#I LOVE THIS COMPARISON AHHH

[annoyingcat413]

I got a friend who took an interest in me and I became interested in her after she talked to me, she’s shorter than me, writes things really beautifully, is more social than me

Me: omg this is so johnlock coded

[sysig]

Just take things at your own pace, there’s no need to rush (Patreon)

[rebornofstars]

SCREAMING CRYING THRASHING LIKE A BEACHED WHALE

Fanart for "King of Hyrule" by @rebornofstars and the whole series of " Ganonrulie extended universe" by @toyouhellohowareyou and @nyastri

It’s a great story and I really like it! ( the picture without blood might give a wrong impression, but the fic is more body horror stuff so don’t read it if you don’t like that!)

Version with blood below cut, proceed with caution!

[fatelcved]

i've officially written and queued all my one-liners!! which became more like mini starters asdf but they're finished and i'm really happy that i managed that tonight :' )) i dunno if i'll do anything else tonight bc it's already kinda late, but there's always tomorrow hehe

[fallstaticexit]

Ahhh it's been 65 years, and I feel kinda crazy that I've had this sitting in my drafts for like 2 months. Assuming most readers of Missing Moments are also The Art of Being Seen readers- there's some hefty lore here that will come into play later.

prev/ next

Olive: Time to move on, right Kia?

[phone pings]

Nancy: Hello darling. Do you have a moment to talk?

Olive: Who’s this?

Olive: I don’t recall saying yes.

Nancy: [sighs] It feels so good to hear your voice again.

Olive: I only answered to tell you to block me.

Nancy: I would never.

Olive: Even though I asked?

Nancy: Well. I am incredibly selfish.

Olive: Why did you call me?

Nancy: I would like to see you, Olivia. Please.

Olive: I’m not for sale, sorry.

Nancy: I know. I wouldn’t want to meet on those terms again. If I could do it all over, I would have asked you to have dinner with me when I met you. I would have courted you properly, Olivia.

Olive: [scoffs] You would have gone to a strip club and asked a stripper to have dinner with you? Seriously? When would we have ever met under any other circumstance? It’s been made very clear to me how different we are. The only way this would have happened was if it were a fairy tale.

Nancy: What matters is, I have met you. I’ve experienced you and I can’t go back. My husband- my ex husband- he signed the petition for our divorce. I came out to him- officially. It’s over.

Olive: [stunned] That’s- that’s great. I am so happy for you-

Nancy: I’m leaving all of it. I’m starting over. All I want is you, if you’ll have me.

Olive: [sighs]

Nancy: Let’s just have one dinner and after we’ve talk, then you can decide. There’s so much I want to say, but I want to look you in the eyes as I say it.

Olive: One dinner?

Nancy: One dinner.

Nancy: May I see you tonight? I’ll send my driver and I’ll cook for you at my place. Anything you like.

Olive: Tonight is fine.. sure.

Nancy: [sighs happily] It’ll be hard not to kiss you the moment I see you-

Olive: Not too much, lover girl. It’s one dinner and I’m still very annoyed with you about all this, ok?

Nancy: Yes, my love. I’ll see you tonight.

Olive: And don’t look at me like that. It’s just dinner and a conversation, ok? I am not going to sleep with her ok?

Malcolm: Well. Now I see why my mother was so willing to ruin an entire empire over you. Those mugshots did you no justice.

Olive: What is this? Where’s Nancy?

Malcolm: I noticed our driver was heading this way, I figured I’d tag along. Sight see. Get in. Let’s chat.

Malcolm: I wonder if this feels like dejavu to my mother. She makes yet another thoughtless mistake and someone comes along to make it all go away. She has a nasty habit of that, you know.

Olive: Listen. I’m not feeling whatever family drama you all have going on. I don’t want to talk to you. I want to talk to Nancy.

Malcolm: I was raised by a narcissistic liar and a spineless coward. If I let this company fall apart, then wouldn’t it all had been for nothing?

Olive: [scoffs] So you want pity? I’m suppose to pity you? Give me a break.

Malcolm: Not pity, no. If anything, I pity you.

Olive: Is that right?

Malcolm: When it comes to success, you pale in comparison to your half siblings. You’ve financially crippled your parents in legal fees since your arrest and all you have to show for it is by shaking ass in a low end strip club in the Spice District. That’s right, I know alot about you Olivia Briar.

Malcolm: I know about that quaint little family of yours down in the country. I know about your niece’s struggling restaurant and her undocumented partner. Funny, he’s able to acquire loans under a fake name but there’s no records of a Noa Briar anywhere. I wonder what else your family is hiding.

Olive: [shaken] What is this about? Are you threatening me? What the fuck do you want?

Malcolm: I’m here to help you, not hurt you. One of the greatest lessons I’ve ever learned was the power of the dollar. I can make a lot of your problems go away with one deposit if you do just one thing.

Olive: [softly] ....What?

Malcolm: We’re going to turn around and park in front of your building. You’re going to go upstairs, pack up your things and then, you’re going to go back home to sweet old Henford. You’ll pay your parents back with the money you’ll receive from this arrangement and you’ll help your niece and nephew. All your problems - poof- gone.

Malcolm: All you have to do is walk away, and stay away. You see, my mother has a nasty debt to this family she still needs to pay. Don’t make it your burden.

[arminsumi]

🔞 playtime w enemy!gojo

g. satoru — さとる

NOTE: i think abt this idea all the time n i just thought id gift u all a piece of mean nasty enemy gojo lusting for u

WARNINGS — ignore errors pls, smut, he's mean he's a jerk but he kinda feels for u, blood mentions, fighting, m*sturbation, he jerkin it to a pic he snapped of ur defeated face 🫠 sexual tension, impact play (slapping n spanking), dirty talk, namecalling (sl*t, wh*re, b*tch, freak) and nicknames (bunny, sweetheart, baby), dirty talk, unprotected sex, taboo sex (fucking ur enemy) creampie, it's nasty im ngl, god kink thing??? he rlly cums n goes 🧍‍♀️, hairpulling

just... just enemy!gojo...

enemy!gojo kissing you like he's trying to kill you. you can feel this murderous rage on his lips after you fuck up his heroic plans.

and enemy!gojo fighting you like he's trying to get in your pants 🥴 he hates you so much, but let's be real he's in fucking denial and needs you so bad. after fights, he's cooped up in his bedroom jerking off to the memory of all those positions he put you in. ("ooh, well aren't you flexible?" he teases when he literally puts you into a full-nelson. "hey, if this whole villain business fails for you then you can be my personal pornstar.")

his whole body feels like it's on fire when you're throwing fists with him. he shakes not from exhaustion or pain but just pure sexual desire. he gets so upclose and personal with you, you're sure it's on purpose. when you're limp and defeated, he takes a victory picture :( grabs your jaw and says "smile for the camera! aw, pretty lil' loser. you're so photogenic!" and you know when he gets home, he's gonna jerk off to that.

he can barely take your martial arts seriously, because you're so fucking tiny and weak in comparison to him. enemy!gojo likes to remind you of that, when he has you on your knees with your nose dribbling blood.

"aw, sweetheart, you're so fucking weak it's kinda turning me on."

he's got a fistfull of your hair, forcing your head to tilt back so violently yet when you look up at him, you can't help but feel this raw sexual tension and primal need to kiss him and worship him.

"f—fuck you, gojo — y-you're a freak. you think you're god... but you're a monstrous freak."

he's looking at you. and you're not sure if that's a murderous look or a pure lustful look — is he gonna kill you or fuck you? in his mind, though, the idea of killing you long faded away; you're his favorite enemy. what would he do without you? fighting with you is just the best, he gets to joke and tease and flirt and pester you and see you enjoying it wholeheartedly.

"bunny, look how cute you are, bleeding for me."

when you try spit your blood at him to retaliate, he's considering pulling his zipper down and stuffing your stupid mouth full of his cock. now that would put him on a power trip like nothing else.

then imagine the day this needy, desperate man actually snaps. and you snap. and the both of you fuck like bunnies. panting and feral. he couldn't say no when you started begging on your bruised knees for him to just fuck you already, just split you open on his cock.

his thrusts are primal. he's mocking you, voice so venemously attractive.

