#I NEED TO HALLUCINATE HARDER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[buckysgrace]

Hello my sweet pumpkin pie🖤 6 for the hurt/comfort prompt (Billy) love you😘

CW: Thoughts about self-harm, vomiting, drug usage,

I love youuuuu my little apple tart <3

Also check out @sadhours fic The Diner! Totally got inspiration about Billy dealing with the after effects of the mindflayer from that fic. It's soooo good.

Things had been hard for Billy since the incident. He didn't want to talk about it. He did anything to avoid bringing it up, choosing to bury it deep within himself instead.

Days dragged by and nights were even worse. Majority of the time he felt numb, like time hadn't passed and it was rushing by all at the same time.

"You alright?"

"M'fine." He responded quickly, turning his gaze away from you. He appreciated you checking in on him, but sometimes it was too much. Too overbearing for him.

"If you need anything I'm here," You told him the same thing every day, like he might actually change his mind, "You're not alone." You promised, but he didn't feel like that was the truth. Not at all.

Sometimes that’s all he wanted was to simmer in his own thoughts, to be on his own without the care of anyone checking in on him. He was tired of people he didn’t know or care about looking at him like he was broken. Defeated. He had lived, but sometimes he wondered at what cost.

But then when he was by himself, he could feel his thoughts spiraling. Sometimes he'd stare at himself in the mirror, convinced that he could see a glimmer of something in his eyes. A darkness lurking.

Other times he'd get so sick, convinced that he had goo and other muck lingering in his system again. He'd do it until he dry heaved, his stomach void and empty.

Other times he swore that he could see something swimming in his arms, his blue veins now black and murky. That was when things would get worse, his paranoia gripping him so tightly that he wondered if it would be better to end things before he lost control again.

He had tried to fix it on his own by hitting up Eddie for something strong, but those only made his hallucinations worse. Reality slipped from his grasp in those moments, leaving him desperate and afraid.

He felt like a coward. Weak. Like something was wrong with him. Everyone else had packed up with their lives and moved on, but he was still stuck here. Stuck in the same depressing loop.

He was waiting, gripping the knife on one hand while he stared down at his veins with the other. The goo had just been there, he swore so. He had seen it. He had. And so he waited, determined to get rid of the parasite inside of him.

“What are you doing?” Your voice was panicked, snapping him out of his thoughts as he turned towards you. You quickly dropped the grocery bags onto the floor, various items of foods rolling in different directions as you rushed towards him.

"Do you see it?" He asked quickly, his lungs tight as he faced you. Your eyes lingered on his features before he thrusted his hands towards you, trying to get you to look at his arms.

"See what?" You asked gently, glancing at him softly as you removed the knife from his fingers. He felt numb, his veins burning like there was a fire spreading within him.

"My veins," He spit out, heart pulsing harder than it had ever before, "You don't see it?” He asked you seriously, desperate for your truth. He needed you to confirm it, to tell him that he wasn't crazy.

"It looks the same," You replied as you wrapped your fingers around his wrists so softly, inspecting his arms closely, "There's nothing there, Billy."

And sometimes hearing that was worse to him. He didn't want something to be wrong, but he wondered if it would be easier that way. If there was some cure for him. But it was just his imagination.

And then he felt the little cracks within him splintering open, tearing so roughly apart that he felt winded and weak. He fell to his knees, cheeks wet as his breathing came out labored. You were there with him, your arms strong around his waist as everything fell apart.

"I know it hurts right now," You told him gently but sternly, "But it won't always be this way." You promised as you cupped his face in your gently hands, looking at him sincerely. His mind continued to wander, unsure if things would ever get better. He had lost his mind.

"I don't know what to do." He admitted, sniffling as you wiped his tears away gently. You hummed softly, looking just as conflicted as he felt.

"We'll figure it out," You promised, giving his cheek a reassuring kiss, "We can work this out together. Maybe there's someone you can talk to." You started with, but he shook his head. No one would believe him. Or if they did, they'd probably experiment on him. He didn't want that.

