feel him for hours after he eventually put him down. At least, Michael hoped he would put him down. Right now, he couldn’t imagine it.

Alex seemed to recognize that, and made no request to be released. He slid a hand into Michael’s curls and tugged. “You were so brave for me, baby,” he said. “I’m so proud of you.”

Michael shut his eyes tighter, holding onto Alex like his life depended on it. Sometimes, he thought it did. He wondered how brave Alex would think he was if he told him that.

“No big deal,” he finally said, releasing his first deep breath in days. “Barely noticed you were gone.”

***

Happy Malex Monday ❤️