#not as much as bread but i know i Do like it

[tragicdruid]

Lost Love (2)

Pairings: Wanderer x Reader

Contains: Fluff, lots of yearning, platonic relationship, post-Archon quest

Word Count: 600+

Summary: After erasing himself from Irminsul, Wanderer thinks it will fix all of his problems. Instead, he finds himself with regrets.

Part 1 | Part 2

"You know I love you. Is it too hard to love me back?"

Those words continued to haunt him every time he sees you walking through Sumeru City's marketplace. That smile, those eyes --- he hates how much he misses them; how much he misses you. There's a tug in his chest whenever you look his way, but he refuses to meet your gaze. Maybe it's shame. Maybe he's just a coward. Neither of which he'd ever admit to.

Despite this, his heart continues to yearn for you. But it's too late, he decided. You have no memory of him. He is nothing to you, and you seem so at peace that he doesn't have the heart to break it.

It's the afternoon when he happens to come across you buying some baked treats for lunch. There's a lightness to your movement that comes from abandoning the Fatui and living a free life. Without his influence, he wonders what Irminsul has replaced your motives with to leave you alone here in the city. Wanderer stands at a nearby stall, casting you a subtle glance as he watches your hands smoothly take two wrapped pieces of bread. Pretty hands he wishes he could hold one last time.

"Just two will do, thanks. Well, actually, can I also get..."

Your voice is mostly the same, but there's a peace to it that he doesn't recognize. You sound happier without him; less stressed. Content. It's a pleasant sound that makes his chest clench. Would you have sounded this lovely had you not approached him back when he was Scaramouche? It's something he doesn't want to think about.

Wanderer snaps out of his thoughts as you thank the baker once more, turning away with a smile with a bag of baked goods in hand. Despite his noble intentions, he is not a noble man. Neither is he selfish, but he can be so so greedy.

As you begin to walk down the path towards another stall, he intercepts you. Your shoulders bump lightly, enough to catch your attention.

"Ah, excuse me," you exclaim apologetically, a polite small smile on your lips.

It's not enough. He wants to see that affectionate smile you once gave him. The one that makes your eyes twinkle.

"Be more careful," he responds coolly, tipping his hat slightly forward to avoid your gaze.

But he simply can't help himself. He turns his head upward once more and catches your raised brow, eyes curious as you take in his expression. Your eyes were always beautiful up close, especially when lit up by the sun.

"You bumped into me," you reply, tone both accusatory and amused. "But I'll let it slide though since you're cute."

Wanderer feels a familiar heat in his cheeks. It's something so childish to be flattered by, but it's only because it's coming from you. He can only scoff in turn, glancing to the side as he tries to focus on anything other than you...but his eyes finds their way back as they lock onto that smile. It's full of mirth and sweet amusement. He's the only one you should be smiling like that for.

"Trying to use flattery to divert blame? How childish," he chuckles, crossing his arms nonchalantly.

A huff of a laugh leaves you as you roll your eyes. "It's not flattery if it's the truth." You look him up and down with interest and curiosity. It's clear that he's not from the city; though neither are you.

"Do you want to have lunch?" You offer with a small smirk. "We can argue semantics over some treats."

You hold up your paper bag, giving it a light shake.

He knows that he should say no and let you go on your merry way, but the chance to be this close to you is too tempting to pass up.

"I don't have anything better to do. Why not?" His voice is cool and collected, but he feels anything other than that. Had he a heart, it would be pounding in his chest.

Maybe this time, he could do things right.

[waywardangel-wilds]

Inspired by this post by @littlemarianah and this post by @mellarked-katnisseverdeen :

Katniss propped up her father’s frameless shaving mirror, watching herself in the setting sunlight as she anxiously rearranged her hair. She brushed her fingers down the front of her dress. It was ironed, clean, and never before mended. It was the nicest piece of clothing she owned. Was it alright? She turned herself to profile in the mirror. Would he like it?

“Birdie, what are you puttering around in there for?” Her father hobbled towards the bathrooms doorway. His bad leg usually gave him a harder time on rainy evenings, like the one they were having. “My,” he paused to smile, “aren’t you a pretty picture?”

She smiled. “Oh daddy, don’t tell me you forgot already.” She reached over to put the mirror away. “You promised you’d be on your best behaviour.”

“For what?” He asked, but his slight smile gave him away. Katniss rolled her eyes while she straightened the collar of his shirt. “I’m just joking, ‘course I didn’t forget. What are you messing with my shirt for? He's not coming to see me!” He laughed.

“This is important to me,” She met her father’s smiling eyes with her own nervous gaze. “I want him to like it here. I want you to like him.”

“We’ll see about that,” he chuckled at his daughter’s stricken expression. “Don’t give me that pout! I just want to know if he’s good enough to be on your arm, is all.”

“Daddy,” Katniss shook her head. She glanced out the window at the sun. He’d be by soon. “I need to finish getting ready!”

“You’re beautiful already, birdie. I don’t see what all the fuss is about.” He was laughing as she pushed him out of the bathroom. “Alright! Alright! I know when I’m not wanted.”

“Please don’t let mama say anything embarrassing!” She begged before she shut the door in his face.

“You heard that? Your daughter thinks we’ve no self control,” he snickered into the kitchen where his wife offered him an amused tweak of the brow. “You’d think the boy was the prince of Panem or something.”

“Hm, I think it’s sweet.” His wife replied, lifting the lid of the stew she’d been working on for the better part of the evening. “Young love, remember it?”

“You’re calling me old?” He pulled her into the circle of his arms. “These Everdeen women sure are difficult to impress.”

“Spruce,” she shook her head. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and help me with this food, huh? Your daughter put a lot of work into tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He walked over to their makeshift ice box. “I promise to keep the commentary to a minimum.”

“Mama! If Katniss marries the baker do we get free cakes forever?” Prim little head stuck into the house from where she sat on the front steps. “Cause that’d be really neat!”

“Primrose Everdeen!” She said around a laugh. “Don’t you have to get dressed for dinner?”

“He’s not marrying me,” the girl replied sullenly as she shuffled towards the bedroom.

“No one’s marrying anyone!” Spruce called out. “In fact, what does anyone need boys for?”

“You’re a boy daddy,” Prim replied.

“Now that’s an entirely different thing,” he replied. “I’m your father. That makes me better than the rest.”

“Mmhm,” his wife replied sarcastically. “Taste this?” She placed the spoon before his lips.

“Sour,” he coughed. “What have you been doing over there?”

“Well you could fix it if you know so much,” she handed him the spoon. “I could use a rest, you know. It takes a lot to look like this.” She fluffed her hair.

“Yes, I noticed. You look lovely, dear.” She smacked his shoulder. “I mean it!”

“Uh huh,” she replied.

“Mama! Could I borrow your lipstick?” Katniss’s voice came from the bathroom still. “Is it in your room?”

“Yes, darling.” His wife replied, shooting him an amused look. “In the drawer!”

They didn't hear anything else before they saw her zoom by to the bedroom, her hair trailing behind her like a river of molasses.

“Don’t sprain something now!” He called after her. “This kid better be the best thing since sliced bread. I don’t remember you putting this much work into making me happy.”

“Hush,” his wife tried to peek into the bedroom before the door shut behind their daughter’s back. “She’s nervous enough as it is.”