"wh—what would your friends think now, huh? think they'd still trust you knowing how willingly you spread your fuckin' legs for me? you damn slut. 'seen the way you look at me, gets me hot every time. you don't have any fucking idea what you do to me, do you? ha—ahhh that's so good... that's so fucking good..." his voice is usually so composed even when fighting, but when he's balls deep fucking up your guts so passionately then his voice becomes strained.

and he loves hearing your cute dirty talk, but you've got such a small voice he thinks it's cutely pathetic.

"f-fuck, g-g—gooojo ~ ! fuck me like you hate me."

he chuckles, "oh, baby. i don't have to fake it. i hate you so — fucking — much — ahhh — damn bitch, making my life so hard the least y-you could do is let me have this pussy once a week."

"a-anything for you."

his heart flutters. why? you're his enemy he reminds himself and makes his thrusts meaner and harder until you can't form a coherent thought. he relishes in your screaming moans, and there's no end to the teasing. as soon as he notices something he comments on it.

"ooh, look at that little pussy cream for me. who's it creaming for? who? that's fucking right, me. yeah stay like that and take my cock."

"o—h my god, nnn ~ !" you squeal, feeling almost too good with your threatening orgasm.

"ah-ah, there's no god but me, baby. i'm the one making this pussy freak out. ooh... think you're right, i do have a god complex. why don't you indulge in it? yeah? c'mon, baby i'm your god."

"y—you're m-my g–god, satoruuuh ~ ! ow!"

he plants a hard slap to your face. you're no stranger to his mean slaps, in fact you've joked to yourself about being his favorite bitch to slap. but that one in particular hurt, and you loved it.

"don't say my fucking name like we're friends, you freak. f—fuck... you like that, don't you? yeah? little freaky bitch likes getting slapped? mmm that's cute. kinky litttle fucking whore, let's see how hard this pathetic pussy can cum."

he pumps his cock into you at such a mean angle that you completely lose yourself, babbling obscenities and trembling in his strong hold. you couldn't free yourself from his grip even if you wanted to; he's the strongest, after all.

you get a good idea of how strong he is when you fight and sneak off to fuck.

the way he presses down on your back, the way he bullies his cockhead so deep that it feels like he's in your tummy, the way he pulls both your arms back with a rough tug like you're a ragdoll — just his fleshlight that he can move on his cock himself however he likes because he's so much bigger than you.

"gonna cum, my little slut gonna take it? yeah? good. that's what i like to fucking hear — oh fuck — ahhhah cumming — hah fuck that's good — that's — mmm — that's my fuckin' girl."

he plants rough spanks to your ass, groaning so deeply and holding you so close against his body that you feel like you're one with him.

"ooh, fuck..." he pulls out hastily, zipping himself up. forehead and abs beading with sweat. "thanks, love playtime with you. now get the fuck out of my sight." he sounds so sweet and venomous that you can't tell if he's joking, but then you remember a cold hard fact;

gojo satoru is your enemy.

[mad-hunts]

trying not to focus on just how much blood there was on barton was perhaps the hardest task for matilda to undergo thus far. and that might be surprising, considering that stitching someone up was not usually an easy task. but her own sense of tiredness and worry seemed to reach a peak at that moment because it was upsetting to see someone you love injured. regardless of how bad it was, really. so matilda was sort of glad in a way that barton was asleep now because that meant she could finally let her feelings out. after snatching up one of the pillows that barton wasn't using, matilda held it up to her face before screaming in it.

why her father always had to get himself into deep trouble, she didn't know. but sometimes it angered matilda how reckless he could be. though she knew that it was likely that what barton had done to his head was done because it would help him and jervis escape, a part of her still wished he hadn't done it. just imagine if matilda's father had hit his head in a place that killed him. then, what would she do? what would they all do? matilda didn't even care about what jervis had done to her anymore. she had an image to uphold while barton was awake, that she was someone nonchalant and who kept her cool under pressure. but that couldn't always be true.

matilda flopped down at the very end of the bed then and unceremoniously removed the pillow from her face. looking up at barton from where she'd laid was difficult, but not impossible, so from her point of view — matilda could see that he was sweating in his sleep and she thought to get up then only to remove his shoes. barton's jacket came next, which was pretty bloody now, so hopefully that'd make him feel less hot. matilda discarded her own shoes next to his before looking into the corner of the warehouse once more. jervis was there, in all of his scared glory... she knew this. though matilda merely walked the opposite way towards the fridge in the area.

the first thing she took out was an iv bag and almost didn't take out two bottles of water but decided to in the end as well. grabbing any other things she might need for the iv was next. and although she had no clue how jervis would react to this, one of those bottles was placed on the floor near him once matilda reached his corner. she let out a shallow breath before saying, ❝ i'm sorry about grabbing you back there. i shouldn't have done that, but here's some water. ❞ matilda didn't stick around to hear what jervis had to say (if anything) about that, as her legs carried her back to barton's bedside. due to her having practiced doing it plenty of times, she was able to insert a port into his arm without much hassle, hooking the bag on the pole right next to the bed.

sliding down to sit in front of the bed is what matilda resigned to do to try to ease some of her own fatigue. gulping water down desperately as if she hadn't had anything to drink in forever might've looked a little weird, but she didn't care. matilda cleared her throat and projected her voice towards jervis then with a small, mischievous smile, ❝ so... do you want to hear about what they said about you two on the news, or what? because it was kind of funny in my opinion. ❞

The tension in the room was palpable, and the blood from the gashes on Barton's scalp still trickled slowly. Jervis watched Matilda from his vantage point in the shadows, crouching in the dimmest part of the room and holding his messenger bag tightly to his chest like a makeshift barrier. He could see the subtle clenching of her jaw as she surveyed her bruised wrist, the flicker of defiance in her eyes. He leaned back against the wall, letting out a slow breath as he glanced at Barton, who had finally succumbed to exhaustion, slumping into a restless sleep while she meticulously cleaned and stitched his wound.

His leg throbbed incessantly, as did his right shoulder from where Matilda's nails had unknowingly sunk deep into the old scar tissue there. Jervis pushed up his glasses, ran his fingers through his hair to shake off the sensation of tiny needles and threads poking at his head. The pin, still warm from his touch, gleamed in his other hand. He didn't want to use it again. He hadn't wanted any of this. Violence wasn't his nature, but desperation had driven him to actions he never thought he'd take, nearly led him to cross a line he hadn't dared consider broaching before now. Somehow, he doubted that would mollify the growing distance between himself and the Mathises.

You just had to let the side down again, didn't you, Jervis? The story of your life. Couldn't leave well enough alone. Were you hoping that Barton would beat the Bat or Gotham's boys in blue to the punch? Perhaps if he'd had a bigger knife... The faint outline of yet another scar, measuring roughly three inches in length, was just visible beneath his collar on the left side of Jervis’ neck. He felt a chill run down his spine as he envisioned Barton's blade or fingernails slicing through the scar tissue, imagined it tearing open and oozing blood and ichor like an overripe orange left out in the sun. It was no worse than what Jervis did to Marty’s partner, in the grand scheme of things, and only fair…

Matilda clearly wasn’t about to ask for his help, and he couldn’t blame her. The shadows in the room seemed to grow longer. As things currently stood, Jervis found himself at a crossroads. He could either make a quick escape before Barton recovered or Matilda carried out her threat. After all, he was no stranger to roughing it out in the open and maneuvering through dark alleys. However, Gotham was a different beast compared to London. Besides, if they truly wanted to follow through on their idea of killing him, he had half a mind to let them try, if only for some morbid curiosity. If nothing else, Jervis hoped that tonight's events had proved he was not one to go down without a fight, that he was prepared to do whatever it took to protect himself.

He shifted slightly, the movement drawing Matilda’s attention for a brief moment. Their eyes met, and in that instant, Jervis saw a flicker of something—perhaps understanding, more likely suspicion and resentment, or maybe just fatigue. He inclined his head and gave her a lopsided squint, before schooling his features into a fish-eyed mien and turning away. Apologies felt hollow, and explanations were pointless. He slid his gloved fingers back into his coat, and then reached for Alice's stuffed rabbit with a gentle touch.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

AHHH hii angel thank you so much for responding to my last request, it was more than perfect!! 💗

idk if you'd do this because it's a very sensitive topic and i don't want to make you feel uncomfortable but i need a little bit of comfort and reassurance since my bday is in like an hour hehe.. but can i have a bucky with a reader who's attempting to lose weight by dieting and working out but it kinda goes downhill (i think you know what I'm hinting at), and she's like a bit insecure and compares herself to models. and bucky finds out and helps her.. and just a bit angsty but turns out very fluffy with cuddles and stuff. you absolutely don't have to write this request if it's too overwhelming, lot's of love, take care! 💗💗💗💗

- 🦢

my love hi!! you’re more than welcome, glad you liked it!! happy belated birthday, hope you had a great day!! I love stuff like this so it’s no problem. sending love, hope you’re well. thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

SMALL CHANGES.

bucky barnes x fem!reader — angst & comfort

word count. 1073

warnings. potentially triggering content? mentions of dieting and working out. might be a hard read for some?