"I'm fine," He mumbled softly, "I just let my imagination run wild." He dismissed himself, angrily wiping his tears away.

"I do think you saw something," You said gently, brushing your fingers through his wild hair, "But sometimes our minds can be mean to us. There's an answer out there, there has to be." You spoke reassuringly, but he was still uncertain. He felt like he'd be broken forever, trapped in this odd spot. But maybe you were right.

One step at a time.

[katyspersonal]

What does Dark Souls fandom ship.....?

Okay so... me and @val-of-the-north arrived to an unhappy conclusion that Dark Souls trilogy doesn't have 'legit' yuri ships?

Like I know that any yuri ship is valid because in Soulsborne we hardly get any lore so it DOES lay on our imagination, but hear me out; in Bloodborne and Elden Ring fandoms we have many "staple" ships such as Mariadeline, Finlenia, Yurimposter, Nephelika, Rom x Ebrietas, Rom x Yurie, Rennala x Marika (canon too), Henriett x Amelia, those two Nox women that put the first puppet experiment on themselves. Even Eileen x Doll, Ariadella, Maria x Doll, Annalise x Maria or Imposter x Iosefka @ all those Ranni x Melina tier ER ships when you go to the dark side. Even rareships like Maria x (female) Izzy, Maria x Eileen, Rom x (female) Caryll, Gratia x Maria, Kos x Flora or Wet Nurse x Queen Yharnam don't really make you question! And new ships keep popping up!

But with Dark Souls trilogy it's like.. *cicada noises*

It is either a crossover ship with another Soulsborne game (Maria x Friede is THE example), or a very random ship that doesn't have any substance/justification besides literally put two women together and Thats It (either porn addict reasons or spite FOR those porn addict reasons). I am not really sure, either 1) actually Dark Souls trilogy fandom has genuine yuri ships that are neither crossover or random but I am unaware and need to socialise with DS fans more ( @heraldofcrow let me know as the only member of Lore Council who isn't ridiculously asocial),

or 2) Dark Souls simply IS crafted like this with timeline and contexts so that one can't instantly deduce a genuine yuri ship, in WHICH case there is only ONE thing I can do to improve the situation:

[draconicace]

*does many scary but necessary life tasks* when will i be rewarded... when will i get to a save point please there's been so many boss rushes...

[swanpyart]

Honestly, there’s a lot of instances of the game where Jimmy’s intense rewriting of history really shows how delusional he is. And I don’t think these manifest from guilt, but from a victim-martyr complex: a lot of these are used to make himself look good to the audience, but the utter dissonance between these visions and reality make it terrifying instead.

1. The Birthday Party scene

It seems like something obviously scary, but it’s actually what Jimmy thinks his crew should do. He wants to be celebrated, wants to be admired, and up until he dies is still convinced he was just a well meaning guy who did his best. The party was not a guilt and fear ridden hallucination, but Jimmy deluding himself into thinking he’s the hero. His team should be thanking him and throwing him a party, even when they’re all dead by his own actions. In reality: there probably isn’t even any balloons or confetti, and all Curly sees is Jimmy and the rest of the corpses of the crew sitting at an empty table in a dark room.

2. Curly in the Chair attached to Wheels

The scene where Curly is attached to wheels that must be turned for his organs to sit right so you can feed him his leg is also a good example. This isn’t how bodies work, and Curly is a burn victim, so his internal organs being rearranged makes no actual sense; all of his health issues are external. No, this is what Jimmy thinks must happen; that Curly simply can’t keep down his food, and that all Jimmy needs to do is try harder to get him to eat it. Jimmy, in reality is probably just forcibly feeding Curly his own puked up leg chunk over and over again until Curly grows too tired to fight. And isn’t it like Jimmy to shove a square peg in a round hole and insist it’s the hole’s fault? Jimmy already has shown he’s perfectly fine with force feeding Curly already and is not afraid to get violent when doing so. The reality of that situation is that Curly was probably resisting as much as he physically could, but eventually grows too tired of the abuse and just gives in.