A thudding noise from beyond the closed door caught their attention. “Hey!” Prim yelled.

“Oh no, now they’re fighting.” She patted his arm. “I’m going in there.”

“You have my thoughts and prayers,” he replied sarcastically. She didn’t spare that a response, but she smiled, so that was a win.

He set about fixing the stew, adding some extra water to try and counteract the excess vinegar. He was cutting up some wild onion when a tentative knock befell the open door.

"Ah, there he is," He glanced towards the doorway with a friendly expression. "The man of the hour."

At the threshold, a shy-looking eighteen-year-old boy peeked halfway into the house. He smiled self-consciously. "Good evening, Mr. Everdeen."

"Mr. Everdeen? That was my father. You’ll call me Spruce. Come in! What are you doing hanging out in the rain?" He waved him over. "Do you know much about cooking?"

"The basics, I think." He shrugged good-naturedly, taking a moment to wipe his feet on the cheerful mat his wife had laid out there ages ago. He walked in strangling some unfortunate daisies. "These are for Katniss."

"We've got a vase somewhere," He ducked to check the cupboard, his back protesting the whole time. "Here we are. One chipped jug, close enough." He smiled over his shoulder. "It's Peeta, correct?"

"Yes, sir." Peeta accepted the old milk jug and went to fill it at the sink. He quirked a brow at that. "Uh, Mr. Spruce, sorry."

"Whatever floats your boat." He accepted, "Is that for us?" He looked at the covered dish in the boy's other hand.

"Yes, of course!" He awkwardly set it down on the counter as his hands were full. Spruce was starting to feel bad for the kid, he'd never seen anyone so nervous. "Katniss loves the bakery's cheese buns so I figured it might be nice to bring some."

"That she does. Do you think she'd mind if I took one?" He asked cheekily, removing the dish's lid.

Peeta smiled. "Maybe a little."

"I think I'll risk it," He took a big bite out of a nice warm bun. He nodded in approval, "This is good."

Peeta's smile widened, "thank you, Mr. Spruce."

"You're here!" They turned towards the sound of his daughter's voice. She stood in the doorway to the bedroom, looking as lovely as she'd been since the day she was born, but this time she had a light touch of lipstick on her cheeks. "You met my dad."

Peeta nodded, "I did." He started blushing. "I-uh, brought you these." He extended the flowers in her direction, which she leaped across the room to accept. "You look beautiful."

Katniss glanced over her shoulder self-consciously. Spruce averted his eyes to give her some privacy. "Thank you," she said with a voice as sweet as honey. "You look nice too."

Peeta's face took on a love-dazed look and Spruce shook his head. Oh man, that's why his mother had constantly made fun of him back in the day.

He turned his back on the kids. Might as well spare them the extra embarrassment. "We're having a big dinner tonight. Katniss caught all this game all by herself." He returned to the stew, "Right, birdie?"

"Yep," the awkwardness seemed to be a common denominator. "You brought me cheese buns?"

"Yeah, I know how much you like them," Peeta replied with an awkward little chuckle.

"Thank you, I do-- like them, I mean. Yeah." Katniss spoke haltingly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Oh!” His wife finally made it out of the bedroom. “Prim, come say hello!" She called back into the bedroom. "Peeta! How are you? Did the rain give you a hard time?"

"No, no, not at all, I'm great" Peeta replied. "Thank you for inviting me over tonight. You have a lovely home, Mrs. Everdeen."

"Thank you, and it's no trouble at all. We've been curious about you." She walked towards the table with Prim following close behind, a curious look to her. "And please, you don't have to call me that, Lily is fine."

"Lily," Peeta repeated with a smile.

"So since you're the baker and all, do we get freebies when you marry my sister?" Prim challenged.

"Prim!" Katniss chastised. “You don’t have to answer that. We’re not even engaged Prim.”

"And I'm not the baker. I just work there." Peeta answered with an amused smile. "My dad's the baker but I can still make you anything you'd like."

"You don't have to," Katniss said.

"Great! My birthday's coming up." Prim went on shamelessly. She pulled out one of the dining chairs and sat down. "Could you make it a heart-shaped cake? Oh! And cover it in pink frosting?"

Lily put a hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter, meanwhile, Katniss looked mortified. Spruce tsked, joining his youngest daughter at the table. “Don’t scare him off, you’ll cost us our in at the bakery!”

“Daddy,” Katniss complained. She picked up her boyfriend’s hand and tugged him towards the table. “They’re just joking. They do that a lot.”

“I really wouldn’t mind making it though,” Peeta smiled gregariously. “It’s not every day you get an order for a pink and heart-shaped cake. It sounds like fun.”

“In that case, could it be tiered too?” Prim interjected.

“That’s enough, Prim. Don’t disrespect.” Lily said. To Peeta she added, “has Katniss offered you something to drink?”

“Oh wow, I’m sorry I forgot. Do you want some water?” Katniss smiled her embarrassment.

“No, I’m okay, thanks.” Peeta and her seemed to have some sort of secret conversation which resulted in Katniss laughing.

“Should we eat?” Spruce stood. “I can serve the stew.”

“I’ll get the bowls,” Lily readily added. Once they were a sufficiently far away from the children she stage-whispered, “what do you think?”

“I think we’ve got ourselves a problem.”

“A problem? What do you mean? He seems perfectly nice to me.”

“No, he is. Problem is we’re gonna lose our kid.” He peaked over his shoulder. The kids were all seated at the table and having a normal conversation. “This looks permanent.”

Lily’s face grew sentimental. “We weren’t that much older when we got married.” She bit her lip. “ironic, huh?”

“How’d you mean?”

“You and me, town and seam. I chose the coal miner over the baker. Now, our daughter and her boyfriend, still town and seam, but she’s choosing the baker. It’s almost by design.”

“You’re reading too much into it,” he said. “What we should be worried about is how this affects me and the actual baker. First his girl and now his son? I can't go back there.”

“Spruce,” Lily laughed. "You and your jokes. Would it kill you to take this seriously?"

"Yes, it would." He grinned shamelessly. "But you knew that when you married me."

"You're terrible." She handed him a bowl. "Hurry up."

"So demanding," he shook his head. "This is cripple abuse."

"Cripple," Lily snorted.

"Thank you," Peeta smiled winningly as Lily deposited his bowl in front of him.

"So Peeta," Spruce interlaced his fingers. Time to look serious. "If you're not going to be the baker, what will you do? I'm assuming one of your brothers is the next baker, right?"

"Dad," Katniss complained.

"It's an important question." Spruce leaned forward slightly on his forearms. "Peeta?"

"That's right, Mr., Uh, Spruce, I'm not the next baker." Peeta managed to maintain eye contact with him. Good. "I'm apprenticing at the justice building for the rest of the year. My mother's side of the family has connections there."

"Interesting. What will you be doing?" Spruce cocked his head. "It pays?"

"Dad," Katniss groaned. "You know I'm sitting right here right?"

He put up a placating hand, "Peeta?"

"It pays," the boy nodded. "It should be enough, for um, multiple people." He blushed then.

"Please, I could probably provide enough for all of us." Katniss rolled her eyes and muttered. "Talking about me like a goat up for auction."

Spruce stared hard at them both for a long moment. Peeta looked like he was sweating. Katniss looked like she wanted him to keel over. He nodded. "Alright."

"Alright?" Katniss asked derisively.