Comparison is the thief of joy. 

It's something you've always struggled with, the endless questioning of yourself, picking yourself apart in ways you believe you don't fit in. It's an easy habit to slip into but a difficult one to break out of. 

As of late, those feelings resurfaced - finding more and more 'faults' when you put yourself up against others. Models. It was as if you got sucked into a spiral of scrolling through images and doubting yourself, all of it leading to you curled up crying in bed. Always. 

No matter how upset you'd be, you'd still find yourself swiping up to see more - feeding that little gremlin in your mind. 

And after a little while, you decided you wanted to do something about those feelings - granted the reasoning behind it wasn't coming from a good place, but you'd be bettering yourself, and that's what you originally wanted.

So you changed your routine: waking up before six, secretly squeezing in an hour workout before joining Bucky on his morning runs, coming back home to have breakfast —an apple— then going about your day only to workout again once you get home. 

You thought food was the enemy, so you restricted yourself with crazy diets and regimes you hear about in Hollywood. You tried a water cleanse, a juice cleanse, keto, even fasting, but no matter how hard you thought you tried, your efforts would not be enough for what you wanted.

All it left you feeling was tired and crappy. No matter how much you hated your body, your body hated you more for what you were doing to it.

You thought you were being sneaky and secretive in the way you were going about it, but you couldn't be more wrong. Bucky, your boyfriend, knew something was running rampant in your mind: every dismissal of a snack you previously loved, every time he watched you dodge a mirror —or on the contrast of seeing you stare too long in one— all of it only confirming what he had hoped not to be true.

It's a sensitive topic, especially to bring up to a loved one. Bucky knew you weren't going to be forthcoming, so he wanted to take the first step.

You were in your shared bedroom, sorting through your dresser to find a clean pair of workout clothes - all of your others drenched in sweat from your previous workouts. 

"Hey, honey?" Bucky calls out, knocking on the ajar door. 

You turn around to see his sweet face, your own almost embarrassed from being caught. "Yeah?" 

"It's almost dinnertime. What do you say about going to that restaurant downtown? The one you love?" he asks, trying to scope you out.

"I have some stuff in the fridge. I bought a bunch of kale that needs eating before it goes bad," you reply, turning away, redirecting your focus to the clothes in your drawer.

Bucky leaves his spot in the doorframe, instead walking over to take a seat at the foot of the bed - behind from where you stand. "That's not food," he softly shakes his head. "Rabbits eat that. Let's get something good. What about a chicken sandwich? Pizza?"

"It is food," you reply. "Put on some pepper and olive oil, then bake it— it's good," you add, trying to convince him and yourself. 

He faintly sighs, resting his elbows on his knees. "No one likes kale."

"Maybe you're not cooking it right," you playfully protest, trying to distract him. 

"No, I cook it right," he stands up, walking to stand beside you. "We haven't gone out to eat for a while. I miss spending time with you like that."

You missed it too - far more than you'd ever anticipate. But you didn't want to slip up again. You already had a few times this week and you didn't want to make a habit of it. 

"I do, too, but I already ate. Maybe in the week?"

"What did you have?" he asks, craning his neck to look at your face.

You hesitate, not having an answer. "I can't remember."

He exhales weakly, your unknown confirmation making his heart sink. His hand reaches for yours, the act like he was pulling your attention back to him. "That means you haven't eaten," he utters, his tone soft - the meaning behind his words almost scolding. 

You feel cornered, and once again, you have no answer for him. 

His grip tightens, gently turning you back to him. "You need to eat, honey. Your body needs it... I know what you've been doing."

After hearing something you didn't want to, your stomach drops. Bucky knew.

"I should've said something when I noticed it," he shakes his head, feeling at fault. "You know you can't keep doing what you're doing?"

You nod meekly, avoiding his eyes. You did know that what you were doing was unhealthy, but you wanted to be like them. If they can do it, why can't you?

"Why have you been doing it?" he asks faintly, cocking his neck to meet your gaze.

"Are you telling me off?"

He's quick to shake his head, denying it almost instantly - both his palms reaching to cup your face. "God, no," his soft eyes bore into yours. "Of course not, honey. Never," he reassures, thumbs grazing over your cheeks. "I just want you to look after yourself."

"I do," you hesitate a response, the words delicate - almost inaudible.

"You don't," he mumbles. "The working out, not eating? You're hurting yourself," he pauses. "If you want to change, I can help you. But we'll do it the right way, okay? None of what you've been doing."

All you can do is nod, silently acknowledging your accidental wrongdoings.

"Just small changes," he leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips. "That's all you need, okay?"

"Okay," you faintly smile, agreeing to the help. 

"So," he starts, removing the placement on the sides of your face. "We're going to go out for dinner. And you're going to order whatever you want— whatever it is you've been wanting to eat," he pauses, noticing the hesitancy in your expression. "And we're going to order water instead of wine. Small changes."

The thought of ordering a meal you've restricted yourself from is enough to make your smile genuine. The idea of having your lover's support making it all that much easier.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Yandere MK11 + MK1 Raidens with the same darling

I got this idea from this post...although this isn't nsfw sorry lol

A/N: Does it count as a harem if it's only two? Who cares, this is for my baby girls. I love the Raidens so much (mk11 just a bit more tho lol)

Warnings: mentions of kidnapping, abusive themes, obession...ect..

Masterlist

Requests: open 24/7

Dynamics

Raiden (mk11) is the one calling the shots in the relationship. He's brooding and demanding, he's so selfish over you. He doesn't particularly like to share his things. He's much rougher with you and likes for you to comply with whatever he has in store that particular day. You're his. And only his, he's only allowed for his younger counterpart to have access to you because,,, well...it's technically still him. Truthfully though I think he's a jealous diva. He doesn't like how youthful and relatable Raiden(mk1) is to you. He feels like he's in a competition and needs to assert his superiority over him. toxic power play over both of you.

Raiden(mk1) doesn't mind taking the backseat to the relationship. He's not really looking for a fight with the older man, he's just here for you. Honestly, he's just happy that he's not alone in his sinful desires for you, that even his other self is just as sick in the head as he. In comparison this Raiden is a lot kinder. he doesn’t speak down to you or is nearly as demanding. He almost appears to be genuine about his “love” for you..just a little screwed.

One thing that both Raiden's bond over is their jealousy. One or the other is always closely lurking around you. Even in their sky temple where you'd think you'd be free to roam, they are always supervising. Younger Raiden is a dirty little snitch and will promptly tell (Mk11) Raiden about you talking to a male servant a little too long. It's a sick pleasure for them really, they enjoy keeping you in line and showing others who you belong to. They sometimes will find themselves boasting about the things they did to their poor unsuspecting victims and collaborating on methods of torture. It's a bonding moment. truly.

As much as the older Raiden is a grump towards the younger, he's rather inventive when it comes to guiding him through the relationship. Unexpectedly reassuring at times and helps younger Raiden gain confidence with you. Younger Raiden will help out too where the older one lacks which is usually emotional intelligence. He helps (mk11) with gifts and compliments to give you. ahhh they so cute together.

Do they feel guilty?

(Mk11) Raiden feels absolutely no shame, guilt or remorse for his actions. He's a corrupt tyrant who loves his place in your life. Taking you captive and devoting his life to you is nothing he should regret, it's an honor to be your protector. Dark Raiden is far gone and is unwavering in his beliefs, no matter how deluded they may be. You will soon come to understand that this new life is the best one for you...he'll make sure of it.

"This is for your greater good, my dear. It's far too unsafe out there without you being under our protection and care."

(MK1) He feels a bit shameful, this isn't the morals he's grown up on. It's quite embarrassing at times how enthralled he is with you, how easily he melts at your will. You probably think he's pathetic in comparison to his older self. He's not nearly as confident or self-righteous. But even so these feelings aren't enough to ever stop him in his tracks. You do rightfully belong to them, and though he's not one to be quick to anger, he'd easily find himself bashing someone in for trying to take you away.