3. Swansea with an axe

And with Swansea, the entire sequence of Swansea chasing him around with an axe may be partially true, but a lot less even-sided in reality. Swansea was shown to have a temper, but killing Daisuke was horribly difficult and emotionally crushing, even if he wouldn’t admit it outright. Jimmy on the other hand clearly views Swansea as an axe wielding maniac who kills without remorse and wants to hoard the cryotank all to himself. I think Jimmy was hallucinating Swansea chasing him around, because I think it would be in character for Jimmy to witness Daisuke’s death at Swansea’s hands and, rather than think over his actions, instead become paranoid and fearful that Swansea would target him, too.

Cus think about it: while Swansea is bigger, he’s also a drunken old man whose grieving the loss of a kid he viewed like his own, while Jimmy is a comparar healthy younger man with a gun. Jimmy already has a track record for picking on those he sees as vulnerable (Anya being the only woman with her room not having a lock, Daisuke being the youngest and easy to influence, and Curly being physically disabled and unable to fight back). What’s more likely: that Swansea suddenly goes from sullen and mournful to an axe wielding maniac gunning for Jimmy’s blood, or that Jimmy is paranoid about an older grieving man and holds him at gunpoint to tie him to the chair?

Feel free to add more examples, this is fascinating

[teletubbyinlipstick]

Hybrid!Poly TF141 x Reader Rambles

Once again, I'm unsure what to say. I get high, I get horny for these men, and then I hallucinate scenarios with said men. Please enjoy, please feel free to send in anything about these boys! Requests are open! I really like this idea, and I might continue to add on to it. https://www.tumblr.com/teletubbyinlipstick/760241391145238528/more-hybridpoly-tf141-x-reader-pleaaasseeeee?source=share heres the second part!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

OwlHybridAU!

Captain Price has big wings. When spread, they're just shy of 26 ft. A beautiful array of ash and brindle the feathers are easily the length of your arm. He keeps them tucked nicely, looking smaller than they are. On the field, if it ever comes down to it and he needs his wings, the look on enemies' faces when they spread is, in Soaps words,"so fuckin hot."

No one disagrees.

Johnny's wings are a bit smaller, around 18ft they're a deep honey brown. In the light, in-between the feathers, an indigo blue shines just slightly. His are more pointy at the end, a ripple effect used for disguising. Simon loves nothing more than to preen him.

Usually it ends with Johnny face down, high whimpers in his throat.

Speaking of Simon, he has the biggest wings in TF141 at 30ft. They're midnight black with streaks of white. When he's moving fast, they look almost like lightning across a black sky. His second layer of feathers is a dark gray. It's hard to notice the difference, but once you do, it's harder not to notice. He's intimidating. He knows.

It's his kink.

Gaz has the prettiest wings, 20ft, and the sweetest cocoa color. He has dirty blonde undertones that fade into pure auburn. His feathers get ruffled a little easily and the boys love teasing him for it.

It's a group effort to preen his wings.

Now theres you, new to the group, younger than them at early-mid twenties. Assigned as a mate for the boys by the government in hopes of reproducing strong genes. You're a sweet little thing, lithe with a pudgy tummy. Your wings are only 15ft. And very fluffy, a gorgeous cream with strawberry blonde highlights. The edges appear light tawny.

You're very beautiful. And the boys fall in love almost immediately upon receiving your file. They nest for you, soft blankets and pillows and sweatshirts placed in the rec room for a cozy habitat. They're keen to meet you, forgoing preening their feathers the night before in hopes of pack bonding tomorrow with you.

So imagine when you end up being the most reclusive, quiet church mouse they've ever met. You speak maybe 3 sentences in total at the meeting. You were quick to bat Johnny's hand away when he reached for your shoulder for a friendly pat. Feathers ruffling just slightly.

They backed off.