"I'm giving you my blessing, birdie. Don't spend it all in one place." He smiled as Katniss gave in and softened. "That's my girl."

Part 2

[echo-goes-mmm]

Kitty Elliot AU #2

Masterpost

Previous

Next

Warnings: past abuse

The catboy ate with gusto, and Ambrose prayed he wouldn’t get sick from eating so much so soon.

He looked filthy, dust and dirt and bruises. His hair looked gray and matted, and from a glance Ambrose could see his underwear was practically hanging off of him.

“Do you have a name?” he asked.

The catboy paused in the middle of drinking, his tongue peeking out before disappearing.

The young man stared at Ambrose, unblinking. His mouth opened and closed silently before shaking his head. He went back to the water.

“My name is Ambrose,” he said. “Is there something I can call you?”

The catboy glanced up and blinked in confusion. 

“Uh- I could make something up?” the young man lifted a shoulder in a shrug before resuming eating.

Ambrose’s mind worked, trying to come up with a list of names. Alex, Conner, Jason, Max, Elliot, Felix.

“How about Max?” No response. “Conner?” Nope. “Elliot?”

The catboy looked up, licking a stray drop from his lip. He opened his mouth and closed it again, a faint squeak from the back of his throat.

Hardly a sound, barely a meow, but it would do.

“You like Elliot?” The catboy nodded before going after the bread on the plate.

Ambrose watched Elliot finish eating. The fruit was gone, but Elliot had made a face when he ate it. Clearly not a favorite item, but he probably couldn’t afford to be picky. Ambrose made a mental note not to give him fruit.

Elliot didn’t seem to know what to do with himself now that the food was all gone. He just stared at Ambrose, still crouched on the floor. His hands and feet were under him, as if he thought he might need to pounce or run.

Ambrose rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly awkward. Elliot’s eyes followed the movement.

“How about a bath? With some nice, hot water?” he offered. Elliot’s eyes glanced over to the basin and pump in the corner and back to Ambrose.

“Upstairs, I mean,” clarified Ambrose. “I have a better bathroom on my floor.”

Elliot turned and slipped back under the bed. Fair enough.

“Alright,” he said, picking up the dishes. “I’ll let you rest. I’ll see you tomorrow, I suppose.”

He washed the dishes and cleaned up before heading upstairs. Ambrose hesitated outside Elliot’s door. It was silent.

Ambrose shook his head, still in disbelief. He trudged up the staircase that led to his room. 

What a day.

He lit some incense at the small altar, and told Janus about his day. A habit he never could bring himself to stop, even though it hurt.

Ambrose took a hot shower, scrubbing the day’s work off his body. 

He hoped Elliot would stay for a while, or at least until he was strong enough to leave. He could use the company.

Even though he lived in a small town with plenty of people who knew him, he was still lonely.

A friend, a real one, would be welcome. 

Ambrose slipped into bed and fell asleep.

___________________

He knocked on Elliot’s door after breakfast, scrambled eggs and toast in hand.

“Good morning,” he said, opening it after no response.

He caught a flash of tail disappearing under the bed. Huh. The sheets had been used; Elliot had slept in the bed, and that was progress.

“It’s just me,” he called out quietly, closing the door behind him. “I have some breakfast for you.”

Elliot’s face poked out from under the bed. Cute.

Ambrose set the plate out, a few feet from the bed. Elliot crawled out again to eat. 

He still looked wary, especially with Ambrose standing instead of sitting, but food was apparently more important than fear.

His claws weren’t out, which was a concern. His fingers looked fine, so he wasn’t declawed, but the marks on his body indicated violence.

What if using his claws was beaten out of him?

Ambrose scanned his body, taking in the wounds. There were scars on his back, raised and long. Bruises were everywhere, green and sickly yellow, purple and black. A prominent one in the shape of a boot lined his side.

Ambrose wasn’t wearing shoes yet, and maybe that was why Elliot was comfortable at his feet despite the clear history of being kicked.

Ambrose crouched down, and Elliot flinched. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Have you thought more about having a bath?” 

Elliot’s ears and tail twitched. 

“I just think it might be nice to have a wash. Don’t you want to be a little cleaner? Maybe get your hair and fur brushed?”

Elliot hesitated before taking another bite.

“You can pick out some clothes to borrow afterwards,” he offered.

Elliot didn’t seem convinced. 

Ambrose chewed the inside of his cheek. “I have some cream downstairs. You can have some after we’re done.” 

Elliot’s head shot up, his eyes wide. “I promise,” Ambrose said. “You can have a whole mug.” He hoped it wouldn’t hurt his stomach, which was likely, but it was his only bargaining chip.

Elliot wiped his face with the back of his hand, nodding. 

“Great. We’ll get it done after you finish eating, okay?” 

Elliot went back to his eggs, and Ambrose sighed in relief.

Food, water, a bath, some clothes, he checked off in his head. Pain medication, maybe. Slave for those bruises. And we can get rid of that awful collar.

Elliot cleared his plate in a scant few minutes, looking up at Ambrose expectantly.

“Good,” he said, and he could see the bare hint of a smile on Elliot’s face.

Ambrose let them upstairs, Elliot trailing silently behind him. He began to run the hot water, checking the temperature every few minutes to make sure it wasn’t too hot.

Soon the tub was full, and Ambrose fetched a towel and washcloth for Elliot.

But when he got back to the bathroom, the catboy was gone. Ambrose set the towels aside, pushing down his panic.

“Elliot?” he called. No answer.

Shit.

taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain @secretwhumplair @paintedpigeon1 @whump-blog @whump-em

@thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @starfields08000 @littlespacecastle @mylovelyme @whump-cravings

@zeewbee @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @fanastyfinder @roblingoblin285 @whumpzone

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@loserwithsyle @bitchaknso @cepheusgalaxy

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Could you write a possessive flavored yandere Erron black?

“Sweetheart…where are you hidin’? I know you’re here. Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

A/N: yes sirrrrr. I’m sorry I realized I got a little bit distracted while writing and didn’t follow the request exactlyyyy…oopsies. I’ve never written Erron so I do hope he’s in character enough. Thank you so much for requesting. I hope you enjoy. Just request again if you want a specific scenario.

Warnings: Yandere/toxic themes, kidnapping, talks of murder, threats, obsession

Requests: open 24/7

Masterlist

Being tracked down by a bounty hunter-cowboy was definitely not on this year's bingo card.

You had no clue you were putting yourself in the middle of something far greater than anything you could imagine. That a little celebratory trip down to the local pub would turn into you hiding for your life.

“Sweetheart…where are you hidin’? I know you’re here. Come out, come out, wherever you are.” A deep husky, southern voice taunted

You remained stiff, curled into a tight ball, silently praying for a way out of this nightmare.