How do they show their affection?

(mk11) Raiden maybe isn't as outwardly sweet as his younger counter part. He shows his love by providing for and protecting you. He allows you to be near while he works on things and makes attempts to conversate. When he controls and corrects you, that's his way of showing he cares. All the deep lovely dovey stuff, he couldn't really care for. He doesn't fully understand all the emotional needs and wants that humans have. His actions can come off rather surface level or even like he's not as in love with you as he truly is. Everything he does is romantic and thoughtful in his own twisted mind. Its a struggle but he gives you everything and makes sure you're safe...what more can a devotee offer?

(mk1) Raiden is the one you go to get all your emotional needs. He's a sucker for you and very charming too. When you're crying, scared or upset, he will comfort you. Raiden understands your emotions on a deeper level since he's an earthrelmer. Raiden loves to compliment you often and worship every part of you. You don't have to ask to hold his hand or to cuddle, just do it. He is always more than happy to satisfy any needs. He's such a blusher and I like to think his heart still beats fast whenever you touch or look at him.

Both are feral for your affection. Older Raiden might not react much to your compliments but he holds on to every single one and it makes him spiral deeper into his insanity. Younger Raiden is always very verbally thankful for your love. Even gifts you with your favorite desserts or flowers as a gesture in return. Oh They love you. *will both kiss your feet if you asked*

Trying to escape?

Yeah no. It's stupid for you to even think for a second that you can get away. Two champions holding you hostage? One is like a million years old and extremely experienced and the other was literally created to be a diet version of him.(lmao don't come for me)

If you should escape (mk11) Raiden will be furious about this. He's the one that found your ass and is dragging you back to his temple. This isn't just some light situation, your actions are telling him that you're unhappy. How can you be unhappy when you're revered to wits end? Everything you could want or ask for is at your foot..you ungrateful girl-

(mk1) Raiden had to step in between you two because the ways things were looking, your punishment wasn't going to be pretty. Don't be fooled though, he's rather upset you wanted to leave him but he still loves you. He somehow convinces Raiden to let up on you and to give you a lighter sentence like isolation. He's super pouty and manipulative towards you for the next couple of days. I just know he's the best guilt-tripper and breaks you down into sobbing at their feet..you beg and whine for forgiveness and find yourself spewing declarations of love to them.

"Now I got you out of your stupid mess, y/n. Why don't you be good and tell Raiden how much you love him? I can't hold him off forever and I'm not sure how much electroshock therapy you can handle."

Do you think (mk1) Raden would be right over (mk11) Raiden's shoulder while he punishes you? Like he's feeling super bad about it and trying to give you "reassurance" he's actually just taunting you and egging on Raiden. Deep down he's kind of enjoying it. Like he knows this is deserved and is happy that after this you surely won't leave them again hehe..

Okay i have to stop because i don't wanna slip up and start writing nsfw LMAOOO

[butterysalt]

Ahhh thoughts about Laios Touden who would love you regardless of who you were. Your species, your race, your gender, your sexuality, none of those things matter in his eyes. Because to him, what makes you so wonderful and easy to love is that you’re simply just you. And there’s no other combination like you.

I get especially sappy thinking about it if you’re a tallman, too. At first, it seems like Laios couldn’t care less about humans. He always talks about how boring he finds his own race in comparison to others but it’s all heavily influenced by his own experiences growing up and being ostracized and bullied by those around him.

But just think about what it’s like when he meets you, another tallman. Yes, you’re human, but when he realizes that you won’t treat him differently for the way he is, he sees you as so much more than that. So what if you’re a tallman? A little thing like that doesn’t matter to him.

It’s not just that you’re “different from other tallmen”… it’s because you’re you. And he’s him.

Nothing more than that.

In an odd unlikely twist of fate, it seems that this time, the mundanity of it all is what completely captured Laios’s heart.

Just… you.

[miwiheroes]

What is your favorite way lighting has been used in any byler scene?

OH MY GOSH ARE U KIDDINGGGGG

THERES SO MANY TO CHOOOOOOSE FROM AHHH

COULD BE THE WHOLE ROLLER RINK FIGHT,,, it literally had blue and yellow lights everywhere, not only behind them in neon, but also shining on their faces too

could also be this scene with the rearview mirror shot is amazing because SOMEHOW they managed to get the fucking lights above and below the rearview TO MATCH WITH THEIR SHIRTS,,,, and and and the hearts in their eyes are insane i love the duffers sometimes

BUT ALAS!!! THAT ALL PALES IN COMPARISON TO THIS ABSOLUTE BEAUTY!!!!!! this is the best byler scene ever change my mIND

[samkerrworshipper]

Please could you do an imagine with Lucy bronze where the reader is also on the England team and gets injured during a game and Lucy is basically just being really cute and fluffy as well as a little protective 🥰

AHHH

I loved this request sm so here you go!

i feel like this could be followed up with a part 2 to expand on the reader and lucy’s relationship so lmk if you want to see that! also please feel free to keep sending in requests god knows i need inspo rn lol

A shoulder to cry on

Lucy Bronze x Reader

fluff, lil bit of angst, injury, graphic injury, pain, hurt/comfort, 3200 words

blurb: when lucy’s girlfriend goes down in a match how does she deal with it and how does lucy look react

I was too busy watching the ball flying towards goal to see the body flying at me. Too busy focusing on the Australian goalkeeper to acknowledge the knees slowly sliding under my own feet. Too busy focusing on getting my team a goal to give us a chance to stop myself from being floored by the Australian whirlwind, Ellie Carpenter. I went head first into the turf, my body flopping down onto the grass with my head dug into the dirt. My ears were ringing and I was a groaning mess. My whole body hurt and I couldn’t even muster the energy to turn over to access the damage that had been inflicted. All I could feel was gut wrenching pain, from my feet all the way to my hip.

When I was finally turned over I was met with the sight of Ellie and Steph Catley, two Australians that I didn’t want to see right now. I was a screaming, shaking, crying mess. Both women were very clearly taken aback by my emotion. The stadium was a ruckus, and as my teary eyes flashed up I saw my goal being replayed on the big screen, a goal. At least that was something, I’d done something to help us claw our way back. We were 100 days off from the World Cup start though, 100 days. Judging by the amount of pain I was in though that was nowhere near enough time.

As a professional athlete there is always the background fear that you are going to get injured. An overwhelming worry constantly in the back of your head that maybe this time it is going to be your last, maybe the next time you step on the field it might be the last time in a while. As you become a professional, as you start playing for your nation you learn to silence that part of your brain, you can’t afford to live in fear that you are going to get hurt. But watching teammates, friends, people you love get hurt, reinstalls that part of your brain, makes you wonder if maybe you are next, maybe next time it’ll be your turn. That fear though, it’s nothing in comparison to actually getting hurt, nothing in comparison to realising maybe this time it actually is your last.

That was all I could think about as the two Australian women tried to talk to me, tried to communicate with me. The first one of my teammates to rush over was Leah, who shoved both Australians away before crouching down beside me.

“Hey y/n, take a deep breath, the medics are about to get here, you don’t need to worry.”

Leah’s words were like a breath of fresh air, a break from the constant ringing in my ears.

“L-ucy, need Lucy.”

Leah nodded at me, smiling down at my face and nodding. Her hand made it’s way down to my face and wiped away the tears that were falling.

“She’s on her way angel, just stay patient for me, she’s making her way over, just take those deep breaths.”

“Hurts, hurts so fucking bad.”

Leah nodded at me, I watched her eyes creep down my body to my legs and that was how I knew it was bad, because not even Leah could avoid looking.

“I know, I know angel, I am so sorry that I can’t do anything about that. Just keep taking those deep breaths for me.”

I couldn’t help but continue to sob as I waited for someone, anyone to give me some kind of relief. All I could feel was pain and it was clear in Leah’s mannerisms that she didn’t really know how to help me, how was she supposed to help me?

“Y/n, listen to me, take a deep breath, I know you are in pain, the medics are getting here as fast as they can so you just need to take some deep breaths.”

It didn’t help that we were positioned on the opposite side of the field that the medics would be on and it was also a problem that if the umpire hadn’t blown her whistle they wouldn’t be allowed on.