Simon stood quiet the whole time, eyes zeroed in on you. Assessing.

They showed you the loft to your room. Simon kept a polite distance, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed. Gaz and Johnny were waiting for Price to make the first move and let you know about the nest they had secured for you in the rec area. But when you politely and quickly excused yourself and darted inside, closing the door with the resounding click. They realized you weren't going to the nest. Nor were you going to the rec room in general.

They slept in their shared king bed. The nest left cold and barren. Tears were wiped from Gaz's eyes, sweet cooing coming from the bed as the boys sought solstice for each other.

No one dried your tears, and you stayed curled in the corner of your bed. Scared. Alone. And unsure what the future will bring.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Coveted.

Pairing: Yandere!Geto x Reader (+Yandere!Gojo) [JJK].

Word Count: 1.1k.

TW: Set Two or Three Years Post KFC Break-Up, Intimidation, Prolonged Stalking, Future Dub/Con, Mentions of Non/Con, and Unbalanced Power Dynamics.

[Part Two]

“You’re Satoru’s date, right?��

The voice was masculine, deep and as rough as it could be without crossing the line into gravelly. You stiffened, squaring your shoulders and burrowing your nails into your palm as your eyes darted across the table – where a man with dark hair and an off-putting smile was currently sliding into the unoccupied side of your booth. He reached out, clearly planning to shake your hand, but when you failed to move, he only let out an airy chuckle, propping his chin on his fist as he went on. “I’m a friend of his – Geto Suguru. You can call me Suguru-chan, though. Has he already told you about me?”

He was dressed like he’d just rolled out of bed – his attire limited to a form-fitting black shirt and a pair of loose sweatpants in the same color, his hair pulled into a loose bun. His tone was friendly, light. You returned it with a dead-pan stare, hoping it conveyed the weight of your exhaustion. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Is that what he told you to say?” Another laugh, somehow more blood-chilling than the first. Your attention shifted outward, to the late-night diner where Gojo had asked you to meet him. There were only a few other customers, the skeleton of a proper staff, but single other person would’ve been one too many. You didn’t need to make a scene, not again, not after last time. “That sounds like him. He’s always been a stingy bastard.”

With a pressed frown, you pushed yourself to your feet, but Geto’s grin only broadened. He snapped his fingers and as if it’d only been waiting for a queue, a shape manifested at the end of your bench. You couldn’t bring yourself to look directly at it, but you saw enough out of the corner of your eye; a bulbous torso, shrunken arms, too many eyes to resemble any living thing. Instantly, what little courage you still had was replaced with a knot of dread, a bolt of pure anxiety. You half-expected it to lunge, to bite, to attack, but it didn’t move, only standing guard at the foot of your table.

It didn’t move, but it didn’t have to. In a moment, you’d fallen back into your seat and shoved yourself against the wall, fighting not to shake. It was a sight Geto seemed to take a particular joy in, letting his head lull to the side as he watched you curl into yourself. “You can see them. I was starting to think I had the wrong person.” A pause, a glance towards his summoned monster before his narrowed gaze skirted back to you. “Don’t be shy, now. How much did he tell you?”

It took you a moment to find your tongue, another to swallow back the tremor in your voice. "He said he could protect me.” It was harder to admit than you’d expected – not so much that you needed protection, but that there was something you needed protection from. You’d spent so long writing off your monsters as hallucinations that it was still a struggle to act like they were anything more. But, for as unwilling as you were to confront your little monsters, the resounding ache in your right leg where that thing had dug its claws into you was impossible to ignore. “He… he didn’t mention anyone else, but we’ve only spoken once. He was supposed to explain—” You gestured to the monster. “—all of this today.”

A slight hum, a look of genuine surprise. “So, he’s got some self-restraint after all! I thought he would’ve cracked months ago, considering how long he’s been following you around like a lost puppy.” He must’ve seen your expression fall, your posture slacken, because he didn’t wait for a response before going on. “I mean, you must’ve known that, at least. Did you think he’d play knight-in-shining-armor for just anyone?”