How could you be so damn stupid. How did you not notice something off about the man? Why didn’t the alarm bells go off for you the second he walked in? And why were you just now putting the pieces together ?

~~~

From the way he had dressed to the way the atmosphere changed from the second he walked in…you were so oblivious.

Tipsy and blissful you had thought his outfit was the coolest thing since sliced bread. Unknowingly, you thought he was a part of one of the larp groups in the area. gleefully, you struck up a conversation with the fella.

“You know, you are one, if not the coolest motherfucker I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I wish I had a cowboy hat like that.”

Amused, the man had decided to take a seat next to you and indulge in the conversation.

“Well a mighty thank you, princess. You know you are one, if not the prettiest woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on. Names’ Erron, what brings someone like you to a place like this?”

“Haha I’m y/n and thank you! I’m here to celebrate a bonus I finally got from my boss. I’ve been hounding her about it for months and I’m so happy to finally get it,. Times been rough, y’know?”

“Oh don’t I know it, baby doll.”

From there you guys chatted it up, flirted back and forth, and shared a few drinks. Not even realizing the staleness of the rest of the Pub.

Everyone, except for you, seemed to know exactly who Erron was. They recognized that man wasn’t just here to socialize, he was there to collect.

~~~

You had found the perfect hiding space, just under the performance stage, behind the small curtains.

Luckily, no one noticed you crawling over to it, seemingly not even the cowboy. Everyone was far too busy with their own business to care about you in the heat of the moment.

It kept you safe enough from all the commotion that went down, just moments earlier, protecting you from all the stray bullets that unfortunately caught a few others.

The cowboy had a hefty bounty to collect if he successfully killed the man he was after…which also happened to be a frequent patron of the pub.

The man that everyone turned their heads to look at when he arrived, the man that turned Erron Black from a fun-loving conversationalist to a bloodthirsty monster.

You could hear the heavy thudding of his thick metal boots, treading the wooden floor as he tried to find you.

“I’m so sorry about all that, doll. Erron had some business to take care of…I hope you understand.” He had tried to make his voice sweet to make you feel safe enough to come out. Like he hadn’t just murdered the entire bar.

The sound of chairs and tables being thrown, and cabinets being searched sent a sharp fear down your throat and into your stomach.

You couldn’t see it but you could hear just how erratic he was becoming searching for you.

“I know you’re a little frightened but don’t worry I’m not gunna hurt ya darlin’…I think we have something special going on. Wouldn’t ya’ agree?”

Erron wasn’t leaving that place without you. You’ve charmed the dangerous cowboy enough to win him over so like hell he would leave you here! He’s not done with you just yet. Besides you’ve seen too much, either way he’d still have to find you to kill you.

“You looked mighty fine tonight…why don’t ya say’, we go back to my place. Not like there’s any other men here to take you home…”

You could hear his boots pick up pace on the hard wood as he walked over to the bar before they stopped. Clinking of a glass could be heard before the pouring of a drink.

“Come on pretty please.” The irritation in his voice began to rise, his patience with you wavering

Erron usually isn’t this patient, and for a moment he’d thought about just setting the place ablaze and just letting you die like that. But Erron knew if he did, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself for a while. Something about you just couldn’t escape his mind. He needed to see that precious little face again.

A deep sigh filled the air before it became completely silent. It lasted quite some time, far longer than just a beat. Nearly ten minutes had passed and curiosity started to get the better of you.

What the hell was he doing? He couldn’t of left. Not that silently at least. You hadn’t heard a single sound, not even the sound of him drinking…was he just sitting there?

You wanted to get a good look, maybe he was distracted enough to sneak past?

Carefully, you leaned forward enough to grab a little bit of the curtain that lined the front of the platform, gently pushing it aside…only enough to see him. He sat haphazardly on the bar stool, with one leg planted on the ground to keep his balance and the other placed on the leg rest. His head face downwards and his hat hung low, shadowing his face and in his hands he still held the glass he earlier had drank from.

As if he could feel the gentle wind of the curtain being moved, Erron suddenly shattered the glass he was holding, causing it to catch you off guard and send you falling forward onto the cold, hardwood floor.

The cowboy released a chilling chuckle, one just as violent and twisted as he was.

You had fell right into his trap, there wasn’t any time to escape or run and hide again before he was removing that curtain and pulling you out from under the stage

“Darlin’, my job is catching people. You really thought that I wouldn’t find you? Truthfully, I knew exactly where you were the whole time. I just wanted to see if you’d come out for me if I’d ask~.”

“P-please…let me go. I-I didn’t do anything to you please—“ you squirmed tremendously as you tried your best to free your limbs from his grasp.

He shook his head and tsk’ed

“I would’ve let you go if you’d been good for me…you made me wait so long for you. Love is patient, I however, am not.”

“I’m so sorry-I was sca—“

“Shh it’s okay. I’ll teach ya how to reaaal be obedient.”

“Are you going to kill me..please—I don’t wanna die. I’m sorry please—.“

He let out another chilling laugh, this time a bit more dry.

“Oh i'm not going to kill you…I like you enough not to.—“ taking out and unwind I the rope from his hip, he continued

“You’re comin’ with me, Y/N. You’re gunna my new lil’ pet.”

[itsabouttimex2]

Heyyyy, it’s ME again!! I was just wondering if you take requests for Yandere Alphabets? If so can I get one of Huntsman, Syntax, and/or the Mayor?

(I know this is like my third request I’m so sorry I’m so starved of fanfic content of these three in any shape or form it is CRIMINAL 😭)

Yandere Alphabet: Huntsman

(No worries! I don’t mind at all! And sorry if updates have been a little slow- I’ve recently acquired a rescue cat, who’s been a little clingy!)

Authority: Do they see themselves as above their obsession?

No. Huntsman wants someone who is explicitly equal to him- in power and drive and skill. If Y/N is weak or small, he won’t have any interest in them.

Bread: Can they cook or bake? Is Y/N responsible for their own food?

I imagine he cures and dries most of his hunted meat, spicing the strips to be sharp and energizing. He’ll share- especially if you behave well enough to earn a hunt with him. And honestly? Huntsman would love to teach you to prepare it with him.

Probably not too good with modern appliances, though. He can use them, for what it’s worth- he just doesn’t like to.

Cruentus- How do they respond to Y/N being hurt, both slightly and severely?

Given their probable capability for self-defense, Huntsman isn’t too worried about his obsession’s safety. If he’s interested in Y/N, it’s because they make for a good rival- they have to be able to fight back and escape from danger.

If harm somehow comes to them in captivity, the arachnoid does see fit to tend your wounds- perhaps a bit roughly. Many natural remedies- honey as an antibiotic, aloe vera to soothe burns and rashes, poppy pods as a painkiller, ginger for nausea, etc.

Disengage- What’s their response to being ignored?

Mild distaste for what he perceives as ‘childishness’. When he catches Y/N, he expects them to accept it with some measure of grace. Sure, they don’t have to start cheering, but Huntsman would appreciate it if they were more mature.

Besides- he can ignore them right back, especially since they’re the one in cage.

Enclosure: Where do they keep Y/N?

Hung on his wall like a trophy- even if he has to take you apart piece by piece and put you back together like a puzzle.

Or a steel-wrought and dead-bolted cage, with just enough room to pace around- even with a shackle of black iron around your neck.

Decisions, decisions.

Facade: Are they good at hiding their true intentions?

I’d say no, but saying no implies that there’s an undertaken effort being failed- and there isn’t. Huntsman just… doesn’t care.

And franky? Neither does the Spider Queen, or Syntax, or Goliath. (Although the big guy will make sure you don’t starve while his workmate is out.) Nobody cares for your plight, leaving your hope of escape infinitesimally small.

Garment: Do they take control of Y/N’s clothes?

No, not really. As long as the gear you wear is practical, Huntsman won’t so much as bat an eye. Comfort and function are equally important, and that’s something he understands quite well.