“How bad is it?”

The words left my mouth in between sobs and breaths. Leah clearly didn’t know what to say, she clearly didn’t want to worry me any more but Leah wasn’t a good liar and she had a shit poker face.

“Don’t worry about that, keep your eyes on me. It’s just me and you, kiddo.”

Leah had taken me under her wing long ago, she treated me like her little sister.

I watched her eyes flash up in a panic and before I knew it she was jumping off of her feet and rushing off in the direction behind my head. I couldn’t help but turn my head to watch where she was going. I was still a little bit spaced out so it took me a few seconds to spot her out but once I did I found her rushing towards Ellie, who was sitting a few metres behind me. I couldn’t figure out why she was rushing over until I spotted Lucy approaching, running towards her, a look of absolute anger on her face. Leah was trying to get to her before Lucy inevitably got to Ellie. I watched it unfold as Lucy just made it to Ellie before Leah did, yanking her up by under her armpits.

I didn’t get to see much more, my head was pulled back to being flat on the turf by Millie and Sam Kerr, my ex-teammates from Chelsea.

“Hey y/n/n, the medics are just about to get here, it’s going to be alright.”

Millie’s tone of voice was similar to that of Leah’s, calm, patient, the voice of a captain.

“I need Lucy.”

Lucy was my other half. The love of my life, my everything. I wanted her, I wanted her to be there to hold my hand and to tell me that everything was going to be fine, even if it wasn’t.

“I know, Leah’s sorting her out, she’ll be here in a minute.”

Lucy was insanely protective over me, to a concerning degree. In the past year I’d made the decision to move to Barca, to be with her and it had been great but something I’d learnt from playing alongside her regularly was that she was a little bit too protective over the people she loved. A defender did so much as foul me on the pitch and she did everything in her power to seek some sort of revenge whether it was in the form of physically hurting them or doing anything in her power to get to them.

“I need her Mil, please.”

Millie nodded at me and then looked at Sam, I was in fucking shambles.

“I’ll go get her okay, feel better kid.”

Sam patted me gently on the shoulder before leaving just me and Millie. I was still lying on the pitch, fighting back more tears as I looked up into the sky and just prayed for this to all be over, for the pain to subside and for everything to just dissipate.

The medics were the next people to make it over to us, accompanied by Sarina and our trainer. The game had obviously been stopped for me so they seemed to be in a rush to get me off, with my goal we had a shot at winning now.

“Hi Ms y/l/n, how are you feeling?”

“In pain.”

My answer was flat and the medic let out an empty laugh at my reply.

“Okay, on a scale of 1-10 where would you put yourself at?”

“A 6.”

Sarina snorted at my reply, she knew that I had a high threshold for pain, I’d met her originally when I was playing as a rookie for Chelsea, she’d been the Netherlands coach at time and the coach for a professional team in the Netherlands which she’d tried to recruit me for but I’d turned her down. I’d never have guessed a few years later she would be coaching me on a National level.

“That means its a nine.”

I glared at Sarina, she knew me a little bit too well.

“Okay, this is a penthrox whistle, it should administer immediate pain relief, enough that we should be able to get you on the stretcher and off the pitch.”

I looked at Millie, then at Sarina, then at the Medic, immediately shaking my head.

“I’m walking off.”

All of their faces told me that I was missing something.

“I can’t allow you to do that.”

In all of the chaos, all of the emergence, I hadn’t had the opportunity to even look at the source of my pain.

Before I could say anything more Lucy was crouching down beside my head and I couldn’t have been more grateful to see her. Her hand slid into mine and just her face, her smile, it was enough to make me feel like I wasn’t fighting a fucking battle.

“Luce, can you please tell them to let me walk off the pitch, just let me have that.”

I was fighting back tears and I could tell that Lucy was fighting an internal battle. Her eyes flashed down to my legs and then back to my face and just the split second gasp was enough to tell me that it was bad, really bad. Her hand fell to my face and that was how I knew it was not good and that was when I started sobbing again.

“How bad is it? Stop beating around the bush just tell me.”

All of the people above me looked between each other before the medic spoke,

“Your knee is dislocated, you’ve got some deep lacerations and stud marks in your shins and a piece of your tibia is sticking out of one of them. You are bleeding a lot, we need to get you off the field and to hospital, take the green whistle and we’ll get you off the field as soon as possible.”

Those words hurt, a lot, more than the injury itself. I nodded to the medic, I wasn’t walking off the field with that list of injuries, I was surprised I was still conscious with that comprise of injuries.

“Baby, just take the pain meds, you're in enough pain.”

Lucy’s voice, her convincing was probably the only thing that made me nod my head and let them pass me the inhaler. I got straight to inhaling it, and within the first ten or so inhalation I felt the pain relief start to kick in. It was good, it made me feel almost ten times better. Lucy was there the whole time, whispering sweet nothings into my ear as they medic attended to my legs and Sarina wrapped a blanket around my shivering upper half.

It was about five minutes before I was floating on a pain free drug induced cloud. When that happened they started to transfer me to the stretcher, with the help of Sarina, Lucy, Millie, Leah and the two medics. It was a touchy process, they were very clearly trying to keep the movement of my leg limited. The actual movement of getting me onto the stretcher had me screaming, pain relief or not it hurt insanely and I knew at that moment that my World Cup dreams were pretty much over. I cried the whole way to the ambulance. Lucy and my teammates had to desert me once I made it over to the sideline so they could finish off the game, eventually, along the way I passed out from the mixture of drugs and blood loss, something I was grateful for.

When I started to stir I had a headache but I felt warm. It took me a few seconds before I cracked my eyes, it was dark outside, my room was dark. But not so dark that I couldn’t make out everything around me, the lights from the hallway and machines giving me a steady source of light. The first thing that I saw was that a big percentage of the Lionesses were piled into the room, Georgia, Leah and Keira and piled onto a pull out sofa, Rachel, Millie and Mary sharing the spare cot beside me and a few of the other girls scattered in seats across the room. It was cute, looking at all of my teammates who were clearly gassed from the game but still here. Sarina and Lucy were slumped in the seats immediately to my side. Just as I let my eyes float over to Lucy her own blueish eyes tiredly connecting with my own. A tight lipped smile made its way to her mouth as she acknowledged me.

“Hey baby.”

Her voice was hushed, it was clear she was trying her hardest not to awaken any of our teammates. As she blinked away the sleep she slipped her glasses over her face, locking her eyes properly with me once the frames were slipped over her eyes. Her voice was enough to put more tears in my eyes, I was pretty sure I’d cried enough tears for about six people.

She stood up quietly, letting her hand fall to my face, gently rubbing a circle against my cheek. It was enough to have my lip trembling and my eyes darting across the room. Before I knew it I was a pleading staggering mess.

“Why me? Why now?”

Lucy’s facial expression just broke into a frown and I could feel her worrying from a few centimetres away from me. Before she said anything she pressed her lips to my forehead. I sobbed into her, not really worried about waking up any of our companions.

“I know sweetheart, I know, it’s okay, I’m going to be here for you every step of the way.”

My breaths came out in hiccups and the hospital gown I was in clung to my body with the sweat that I was producing from working myself up.

“How bad is it, did we win?”

My words came out in pieces, it sounded like my Spanish, which was very rough and not very consistent.

“No, but don’t worry about that. They relocated your knee, you had to have surgery on your leg but it’s just a metal plate and some stitches for the lacerations from Carpenter’s boot.”

I honestly felt bad for the Australian defender, she’d had it bad enough with the press for the last while, let alone getting someone else’s blood all over their cleats.

“So my world cup dream is over.”

Lucy let the words hang in the air for a few seconds, it solidified the words in the room.

“Hey, not necessarily. The doctor said that the surgery went really well, that the fracture was pretty minor and that he expects a speedy recovery. You could be back running in 4-6 weeks.”

Even Lucy didn’t sound that optimistic, it was clear she was trying her hardest but she was struggling.

“My fitness will be shot, 4-6 weeks off the pitch pre world cup practically guarantees my spot gone, even if I’m running, in what world would Sarina take the chance of putting me on the pitch.”

Lucy’s brow furrowed, it was hard to catch in the dim light but I managed to with my eyes adjusting to the darkness.