“I…” You trailed off quickly, shaking your head. “I don’t care. As long as he can protect me, I don’t care why he’s doing it.”

“That’s a dangerous thing to say. You wouldn’t want to make Satoru feel so replaceable, now, would you?”  

At that, you met his stare. “What do you want?”

His eyes skirted towards the monster, who took an obedient step back. For a second, you considered running, trying to slip away before the man in front of you or your newly-realized stalker could make you regret ever showing up at all, but Geto was quick to cut off your escape route, filling the empty space beside you before you could so much as pick which door you would barrel through on the way out. “Well, now that we’re on the same page,” Unlike his monster, he didn’t give you the option of leaving him in your peripheral; settling close enough for his leg to press into yours. At this proximity, you could pick up the smoke on his breath, the scent of stale gore clinging to him like a second skin. As if he’d just stepped out of a blood bath. “I’d like to make you an alternative offer.”

“You’d protect me?”

“Oh, I’d do more than just that.” His hand fell to your thigh. “I’d have everything you’ve ever been afraid of bowing to you by the end of the night.”

You swallowed dryly. “You didn’t answer my first question. What do you get out of helping me?”

His answer was nonverbal, but clear enough. With that same idle grin, he nodded toward the streaked window, to the building across the street. Your heart fell into your stomach. It was one of those sleazy, by-the-hour hotels – the sign missing more than a few letters and the parking lot as empty as the diner. It was the kind of place that you only went to for one thing, and you had a feeling Geto hadn’t found some miraculous second reason to want to be alone with you in one of those bug-infested rooms.

You weren’t sure why you said it. Maybe to buy yourself time. Maybe because you couldn’t stand the idea of being left in silence as what was left of your rational mind screamed at you to get out of there. “I don’t have any money.”

“It’ll be my treat.”

“What happens I refuse?”

“I kill everyone here,” His nails bit into exposed skin. “And then fuck you on this table while their bodies attract flies.”

You might’ve cried, if you hadn’t been so tired.

You might’ve done anything, if you could bring yourself to care about anything but keeping those awful creatures at a distance.

Stiffly, with your eyes shut and your teeth grit, you forced yourself to nod. Geto rewarded you with an impossibly wide grin, a breath of a laugh. “Smart little thing.”

This time, he didn’t pretend it was an option; reaching out, taking your trembling hand in his own, and squeezing so softly, you could almost convince yourself he was being gentle.

“It’s only a shame Satoru isn’t here to join us.”

[milkteahood]

together through it all

Simon Riley x fem!reader

Summary: being there for Simon during one of his many night terrors

“No! No! Fuck no! Please… please not her. DON’T TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME”

Sweat broke on Simon’s forehead as he jolted awake, gasping for air. Stumbling, almost as if running from something, he made it to the bathroom where he threw himself over the toilet, puking his guts out. His whole body was breaking in cold sweat, shaking, with a blurry vision.

He didn’t hear you come in and almost attacked you when you placed a hand on him. He stopped midway, eyes bloodshot, his body only shaking harder when he realized it was only you.

“Si? Baby, it’s ok” your soft voice echoed in his mind, hand running up and down his back as he started vomiting again.

It wasn’t the first time this happened. Simon had severe ptsd, and this reaction was nothing new. He tried to warn you, saying you wouldn’t be happy with him. To go find someone that can actually love you normally. But he didn’t get to decide for you. And over time you got better and better at helping him when needed.

“You’re ok Si” you spoke gently, using a towel to wipe the sweat off his face.

He didn’t respond, but when he finally looked up at you, his face was incredibly pale. His lips were losing color too, and his eyes were a little glossy. This panic attack was one of the worst you’d seen him have.

Your hands cupped his face, and without even realizing it, he leaned into your touch, almost to see if you were actually real.

“You’re ok now” you said. Again, he didn’t respond. His breathing was heavy, and he closed his eyes, leaning more into your touch.