If he does manage to catch you, expect to be given “luxury” clothes made from the bodies of his previous quarry. His webbing holds

Handicap: How do they handle Y/N being or becoming disabled?

If the disability occurs before he catches them, Huntsman may well drop his current obsession and find a new one. After all, he’s not looking for a pitiful cripple- he warns a powerful warrior! Why remain with someone who can no longer deftly escape his grasp?

If it happens afterwards, the arachnoid simply takes it as a permanent mark of his victory over you. You’ve got a limp or a shaky wrist or a few missing fingers- and he smiles wide when he see the struggle you undertake.

Proof of the colossal task surmounted- how could he not be proud of himself?

Intertwine: How physical are they? Do they enjoy skinship and touch?

His touch is rough and challenging, constant spurring towards a vicious fight and a potential attempt at escape- keeping you as a caged little bunny is just no fun. If our dear Huntsman can push until you snap and lash, he’ll be all the happier for it.

Just remember- this isn’t a game, and he won’t be going easy on you.

Jaunt: Are they willing to take Y/N out? Where do they go?

Not unless you’re willing to hunt, butcher, and cook little animals with him. If you are, Huntsman enjoys taking you out on little trips out to local forests and woods.

Kindness: What brings out the best in this yandere?

His kindest scenario involves a young and wild Y/N, feral and furious. He takes you under his wing to train properly, honing the skills you’ve obtained in the wild. Your transformation into a spider demon is inevitable, in this scenario. Huntsman would treat you more like an apprentice than a target, maybe taking you in as his own heir.

Limitation: What holds them back? Work? Family obligations? Physical weakness?

Very, very little. A mild and ever-thinning sense of duty to his queen, but that thread is gossamer. You come first, above all else.

Morals: What lines are they not willing to cross?

Torture. Admittedly, Huntsman isn’t a great person. But I don’t think he’d push that line into physical or psychological torment- he’s got his limits, especially when it comes to someone he actually sort of cares about.

Nausea: Can they tend to an illness, or would they rely on a doctor?

If natural remedies and rest don’t work, he’ll take you to Syntax to have your symptoms properly examined. Huntsman doesn’t want to threaten a doctor into seeing you, or run the risk of an escape while bringing you out, so he’ll just steal the needed medicine.

Obcordate: What reminds them of Y/N?

Rabbits scurrying to their burrows. Doves flying to their nests in fright. Fawns sheltering behind their mothers. Little prey animals running to hide away until the dawn rises once more and offers comfort from lurking shadows.

Pacify: How do they comfort Y/N? Do they even bother trying?

If you’re on the younger end (15-19), Huntsman will rummage up a little bit of pity to offer you cured meats and a fur jacket to wear. It’s not much, but it’s proof there’s a little bit of kindness in his heart somewhere.

If you’re on the older end, well… tough luck.

Queue: Do they have something of equal or greater importance to Y/N?

No. His loyalty to the Spider Queen comes close at first, but he eventually ditches her to pursue you more viciously.

Unless… he goes yandere for Sandy, too. With a younger Y/N and a budding obsession with the big blue sweetheart, I could see Huntsman trying to build himself a little family- however crude and forced.

Redemption: Could they grow out of their obsession and make amends with Y/N?

Dear lord, no. There is literally one circumstance in which he gives up on utterly decimating or owning you: the two of you fighting off the Mayor together and fighting the Lady Bone Demon alongside him.

The above mentioned scenario makes him behave more kindly, but he won’t give up the obsessive desire to possess.

Sobriquet- What nicknames do for they have for their obsession?

Morsel, little minnow, little dove, fresh meat… anything that makes you sound small and mouthwatering.

If you’ve animal attributes across your body, expect him to refer to you by whatever collateral adjective applies to your lineage.

Troop: How many people do they obsess over? Is that obsession spread equally?

One or two- it’s either you, or you and Sandy. If it’s both of you, his time and effort is split roughly half-and-half.

Underdog: Who‘s on the yandere’s side? Would they help out?

No one is explicitly helping him (unless mutually yandere Silktea is a thing, and then Sandy does enable him, unfortunately) but no one is stopping him, either. None of his fellow spider demons care whether he has you or not, leaving Huntsman virtually free to do as he pleases while pursuing you.

Vocalize: How do they justify their actions?

Huntsman doesn’t bother to do so- what he’s doing is wrong, but he revels in it anyhow. Why care about mortal laws or logic? All they do is hamper his fun.

White Whale: Why do they pursue Y/N, exactly?

If you’re strong and capable, you’ve got a chance of catching this spider’s eyes. That’s about it- he wants someone just as vicious and powerful (or at least as capable) as he is.

Xanthous: What do they really want?

A way to elevate his skills, and that’s about it. When it comes to his ‘yandere’ side, he’s high on obsession and low on love. It’s one of the reasons he’s willing to kill Y/N- their worth to him is mostly temporary, based on their power and techniques.

Youth: How old is Y/N in comparison to them? Younger, same age, or older?

Same age, maybe a little older. A child won’t have the experience he’s looking for- this arachnoid specifically wants a good hunt. There’s no joy or triumph in butchering a helpless child.

If you do happen to be a child who impressed him, he’ll abduct you. Maybe a few weeks will be spent waiting in a dusty, web-covered cellar, only for him to come in and stab a venom-drone into the base of your spine. A little hunting buddy doesn’t sound like an awful thing to have, after all.

Zealous: Do they pursue Y/N doggedly, or are they more laidback and casual with their approach?

It doesn’t get much more zealous than viciously pursuing someone as though they were a fleeing beast. Every night is spent fortifying your defenses and prepping weaponry, all to meet him in the morning and fight desperately to ward the demon off.

Author’s Choice:

[yae-energy]

╰┈─✩ ˚ ‧ All the ways I love you ‧ ˚

✧˖° synopsis : The Jjk first years and their love languages !

✧˖° cast and crew : Megumi Fushiguro, Yuji Itadori & Nobara Kugisaki x Black Reader < 3

.ᐟ content warnings : General tomfoolery and mushy mush cause FUCK THE MANGA.

⤑ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ authors note : It’s been actual decades since I’ve posted any form of writing….I feel so unseasoned LMAO. This is just a quick lil hc post, nun crazyyy 😽

—

Megumi “I’ll do it” Fushiguro : Acts of Service king.

Now one thing about Megumi??? He’s gonna hit you with the “I got it” EVERY. SINGLE. TIME without fail. Doesn’t matter what time of day, doesn’t matter what he’s doing, he’s gonna make sure you don’t lift a finger for anythinggg.

Is he gonna complain whilst doing it? Of course.

But that’s just true Megumi fashion. It doesn’t mean he ACTUALLY hates doing things for you. Whether that be grabbing you snacks or completing mundane tasks for you such as carrying your bag or opening doors for you, HES GONNA DO IT EVERY TIME. You don’t even have to ask.

Def brings a “if he wanted to he would” typa vibe to the relationship and obviously you appreciate it ten fold (despite the tough guy act he tries and subsequently fails to put on. He loves him some you.) And what better way can he show that than through actions?

They speak louder than words, right?

—

Yuji “I love you” Itadori : Words of Affirmation goat

Ok y’all listen here, this boy is a certified yapper through and mf through. ESPECIALLY when it comes to you.