“I won’t have anyone putting my girl down, especially not you. You will be fine. I can’t promise you that you will make it back on the pitch, you will make it to Australia, if it’s the right fit. Maybe it won’t be, maybe that’s fate and I know that’s shit to accept, shit to get the short straw and I am so sorry that you are in that position. If I could switch with you I would. I would do anything for you and you know that, I’ll be here for you everyday, I will give up anything to make this easier for you, I can promise you that. I can promise that I’m here to be whatever you need. You need a shoulder to cry on? I’ve got two. You need someone to listen? I’ve got two working ears and great advice if you want it. You need someone to just be here for you? I will sit with you for as long as you need.”

Lucy’s words hit home for me. She had always been willing to do anything for me, she’d walk to the ends of the earth to do anything for me, she’d made that clear from when we’d first met. I’d been apprehensive from the beginning but she’d fought and fought until I’d given into her and when I had I’d fallen head over heels in love with the woman.

I moved myself over in the bed and patted down next to the space I’d left open beside me. Luc seemed apprehensive to begin with, her eyes darting between my leg and my eyes.

“Please, I just want my girlfriend to hug me, can I have that?”

Lucy bit her lip, she was clearly a little bit nervous about the idea but her slumped shoulders and tired eyes were enough to tell me that she was tired and just as needy as I was. Neither of us slept well without the other, on the rare occasion that we were separated we both struggled with the loss of contact.

“I’m not sure y/n/n, I don’t want to hurt your leg.”

She was so cute when she was nervous, her voice a nervous murmur. I put her worry to rest fairly quickly though, the pain meds were running through my veins and I was equally as tired.

“Luce, my bad leg is on the other side, I just need some contact, I need to feel loved and comfortable and this hospital bed is making that hard, so please, just hug your girlfriend.”

Lucy sighed and nodded at me, she couldn’t deny me, ever, I had her wrapped around my little finger.

“Alright, how about I slide behind you and you can rest against me?”

It took a little bit of push and shove and some wincing and pain on my side but eventually we got Lucy situated behind me, up against the pillows. I was resting comfortably against her chest and stomach, my head resting in her neck. It was everything I’d needed to make me feel a little bit better and once we’d both gotten settled I smiled up at her gratefully. She pressed her lips to my forehead, I swore that I could feel the compassion behind it but maybe that was the morphine speaking.

“I love you.”

She’d smiled down in that goofy way that she did when I gave her a compliment. Lucy was a goofball, it was one of the things that I loved about her. She was always laughing and making people around her laugh, she was just full of good energy and it made me a better person.

“I love you too, my love, always, get some rest. It’s all going to be okay.”

[dangermousie]

It gets me so much how well this drama conveys the infatuation of first young love. The way SJ looks so pleased when he turns the fan on quietly to cool her down without waking her...

Or the way he notices a strand of hair blown onto her face and removes it but it's the feeling of it, the way he stares at the way the strand stick to her face - how well I remember that feeling, the feeling of the most mundane action or attribute of the person you are into being the most amazing discovery, the most fascinating thing because it's theirs.

And the hand comparison thing killed me! (Also, the size difference with this OTP in general is the stuff my dreams are made of!) But the way he looks as if he's about to dare the most unimaginable naughtyness...ahhh, they feel so young.

The way he bolts, shocked at himself and his own boldness, from the merest finger touch as if they'd gotten naked and to third base. I feel about a million years old watching them but in the best way.

[speaknow-sw]

Hello hello just wanted to give y’all a little treat about my boy Kurt cuz I’m going to the UK this week and idk if I’ll have any connexion so here’s a tiny drabble I made in case the 10/17/2024 fic doesn’t post herself. Heavily inspired by @bimbo-baggins2-0 and @can-i-be-your-blue <3 Enjoy lovelies !!!

TW : mdni, puppy play, mommy kink, master/pet, titty sucking, slight dumbification.

Kurt whimpers softly as you scratches his hair, the sensation sending shivers down his spine. He feels like a dog being praised by his master, and the comparison only serves to make him feel even more submissive.

When you presses his face against your breasts, he instinctively starts to suckle, his lips latching onto your nipple. He can taste the salt of your sweat, and it only makes him crave more. He sucks harder, his tongue flicking out to tease the hardened nub.

As he nurses from you, he feels a sense of peace wash over him. Everything else fades away - the sounds of the storm outside, the paranoia that constantly plagues him, the memories of war that haunt his dreams. In this moment, there is only you and the comfort you provides. 

He nuzzles deeper into your cleavage, his eyes fluttering closed as he loses himself in the sensation. He feels like a puppy, small and vulnerable, completely dependent on his owner for survival. It's a feeling he hasn't experienced since he was a child, and it's both terrifying and exhilarating.

"More," he whimpers against your skin, his voice muffled by your flesh. "Please, more." He doesn't know what he's begging for - more of your touch, more of your attention, more of this feeling of safety and belonging. All he knows is that he never wants this moment to end. 

"Shhh…sweet pup. Just suckle. You’re a dumb little puppy, let mommy take care of everything." You whispered softly, patting his head.

Kurt feels a deep sense of peace wash over him as your soothing words and gentle pats on his head lull him into a trance-like state. His eyes glaze over, pupils dilating as he stares up at you with pure adoration and submission.

He continues to suckle obediently at your breasts, his tongue swirling around each nipple in turn, savoring the taste of your skin. Soft whimpers and needy little whines escape him as he nurses, his body melting into yours.

In this moment, Kurt feels safe, protected, cared for. All his worries, his fears, his paranoia - it all fades away as he loses himself in your comforting presence. He feels small, vulnerable, completely dependent on you. Like a puppy being cradled by its mother.

"Mmmph...mmm..." Kurt hums contentedly around your nipple, the vibrations sending tingles through you. His large hands roam over your body possessively, kneading and caressing every curve.

He breaks away from your breast with a wet pop, panting softly. "Mommy..." he breathes, gazing up at you with half-lidded eyes clouded by lust and adoration. "Mommy take care of puppy... Please Mommy..."

His voice is a low, needy rumble in his chest. In this subspace, he's regressed to a primal, animalistic state. A big, strong man reduced to a whimpering, needy puppy by his mistress's touch. And he loves it.

"Dumb little puppy…what a sight… So sweet and sensitive, don’t you want belly rubs ? » You chuckled, patting his belly.

Kurt's eyes light up at the mention of belly rubs, his large frame shifting to expose his abdomen. "Y-Yes, please, Mommy. Puppy needs belly rubs. Puppy's belly is very sensitive."

He relaxes into your touch, arching his back ever so slightly as you starts rubbing his abdomen. His breathing becomes deeper and more relaxed, his muscles melting into the bed.

"Ahhh..." a soft sigh escapes him, his body trembling in pleasure. "That feels so good, Mommy. Puppy is so happy."

Kurt buries his face in the crook of your neck, his large hand covering your own as you rubs his belly. "Please never leave puppy, Mommy. Puppy needs you."

In this moment, Kurt feels more vulnerable than he ever has, his walls broken down by the loving, maternal care you provides. He's not just a man, a veteran, a security guard. In this space, he's a needy, submissive puppy, wholly reliant on his mistress. And in his heart, he knows that he's safe here.

[chaifootsteps]

i think the thing that makes toon-beetlebabes the optimal version of beetlebabes, particularly in comparison to the musical version of the ship, is that lydia is actually... nice.

musical lydia is funny in her meanness, but she is still mean. movie lydia is a lonely teenager masquerading (at least, thats how i interpreted it) as someone angstier and more uncaring than she really is.

cartoon lydia is cheerful and kind and intelligent, who at least tries politeness first before she decides if someone deserves it or not. cartoon lydia is unflappable in the face of beetlejuices gross and creepy habits — in fact, thats WHY she likes him so much. she's such a genuine person that her spooky interests dont come off as an aesthetic mask to bolster her attitude.

(now that i think about it, astrid from the film makes me think of almost a perfect mix of musical and toon lydia — she's surly and dismissive, and has an interest in protecting the environment).

of course, beetlejuice himself is half of this dynamic, and again i think the reason the cartoon version of this duo works so well is that lydia is the only person beetlejuice would go out of his way to do something nice for. i don't think he even considered the idea of being lonely before he met lydia, and then after becoming her friend he got to experience a range of emotions he didn't seem to comprehend or have access to before — he just likes her that much! he didn't give two shits about anyone before he met her.

musicaljuice kiiinda taps into that, but that version of beetlejuice was sad regardless of whether or not he knew lydia — he was just lonely and kind of pathetic and would try his "i'm your new best friend" shpeal on anyone who seemed remotely interested in letting him stick around (tbh a lot of his actions in the bulk of the show dont seem to match his dismissively murderous monologue in "the whole being dead thing" right at the beginning).

cartoon beetlejuice and lydia are such fully realized characters outside of their dynamic that it makes their scenes where they ARE together even better.

sorry if i said anything (read: everything) you've already said before but just... ahhh i LOVE toonbabes so much. it was the first proper ship i ever had, and it still remains extremely dear to me.