You held him for a while, giving him time to relax. His head almost fell onto your chest and strong arms wrapped themselves around you. There was something different about all of it. The way he held you, as if he was almost afraid you would vanish into thin air.

“Do you feel alright enough to walk?” you asked, arms wrapped around his neck, holding his head close to your chest. He only nodded in response.

As you stood up, you gently helped him up too, using your body to support his.

Once you made it to the bedroom, he collapsed on the bed, but still refused to let go of you.

He didn’t speak, his body still slowly shaking as he buried his face deeper into your chest, taking in your scent, trying to convince himself you’re actually real. He’s not hallucinating. You’re indeed there, trying to wrap a blanket around him as he refuses to let you move.

Once the blanket was over both of you, you resumed your gentle touches, fingers running through his hair as his breathing was slowing. Your fingers worked like magic on him. Your patience, something he never saw himself worthy of. All the times he yelled at you during one of his episodes. And even now, he was about to attack you. He didn't understand why someone like you would put up with someone like him. He didn't deserve you, he was sure of that. But he will be damned before he lets anyone take you away from him.

“You’re ok now” you said again, kissing the top of his head “it’s just us here” you continued, nose nuzzling his hair.

He nodded, closing his eyes.

You only closed yours once you heard the soft snoring coming out of your lover’s mouth.

“I love you, Si” you said, earning yourself a little snore in return, which made you chuckle.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

If you want to could you please do a fic with Jason's Girlfriend (rather Arkham Night or when he is still early Red Hood) gets hit with Scarecrow's fear toxin and Jason is trying to help her through it or give her an antidote. But she is terrified of him and think he is attacking or trying to kill her. Maybe it's because while she does love him and he loves her she started working with him because she is helping Batman get Jason to hopefully see his family again and Jason does know so she is scared of his reaction. Sorry if that's confusing or a lot.

Thank you for reading whether you do the request or not

-🍓

Guilty Hearts

Hi 🍓! I know this took a while to get out but I hope you see it. I think we might be psychically linked because this came into my ask box while I was editing my other fear toxin fic. Enjoy! ~1k words

The Arkham Knight is going to destroy whoever caused you to get like this. He stands, ridged and protective, between you and the milita medics who are shifting uneasily behind him. You're curled into the corner of the room, knees to your chest and arms wrapped around yourself. He never breaks his gaze as you rock yourself, silent tears spilling down your cheeks.

Seventy-two minutes. That's how long you've been like this. Trapped in the nightmares of your mind's own creation, hallucinations caused by a dosage of Scarecrow's fear toxin. 

He doesn't know how you got like this, what happened, he didn't bother to ask when he was finally informed. The Arkham Knight just stormed his way to you. 

The medics managed to tell him that you've screamed your voice raw but still fought anyone who got close enough to try and stick you with the antidote. 'That's his partner,' he thinks. Always the fighter.

He scowls behind his helmet when he notices the self-inflicted scratch marks over your arms, a common reaction to the toxin. "Everybody out." He snaps, snatching a needle filled with the antidote from one the medics. They file out quickly, sensing his mood. They should be running. Everyone knows what you are to him. He's made it more than clear and the fact that you're suffering? The fact it took over an hour for him to be told? He'll make sure someone pays for that later.

But that is later, and this is now. You're what's most important. He tugs off his helmet once the last medic leaves the room and takes a step towards you.

You let out a raw, strangled cry with what's left of your voice. He doesn't know what you're seeing, what you think he is, but it makes his heart clench to see you so scared. He knows he can be frightening now, so different from what he used to be. But he'd never hurt you, never, not on purpose. 

The Arkham Knight crouches down to your level, and says your name softly, carefully, trying not to startle you. "I'm here to help, I promise, baby. I need you to trust me. I'm going to make it better." He soothes, creeping closer to you inch by inch. He makes sure to stay low, to make himself look smaller.