He will never fail to let you— or anyone for that matter, know just how much he loves you and appreciates your presence. You’re like some sort of higher being to him, the best thing since sliced bread if you will.

All day everyday he’s spouting all sorts of “I love you” and “I’m so lucky to have you 🥲” and he’s gonna get emotional EVERY TIME. Like he won some sort of award (the prize being you of course.) And that doesn’t even include the impromptu monologues about how you’ve changed him for the better, and how glad he is to even have someone as amazing as you.

He loves you REAL BAD, why wouldn’t he tell you?

He’d scream it from the rooftops if he could.

—

Nobara “Look what I got you” Kugisaki : Gift giving queen

Now, I personally consider Nobara to be a mixture of quality time and gift giving, but I’m leaning more with the latter because damn is she a great gifter.

Not only does she love spending money (me too girl, me too.) But, she LOVESSSSS you. Two birds with one stone she’d say, because she loves having an excuse to drop a couple dollars and make you happy in the process.

If she sees you eyeing something while window shopping? It’s yours automatically— whether you actually intended to buy it or not. She’s not good with the whole “lovey dovey” schtick, that’s just not her style. But to make up for it, she makes sure that you have whatever you want when you want it, even if you express she doesn’t HAVE to.

SHE WANTS TO, and you can’t tell her otherwise.

⤑ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ tags : - @morosis-haze @jogeto @mypimpademia @ivanari @planetlunaa @cosmiles @milesmolasses @chinieh @romiantic @stqrriichiigo

if you wish to be tagged in any future works, here’s my tag form to fill out <33

if you wish to submit a request, here’s my ask box :)

⤑ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ closing notes : hey guys…ahahaha…

LOOK IK I SAID I WAS GONNA POST A MONTH AGO BUT LIFE WAS LIFING LMAOOO

I also got a new job now so I won’t have AS much time to post and be silly on here (not that I was super active before but yk.)

Anyhow, thanks for reading and putting up with my lying ass 😕🫶🏽

Love y’all BOOTS DOWN

Mwah 💋

- Xoxo, Yves

[marshmallowprotection]

it’s 2am and i need my daily dose of angst

what are the most angstiest hcs you have for the choi twins? like genuinely heartbreaking ones

TW; Eating Problems, Emetophobia, Body Insecurity, Survivor's Guilt, Life Attempt / The Explosion, and the expected past-abuse warning for the Choi twins.

Ray physically recoils and sobs whenever his red roots start to come back in. A part of him is happy to see it because he thinks he may be able to have his original hair back someday, someday when all of the things his Savior told him are in the past and it's revealed that all of it had been a misunderstanding. He wants to believe that he'll be happy with Saeyoung again.

It's an overwhelming moment, but it's over just as soon as his fingers touch the vibrant red.

It burns.

It burns like he's been sent to Hell, and he screams. "Not fair, not fair, not fair, not fair!" Images of lies burn through his mind as the worst of the worst begins to settle in. Every vicious lie Rika told him tangled in with the images he's seen of his brother in the RFA, laughing, having fun, and living a life without him that he promised he'd never lead on his own.

Ray was abandoned, forgotten, and left behind.

This red is wrong.

This face is wrong.

These eyes are wrong.

This body is wrong, wrong, wrong—

The bleach burns his scalp before he has time to process what he's doing. He doesn't care how he removes the color, just that the color is removed as soon as possible, and that's why there's traces of pink in his hair... it's not intentional. It's what he misses every time he tries to stripe the color from his head. He always misses a few spots, and it's a damn wonder his hair doesn't look more patchy, but frying the color out of his scalp makes the bad feeling go away.

Until it comes back, of course.

Suit Saeran makes the sweetest of desserts. He makes them so he can stare at them just like he did in his childhood memories. The cake you saw in the dead of night when he mocked you? That cake is what his Mother used to make a mockery of him when he was hungry and all he had to eat was old slices of white bread. He hates white bread... he hates it so much because it tastes like the driest crumbs he had to eat to survive alongside Saeyoung.

You want to know the worst thing about salivating at a treat you're not allowed to have? You want it. You still want it even though you've been told you'll never be able to have what you want. You want it so bad that you'll run over every scenario in your mind to find a way to eat the smallest dollop and not get in trouble for it.

If you've spent a long time staring at something, you've imagined every scenario in the book to get into your clutches... and do you want to know the worst thing about those treats Saeran made to "taunt" you? He didn't eat them, either. He didn't eat the sweetest strawberry cake... he couldn't. Because, he remembers what it felt like to have food after denied for a few days after being brought to Mint Eye.

...And when he stopped screaming, they brought him food... and in that variety of food was a meal that anyone who was starving out of their mind could only dream of. You know what happened the exact second he took a bite of the sweetest thing on the place? It... tasted wrong. Every time he makes this particular treat, it tastes like poison. So, not only was he tormenting you, he was tormenting himself, that cake ended up on the floor because it tasted WRONG.

WRONG WRONG WRONG.

MINT EYE IS WRONG.

WRONG WRONG WRONG.

VAE Ray spent a few days in the rubble. It's a wonder he was able to survive in the first place. Jihyun had an operation to save his life from the elixir AND the stab wound. He was in the hospital for at least two to three days, and the only person who could've found him happens to be the same person who brings him out of the country to heal and recuperate for two and half years.

Can you imagine what it felt like to be in the rubble of a building you intentionally destroyed? To lay there for hours as the ash, soot, and God knows what else floated in the air all around you? To know that you can't do anything right, that you can't DIE RIGHT, and all of the people who promised they'd never leave you—left you?

To be unable to scream out for help because your lungs feel charred, to be unable to move because your entire body has been scorched from one side to the other? What was the meaning of your life? All you can do is lay there in the rubble, sobbing, because you can't get up, and every time you fade in and out of consciousness, you think it might be for the last time and maybe you'll be at peace next time and not wake up.

Or, maybe you are dead and this is just the hell you deserve to be in because you were never good enough for heaven, that's what you feel the longer you stay there... and you know the worst part? When Ray is found by Jihyun, it's not relief he feels, it's anger and fear, because he thinks Jihyun was sent there to mock him, bringing him false hope to believe he wasn't abandoned, but also fear, because part of him really didn't want to die but he saw no other option.

And underneath all of that?

Relief that feels like delusion because someone came back for him but it feels like it's too late to save his life.

SE Saeran doesn't sleep well at night. He lashes out, he kicks, and he screams. He has night terrors about Mint Eye. He has nightmares all about that place no matter how far away he is from that building and what it did to him. He has episodes where he wakes up and thinks he is back in his office, trembling, shaking, and his body pushes him to look for his desk to start working as soon as possible because he isn't in the mood to be punished again.

Nothing can stop these episodes, and while he is getting therapy and doing better during the daytime, nothing stops his nightmares, and it does keep him from sleeping with his possible partner. He has to stay in his own bed, possibly even his own room, while you video call each other from other sides of the house, and as painful as that is, it helps him feel safer than he would if he were to hurt you during one of the episodes.

God, you want to know the worst ones?

It's when he wakes up, screaming, and he has no choice but to sprint into the bathroom his brother built into his room to help him feel way more in control over his environment. He's sick, and once he's able to pull himself away from the toilet, he spends the next half-hour trying to burn his hands to remove the sticky feeling of V's blood from both of his hands.