Agreed, 1000%. Toon Lydia is so beautifully confident in who she is and what she likes. She's kind and polite to just about everyone she meets, but she loves spooky things and bugs and, to the endless confusion of the people around her, Beetlejuice himself. And Beetlejuice loves that about her.

Quite literally the only thing toon Beetlebabes has working against it is the question of their ages, which everyone's got their own way of either approaching or headcanoning around...if it weren't for that, if Lydia were just stated to be 18 from the get-go, they'd be the Gomez and Morticia of '90s cartoons. They're two people who love everything about each other, support each other endlessly, build off one another to become better people, and spend every day together happy that they met. They were very special to me as a kid, and they always will be.

[queenpiranhadon]

A/N: AHHH ONE MORE CHAPTER LEFT ARE YOU CRYING YET?? IK I AM 😭😭 Thank you @cashmoneyyysstuff for supporting me throughout everything. Here’s the masterlist!!!

Warning(s): Cursing, reader is the daughter of Aizawa, Shinso and Eri are biological siblings, reader is 20 years old, Reader uses "Cattus" as her alias, reader's nicknames are Cactus, Cattus and Cat, war, reader gets hurt and burned alive (a lot), reader runs away again, Kirishima’s just the best, character death, gore and blood, bad war descriptions lol what do you expect from me, reader is AFAB and female, ANGST, someone breaks into reader's house, Eri sleeps with reader bc she's traumatized, PTSD, mentions of burns

Pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴇɪɢʜᴛ: Retreat

When you wake up, you’re in Chiyo’s home - in the same bed you found your father in all those months ago. 

Your head feels like cotton, even blinking makes the world around you dizzying. Everything hurts, so much you feel nothing, pain so intense it’s numb. 

The last thing you remember was being burned alive. You mentally laugh at your predicament, feeling so out of it that you couldn’t bring yourself to physically do so. Why couldn’t you die?

Immediately, everything rushes back to you, but yet the answers brought forth bring too many questions for you to process. 

Was your family okay? Where’s Ejiro? Seriously, how are you not dead?

Just then, the door opens revealing your family rushing to your side, each with looks of either worry or relief on their faces. You smile weakly, but it lacks warmth. You’re too exhausted to show any form of genuinity. 

Eri takes your hand, sniffling softly, your heart breaking as you can do nothing but watch as your younger sister cries, in too much pain to really do anything. Hitoshi and your father stand there in silence comforting the young girl. 

Entering right behind them is Ejiro, who bursts in, with tears streaming down his face. 

“Cactus, you idiot.” he scolds, but you know he doesn’t mean it, choking on his own tears, enveloping you in his arms. You don’t realize you were crying until the rough pads of his fingers swipe across your face, callused skin felt scarily soft in comparison to your own charred flesh. 

“I missed you, Y/N.” he says, you want to respond, but your vocal chords were too damaged to create any noise. Your heart throbs, and more tears slip from your eyes. You were so glad Ejiro’s okay, but damn your head hurts, your body hurts, your heart hurts, it hurts to function at this point. 

Chiyo enters the room, shooing Ejiro and your family out, insisting that you need rest. You made a mental note to thank her later. You loved your family and Ejiro, but right now, you just wanted space to process everything. 

When they leave, you cry. Your life… it was gone, with these darn burns that covered your body, muscles weak and unusable- would you never be able to walk, run, fight anymore? The thought only makes you cry harder, heart aching from everything that’s happened, wishing that maybe, just maybe in another life, you could be happy. 

Maybe Bakugou would like you, maybe you never went to war and you could’ve happily with your father and siblings - you could’ve been Maid of Honor at Ochako and Izuku’s wedding, or judgmentally sit on the couch with your father and brother as Eri brings home her first boyfriend. 

You just wanted a chance to enjoy the mundane things in live, realizing with a sinking heart that you would never be able to - the chance gone before it was even presented to you.

Sleep overtook you soon enough, thanks to the sedatives Chiyo gave you, and you drifted off, finding solace in your subconscious. 

Why me?

***

It’s the dead of night when you wake again, with a pounding headache- a noise from somewhere in the room startling you awake. 

In the moonlight, you see two carmine eyes staring back at you. Immediately you think of Bakugou, body tensing up before you catch a glimpse of silver hair, realizing it’s your younger sister. 

She steps up to you, tears forming in her eyes again as she takes in your state, your skin black and pink at the same time- even a small gust on wind is enough to make you wince. 

“Hey Cattus.” she whispers, the old nickname turned new name startles you- given how much work you had put in to forget the name entirely, along with the memories that went with it. 

Eri gingerly brings her hand up to stroke your forehead, more tears slipping from her eyes. “I’m scared, Y/N. It’s just so terrifying seeing you like this, you always work so hard for us, I…hate that I never realized I took you for granted.”

Your eyes widened by a fraction, wishing you could talk and console her, telling her none of that was true, and that you owed it to her as her older sister - but you remained infuriatingly silent, frustrated by your lack of ability to do anything. 

Eri wipes her tears hastily and lets out a watery laugh. “Look at the irony- I’m taking care of you this time.” she takes your hand. “I’ve been working on something…before you woke up, I went to the markets and I found this mage…I got this vial from her. Well technically, I got two, but I wanted to make sure it worked before I gave it to you but anyways-”

Your sister cuts herself off, and looks at you, holding your gaze with determination. “While you were gone for those seven months, your garden died out, but I poured one of the vials over the roots- It grew back Y/N! Overnight! The only problem is they returned to their normal state after around two weeks, which was the night before you woke up. But the mage will be in town all month, so I can stock up and you can keep taking it until your body takes over naturally! I think… I think it’ll work.”

Your stare at her in disbelief. You were out for two weeks?! You couldn't believe it. You want to cry, you want to sing, you want to hug her, but you can’t. 

“I’ll make you better Y/N, I promise. It’s the least I can do.”

Eri gives you the vial that night, tilting your head back and tipping the concoction into your mouth, the liquid tasting strangely sour, but bitter as well. 

As soon as you swallow, you start to feel drowsy, falling asleep as Eri strokes your hair soothingly. 

***

When you wake up, your burns are gone. The hair that has been burnt off has grown to its normal length, and it doesn’t hurt to swallow anymore. 

Eri’s there by your side, curled up against you, asleep. 

“Morning ‘nana” you croak, tucking a strand of her hand behind her ear, unable to keep the smile out of your voice. It…worked?!

Eri’s red eyes blink open sleepily, disoriented before she realizes that you were speaking. 

“Y/N! It worked, oh thank the gods…” she whispers, holding you tight. 

You wrap your arms around her, and stare at the ceiling. The gods had given you another chance, even if only for a little over a week - but why? 

***

You spent the next few days relearning everything- from how to eat, walk, and eventually fight. Everything you knew was muscle memory, but with new muscles itself, you needed to adjust. 

Thankfully, Ejiro was there. That morning, after Eri left, your red headed friend had come in to stop by, already informed of the vial- and you explained everything. To say he was shocked was an understatement. 

After he got over it though, he did tease you the slightest bit about your crush, but left it alone for the most part, knowing that physical ailment and heartbreak were both terrible by themselves, but together they were terrible to deal with. According to him, the man named Dabi had escaped, but he and his men had fled after you had passed out- seeing Ejiro, Tenko, and the rest of his troop return, with the orders to protect the village after intercepting a message that was coincidentally meant for the troop that you had fought all the way back in the Chira Forest. Just the thought makes you think about Katsuki. 

First, he helped you walk, guiding you slowly around the room until you finally got the hang of it, laughing and jumping, and crying all at once as you slowly regained your life back. You’d never been more grateful for your best friend, helping you as he always had after your mother died, always being your rock. 

For once, you had hope. 

Slowly, you moved on from the mashed fruits and liquids, making your way to solid foods, starting with bread, to vegetables, and eventually you got used to using your jaws again too. It was funny you thought, getting so emotional over a loaf of bread, but the feeling of digesting solid food was so…liberating? At this point, you’d been healing your broken body for 9 days, feeling more like yourself each second. By the fifth day, Chiyo had decided to let you return home, the contents of the vial speeding up your recovery fairly quickly. 

And so, you started to train again. 

You found some more of the bladed stars your father had given you in your room, deciding that you should refresh on your aim. 

It didn’t go as you planned. You ended up impaling it in a nearby tree, one managed to get stuck on your roof, and another almost ended up killing your brother when he came outside to bring you a glass of water. 

But you couldn’t stop. 

By some miracle, your skills slowly improved throughout the day, your body remembering what to do- from stance to the smallest tensions your muscles needed to create.

It was sunset now, and you dropped your sword, falling into the soft grass below you and soaking in the coolness it provided, allowing yourself to let your body rest, sinking into the ground. 

But you couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was something you needed to do, something that you were missing. 

***

You invite Kirishima, Ochako, and Izuku over for dinner that night, and it’s almost like you’re taken back in time, to the night before your life changed. 

Your two childhood friends greet you with crushing hugs, a tearful reunion as they fret over you, checking for injuries. 

Ushering them all to the table, Hitoshi serves the food, bowls of salads, assorted fruits, and a plate of chicken - Kirishima’s favorite. 

You can’t bring yourself to eat though, picking at your food with a fork, and deciding that there was no point in sitting at the table and not doing anything. 

Excusing yourself from the table, you stand up and place a bowl over your food- intending to eat later. 

“I’m going to go over to Chiyo’s and ask for some pain medication.” you lie, smiling as you leave the dining room, a chorus of “Bye!”s heard from the table. Putting your boots on, you leave your home, sighing as fresh air fills your lungs. 

What’s wrong with me?! You think, as you walk down the cobbled stone path that leads to the center of town. You should be happy, you have your life back- what was happening? Why wasn’t everything back to normal- why couldn’t you go back to being who you were?!

When you reach the town square, you see a small boy huddle next to his sister, both most likely around Eri’s age, with tears streaming down both of their cheeks. Your older sister instincts kick in, and you rush to their side immediately. Their names come back to you, remembering how Chiyo used to babysit them, eventually ended up living with the Midoriyas after their father left to go work for King Nezu in the capital. 

“Katsuma, Mahero, is everything alright? Where’s In- Mrs. Midoriya?” you asked worriedly - before noticing the paper in their hands.

“Papa…he’s going to go fight the bad guys in the capital because all the troops are being sent there…but Papa can’t fight!” Mahero trembles, the worry evident in her voice. 

“I’m scared…” is all Katsuma says, barely a whisper.

Bad guys…in the capital?! How did Inimicus manage to infiltrate Vitoris?! Anxiety gnaws at you from the inside, but you push it down, knowing that your own worry would only agitate the children more. 

“I promise everything will be alright. Our army is strong- and your papa will come home safe. Now, let’s go find Inko.”

***

After returning the kids back to their parents, you finally assess the situation. Bakugou, Denki, Hanta, Genken, hell- even Fern Bat, they’d all be in the capital soon - with no way to know what they’re getting into. Dabi…he’d burn everything to ashes. You feel sick to your stomach at the thought. Your friends…dead? Bakugou may have broken your heart, sure - but you didn’t hate him enough to wish death upon him. 

Shit.

You knew what you had to do.

***

You really hated lying to your family - considering the first time you left without warning it didn’t end so well. 

How ironic is it, that for the second time in a row the night after having dinner with your friends and family, you decide to run to fight for your kingdom?

You get back home late that night, packing a small bag with a week’s worth of food - bread and some dried meat - slipping into your brother’s clothes and putting your hair into the same knot you did when you first left- the experience felt almost like a hallucination, as if you were sent back in time, relieving such a pivotal moment of your life. Except this time, you were prepared. You knew what you were getting yourself into. You had your sword, and your stars, and you knew what was coming.

It felt unreal- all the progress you made, finally coming home, getting your life back, only to go back to square one. 

You sighed. This better work.

***

Sneaking out of the house, you make your way down the cobbled path again, heading to the fields where you knew the horse you had rode here on all those months ago would be - having seen the steed galavanting around happily. You felt guilty, taking it away from its new home so soon, but you had to go, soon. 

However, you couldn’t find him, his distinctive white coat should’ve been a stark contrast to the darkness of the night, and yet he was nowhere to be seen.

In the midst of your anxious searching, you don’t realize the figure approaching you. 

“Where are you going?” 

You might as well have been scared shitless, hand on your sword- whirling around to meet a troubled pair of red eyes. 

“E-Ejiro…” you ask in disbelief. “How…”

“Y/N, you’re not that discreet.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You’re going to the capital, aren’t you?”

He phrased it like a statement, not a question. Were you really that easy to read? Or was it just because he knew you so well?

You can’t bring yourself to look at him, staring downwards. “Ejiro, I have to do this- they’re not going to stand a chance! You know what Dabi’s capable of, the whole future of Bellorant is in danger here!”

“Well what about you?!” Ejiro snaps, his voice low in order to not wake up the entire village, but it was deafening all the same. “What about your life, about your safety?! You were burned alive, Y/N- you’ve almost died, twice! You’ve only had a week to recover, you need rest!” 

You can only stare at him blankly, feeling your heart snap in two. “I need to do this, Ejiro. What’s the point of staying safe if this will eat away at me for the rest of my life?! I can’t do nothing- yes I’ve almost died twice, but I’m still alive right? That has to mean something.”

Ejiro sighs, and you can see the conflict in his eyes. Running his hand through his hair again he looks at you with a sad smile. “I can’t stop you, can I?”

You shake your head, returning your gaze to the ground. 

“Then I’m coming with you.”

Your head snaps up at that, opening your mouth to retaliate, but Ejiro beats you to it.

“You’re not the only one who's had to fight before. So if I can’t stop you, at least let me protect you.”

You feel the tears build up in your throat as you wrap your arms around your best friend, hoping the action is enough to convey your gratitude. You’d both come home safe, you promised to yourself, for Ejiro’s sake.

***

Due to last minute changes, you ended up buying some more food at the next village, letting your horse rest before continuing on your journey to the capital, using the map Bakugou had gave you when you made your way home seven months ago. 

“Hey…are you scared?” you ask, breaking the comfortable silence that settled between the two of you.

Ejiro looks at you, weighing his words before sighing. “Yeah.” he admits “I don’ t think I’ll ever not be.”

You appreciate his honesty, and yet - you can’t help but feel the knot in your stomach twist with uncertainty, subconsciously rubbing your index finger against your thumb.

Retreat. 

***

It’s been five days now, the sun sinking below the horizon as you approach the gates of Vitoris, dismounting your horse (that Ejiro now has affectionately named Samantha, even though your horse was a male) and setting him free, Ejiro following suit as you realize with a sinking heart that the gates are demolished, charred holes burnt through the once durable metal and the gated entrance blown wide open.

Shit.

Running past the gates, you see masses of soldiers, Inimicans and Bellorans alike. It’s a massacre, you see familiar faces from your own troop dead- and it’s horrifying. 

Drawing your sword, and Ejiro doing the same, you charge, fending off the black clad soldiers as best you can.

You try to formulate a plan, attempt to find out the easiest way to figure out how to end this quickly, but your mind is filled with thrust, parry, dodge, and so on, your mind trying to keep up with your body. Striking the last of them down, you spot a flash of bright yellow hair in your periphery. 

Denki! He was alone, fending off at least five men, and was bleeding from his torso. Shit!

You bolt for the blonde, leaving poor Ejiro to catch up with you, catching the five Inimicans by surprise as you slash at his back. 

One down. 

Four to go. You and Ejiro each take on one, while Denki takes on another, a deadly dance and a challenge too. Luckily, you knew this dance. 

You bring the butt of your sword crashing down onto the top of your opponent’s head - the impact strong enough to cause him to stumble back, giving you the opportunity to kick him in the chest, sending him flat on his back. He’s unconscious, the impact of the stoned pathways knocking him out. 

Wait. There were four soldiers you had to fight. Not three. 

Whirling around, you realize with a pounding heart that it’s too late - watching just as the fourth soldier impales Denki in the abdomen from behind. 

“DENKI!”

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