He's trying to remove the feeling of Saeyoung's blood away from his hands, too. He has flashbacks about that day all the time, thinking his brother is dead and V is dead and it's all his fault and he needs to get rid of the blood because it feels wrong, and he's wrong, and he's just a PAWN WHO NEVER MATTERED BECAUSE—

RIKA SAID SHE WANTED HIS BROTHER. NOT HIM. SHE WANTED TO USE SAEYOUNG. NOT HIM. "USE" HIM. IT WAS NEVER REAL. IT WAS A LIE.

ALL A LIE.

Saeyoung can't stop looking over his shoulders no matter where he is. He can't stop looking. It doesn't matte where he is. He has to have a full view of the room he's in, and that means he spends his time on his phone looking for camera feeds and other means to control what he can in his environment. It's nice when he's in his bunker because he has a defense system and cameras all over the place. He's ready for war if it comes to that.

But, it's a horrible way to live your life, isn't it?

To be afraid and know that this paranoia you experience isn't just some fear you have that has nothing to warrant. His paranoia has a reason to exist and it doesn't matter when the party's over and his Father is out of the picture. He pissed off a lot of people during his years in the agency, and until all of those people are out of the way, he can't stop being afraid of losing his life, or being the reason why his loved ones lose their.

He has nightmares, too.

He wakes up in the dead of night, searching for the modified tablet on his bedside table, and he can't breathe until he checks the feed to make sure that nobody's come in or out of the house. Saeran doesn't mess with the system. In fact, SE Saeran doesn't want to touch any technology anymore, so Saeyoung never has to worry about his baby brother sneaking out or tampering with the system to leave.

But, still, he has to CHECK EVERYTHING.

Twice.

God forbid his MC left the room to get water and didn't leave him something to show they would be right now before he could check his system. I think you have to help him implement a system for his fears. He knows it can be overwhelming, he knows that most of his requests or fears come across as controlling, and God knows he is trying his best to be better about this, but... for his peace of mind, it's nice to know you left a plush or an object on your bed to say, "I'm just in the other room. Don't worry."

...He can't stop thinking about the damn near week he spent in that humid, agent-infested warehouse. His paranoia got that much worse after that experience. That's the nightmare he wakes up from most of the time if it's not about his childhood. That's what sets him off to be paranoid for the rest of the night. The fear of being cornered with not a single weapon to protect himself.

God forbid it happen to you or Saeran, too.

[reverie-darling]

HEY I SAW UR POST ‼️‼️

Can I know more abt ur hcs on Nodth African James? Its cool asf and I'm interested to know more 💚🍀🎀

HII IM GLAD YOU LIKED ITTT

Soo on my NA!James this is focused on Marocan/Algerian

I feel that his Arabic name would be either "Jasir(ja-sir n it means courageous/bold it's too on the nose tbh but it's pretty)" or "Jad and it means and bear w me on this serious hehehe"

Soo I don't think he's gonna like Kouskus like at all ,it feels like sand in his mouth and it doesn't fill him up and the vegetables get mixed up and he hates chickpeas and and- he can come up with a thousand reasons why he doesn't like it

by Effie makes it every Friday "it's tradition to do so James! deal with it" Soo boy eats noodles every Friday 😭 he'd pout about it

Sirius l o v e s Kouskus and doesn't get why James is so picky and eats it every Friday without fail- even gets second servings Effie is always telling James "look Sirius like it, you're just dramatic"

speaking of food, Sirius was used to your typical croissant and coffee french breakfast,so seeing a whole ass feast for breakfast was a jarring experience

I'm talking boiled eggs , coffee,milk, flatbread,homemade fresh and warm bread (Effie is an early bird and she bakes almost every morning) leben (fermented milk), garlic,olives , olive oil

like Monty eats raw garlic in the morning, Sirius is shocked,but then again that man has the power of horse,maybe that's why

also their coffee is strong and Effie drinks that shit black

James knows Arabic, french and English and some berber,so yeah, Sirius/regulus talking french ain't shit,he can n will keep up

he would listen to ray so muchh I hate him

he owns a djellaba and a burnous, Effie makes him wear them in Yannaer (berber's new year)

Effie does henna to both Sirius and James,but not full palm n fingers maybe just a bit in their pinkies

Effie is amazigh (berber) while Monty would probably be from Shlef or something

he would use the sound "aaaahhh" to express multiple emotions , it's like it's own language

Soo yeah, I don't have much bc I thought of him this morning but I'm sure I'll have more after he marinates in my head

[moonspirit]

Since we're giving Armin parent trauma...

HC that he's not used to small acts of affection. Mate gets a headpat and bluescreens.

Source?

We, we know that Eren and Mikasa care for him. He knows that Eren and Mikasa care for him. But those have always been big acts of affection. Eren pulling him out of the titan. Mikasa kicking the blade out of his hand that one time and then threatening to kill Levi. Scene he was unconscious for. Eren hugging him post Titanification.

Thing is, those are big things. I love mikasa but I'll be honest, up until the taking of Shiganshina, i was not sure she cared about Armin as much as she tolerated him bcs he was Eren's other soulmate.

( Armin and Mikasa would not pass an Eren based Bechtel test, but that's a rant for a diff time if anyone's interested)

My point is, Armin is not used to outward expressions of affection. If we are to add the " parents were more preoccupied with travelling than him" and the " you were the better choice to Erwin from a logical side", i feel like it could be interesting if Armin had a hard time accepting that people like him as a person.

So yeah, this is my rant/hc that Armin would be completely unprepared for casual affection and that Connie, Jean and Sasha would take advantage of that

( Annie too post canon. She leans into his ear and sais something sweet and Armin blushes worse than if she'd suggested exhibitionism)

Heeeelllo!

I agree y'know? I feel the same way. As you said, Armin knows Eren and Mikasa love him; it's not like he's oblivious to it.

His problem is that it's hard for him to take in this love and really absorb it because he doesn't see anything in himself worth loving. The things you've mentioned, i.e., his parents leaving him behind, the survivor's guilt + the pressure of living up to Erwin and failing - all meet here at this common point. He knows people love him, he knows they care and he knows it's not just because he can be useful in some ways. But as much as he can feel the love and even be comforted by it for a few moments, it's very hard to sustain that feeling over long periods of time.

I believe what will benefit Armin the most is to know that he's wanted.

Not 'needed', because the military needs him (a working brain + able bodied soldier), Mikasa needs him (to get through to Eren sometimes), Eren needs him (someone to talk to), the 104th needs him (because "sometimes" he comes up with good plans right?), but does anyone truly want him? Just for being him and nothing more?

Cuz if his parents didn't want him (a question he might have as he grows up), then who will? He was their only son after all.

So, back to what you say, any act of affection that drives home the point that Armin's simply wanted by the people around him is bound to affect him to the moon and back. He'll blush and stammer and not know what to do because it's an overwhelming surge of feelings he's not sure he deserves but they're there anyway, arresting his heartbeat.

This can be extremely wonderful to see during his cadet years if Jean, Sasha and Connie sling their arms over his shoulders and take him shopping because "We want to go shopping with you Armin!" or Marco and Reiner save him some special kind of bread in the mess hall during a morning he's running late for breakfast since, "We know you like this bread, Armin."

That aside, my personal favourite thing is to see him receiving this kind of love post rumbling because he's so broken and damaged at this point of time having committed more heinous crimes, and therefore being told and shown that he's wanted, so very very wanted, no matter how silly or serious or even sexual, over and over again across years, will really heal him.

Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me, this made me very happy :3

[breadandblankets]

CivE Duke - inspired by this post by mysterycitrus

This was one of Duke's favorite parts of his job. Not that one, the other one, the civilian one.

"Duke Thomas," his mother had told him when he got his engineer's seal crimp in the mail. "Is every bit Gotham's hero as much as The Signal is."

Every other week it seemed he donned his steel toed boots, hard hat, and high vis and went to look at the bones of some old building.

Most days were sat at his desk in a nice comfy high rise in Old Gotham, eyes glued to the searing white of some ancient as-builts on his screen. (As-builts, especially in Gotham, were more of a suggestion than a rule, his team had started calling them "Maybe-builts" and it fit more than he'd like.)

Gotham, in Duke's experience, had good bones for the most part. Even caked in years and years of grime, asbestos, and mob snitches, there was beauty in pulling away the facade to look at all that union-made bessemer steel.

Today on the chopping block was a Park Row mid-rise, slated for either refurbishment or demolition, all depending on Duke's word.

It wasn't anything even close to the rush of saving a life, but there is a light feeling he gets, knowing that some old structure can be reused.

Duke knows its a little silly to get sad when something old is beyond saving, especially when he signs over it's death.

"It's like a forest fire," his dad had told him once, after he watched his first controlled demolition. "You gotta burn out the dead things so new things can live."

This building though, Duke has a good feeling about it. Or at least that is what he tells his trainee, Ines, while he scans the building with his X-ray vision.

Ines Borja is a bright kid fresh from the hell that is Gotham U's CivE program, she's not a Gotham native but while living here she fell in love with the city (and it's cost of living). According to her, New York isn't much worse, Gotham's just weirder.

Weird is, unfortunately, Duke's bread and butter. They pick through delapidated rooms with crumbling sheet rock with mostly intact concrete encased steel. He spots some areas with crumbling concrete that he points out to Ines, who dutifully takes photos.

"Those are areas we'll need to test for water penetration and corrosion," Duke explains.

He's explaining other testing that will need to be done, radar of the foundation, metallurgical testing, etc, when they hear yelling outside.

For a moment Duke ignores it, but the hard walls carry echos of what's being said.

"I'm not going to ask again, your money asshole!"

The flat thud of a notebook hitting the ground is the last thing Ines hears as Duke takes off like a shot.

His site walk boots are heavy, much much heavier than his Signal boots. They're for protection and insulation from the hard concrete he has to stand on all day. They're so not meant for running, he thinks as he barrels out of the survey site and around the corner.

There are two figures in the alley when he stomps into the scene, slipping his hard hat off. The mugger is on the younger end, thats about all the analysis Duke gets to do before he sees the gun.

It's nice sometimes, Duke things, as he spins like a discus thrower, to fight normal city problems. He's liable to get bogged down in big world ending shit that sometimes its just nice to save a mugging victim.

The reinforced plastic leaves his fingers in a rush, aimed straight and true, slamming into the gun in the mugger's right hand.

Both the mugger and muggee have a moment of shock before Duke slams into the first guy like a freight train, knocking him out of the confrontation and onto the ground.

"I'd advise you sit down for a moment," Duke says to the would-be mugger, flatly. He turns to the shaking older man.

"Sir are you alright," he asks politely.

"I am now," the older man, well dressed but not wealthy in the way that Duke knows people in the town are. "Thank you very much."

"Alright then," Duke says calmly, he fishes in his pockets for one of the many business cards he always keeps on himself. It's for a therapist, and a good one in Duke's opinion. A profession in too short supply in Gotham. "Might be best if you get on with your day, I'll stay with this young gentleman here."

The older man is clearly a true Gothamite, because he doesn't protest, just moves along. Probably not even the most traumatic thing the guy's witnessed in the last year.

Duke turns to young man on the ground, who hasn't moved a muscle from where Duke put him just a second ago.

"Hey man I don't want any trouble."

Ines chooses this moment to catch up, her skin flushed and she's panting, She is still carrying all the gear with her, which no doubt slowed her down.

"Bit late for that yeah?" Duke questions with a raise of his brow, he motions with his chin in the direction of the gun. It's a couple yards off, resting comfortably with his hard hat. "What's your name?"

"David sir, i-its not even loaded, just to scare people a bit," all comes out in a rush, the young man, David, is clearly terrified.

"Hey, I know, it's hard out here," Duke placates. Out of one of the seemingly endless pockets on his work pants he pulls out his wallet. Out comes two more cards and a couple of bills. "Listen, here's fifty bucks, go get yourself something to eat."

"I-"

"Hold on, I'm not done," Duke says. "This is the information for Leslie's clinic down the street, she can help you with a lot, or just point you towards someone who can. If you need anything else this is the Wayne Ent outreach office, the director there is Elaine, tell her Duke sent you."

"You- you're not going to call the cops?" David asks, bewildered.

"And have them do what? You're robbing a man for twenty dollars with a gun that has no bullets," Duke observes. "You clearly don't need jail time you need a hand."

As if to illustrate his point, Duke reaches out to help him up. David hesitates for a split second, before accepting the offered hand.

"Seriously thought," Duke continues. "Leslie and m-Elaine helped me though some of the worst times of my life okay, reach out to them, they can help, you're not in this alone."

David looked like he was about to cry.

"Thank you man, just thank you."

"Just looking out for my fellow man," Duke replies. "Now get going I got work."

David laughs a little at that before shuffling awkwardly by Ines. Duke turns to look at her.

"You are like, officially the coolest boss I've ever had," she tells him seriously.

"No way, didn't your last boss bow hunt wild boar?"

"Yeah but that's jack all compared to my Apparently incredibly based current boss."

Duke chuckles: "You don't even know about my teenage years."

"What, you were doing child anti-cop anarco-communist action?"

"More or less."

"Based as fuck," she says, amazed.

Duke just shrugs.

"My mom always said: never accept the world as it is, make it better. And so I do, so i will."

Duke turns a little, to look back at the mid-rise that will have new life breathed into it sooner or later.

So I will.

[boyfeminism]

exploding

[lilybug-02]

Patience and responsibility....that's a promise....right?

Part 27 First || Previous || Next

--Full Series--

An exorcism? In my family-friendly Deltarune? It's more likely than you may think. The backgrounds here were very interesting! Much more complex than how I usually do them (especially that computer).

Player POV:

Feral energy.

[ferronickel]

Happy birthday @lilybug-02!

A version without devil bread under the cut:

[whaliiwatching]

noir’s got ritz

—

based on this post and rb’ed tags!!

[coolnonsenseworld]

I wanted to say that outside of semantics and divisions - I am simply happy to find communities that welcome with kindness - that welcome you by a good heart and not the ability to conform. I am happy for the opportunity to be surrounded by people who care. It's a funny world we live in - making the same mistakes over and over, multiplying the same suffering by billions. I don't think I hope for an utopia anymore, I don't think such a thing exists - but you can't call me hopeless either. And that's what matters.

As a side note - this piece is set in DanceAU, which might be better known to Patrons so far, but still it was the best and most fitting option for this occasion..... also there are 12 DanceAU pieces incoming, because I might be making another calendar so. get familiar with these mutts

[mugwot]

little guys for the little guy