It doesn't seem to help, fresh tears fall faster from your eyes and you whimper. He repeats your name over and over, trying to draw you away from whatever fear is tormenting you. "Just hold on a little longer. It's going to be okay. I'm going to make it okay."

He shifts closer to you, reaches out one hand to try and touch you, and you bolt, scrambling to get as far away from him as possible. 

He catches you around the waist, needle clattering to the floor as he wrestles you to the ground. It's harder than it should be, he's trying to be gentle, trying not to harm you, but you're kicking and crying and clawing like you'll die if you don't fight. The Arkham Knight wonders what you see, what twisted image is taking over your mind as you fight him.

You see him. The Arkham Knight– Jason. You know there's something wrong with you, something bad, but between the pounding of your heart and the way the shadows seem to writhe, you can't remember what it is. 

You tried to get away from him– it. He's angry at you, you know he is. You can hear it in the robitical breathing, the way fire dances in place of the glowing whites of his eyes. 

You're scared. You don't know how he knows. You don't know how he found out or what he thinks, but he's going to hurt you. That's what the choir of hissing voices whispers into your ear. 

He knows you've helped Batman– Bruce. You didn't want to betray him. You weren't trying to hinder his revenge plan in any way. Bruce didn't even know it was you who told him. You just– all you did was tell him to have extra fear toxin antidotes ready. You just couldn't stand the thought of someone losing the people they loved, not when you knew exactly how it felt.

The Arkham Knight freezes when you start to beg. He's never heard you so scared, so shaken. You sound like he did. Back in that cell.

You thought a part of him might understand that. Your adrenaline spikes when he reaches for something just out of your field of vision. He's going to hurt you. He's going to make you pay for your disloyalty. You let out a sob and start to beg, broken pleas of his name leave your lips, it's the only sound you can make anymore.

"Please, Jason," You rasp out, "m'sorry. So sorry." He shushes you as you start to paw at his chest plate in a last ditch attempt to get away. Always so strong, you are. 

Jason takes your wrists in one hand and sticks the needle into your skin with the other, releasing the antidote into your bloodstream. 

"There you go, there you go, doll. Good job." He mumbles into your hair, pulling you up so you can settle in his lap, his arms securely around your body. Your breathing is shaky, uneven, and your hands move to curl into the straps of his armor. You're not trying to get away from him anymore, proof the antidote is taking hold. 

He keeps cooing mindless reassurances as you cry quietly into his shoulder, his hand running soothing lines up and down your back. He presses his lips to the top of your head and holds you a little tighter to him.

When you're more yourself, Jason will tell you you have nothing to be sorry for. He knows. Of course, he knows what you told Bruce. He knows everything about you. If spilling a few secrets to his plan eases your guilty conscience and keeps you by his side, so be it.

Scarecrow's just a means to an end anyway. All that matters is that you stay. That you keep following him down his path in hell, and if you turn to look back a few times, well, he'll just hold your hand all the more tighter and keep dragging you along with him.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Walking the Road for Her

Wanda Maximoff x Gray Witch!Reader

Word count: 1.2K

Summary: You can't live without Wanda and you've tried everything else so when Agatha comes knocking on your door you accept immediately, but the teen that's with her...he seems so familiar

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 3 OF AGATHA ALL ALONG! Grief/Loss, hallucinations, death/mortality, emotional distress, supernatural elements, implied self-sacrifice, character death, reunion with a deceased loved one

Authors notes: Thank you @scarlethexelove for indulging in my random Wanda thoughts.

When Agatha asked for you to walk the witches road, you didn't hesitate. She was put off by your eagerness, but never told her why you were walking. You kept that part to yourself she didn't seem to mind. Everyone had a reason, and everyone had their secrets, so no one asked, and you weren't about to tell them you wanted, no needed Wanda back.

You would give up anything and everything to have Wanda back. If it meant to team up with Agatha, you would do it.

So you did. You met up with her and put on the cheery smile she hated. You always assumed she hated you for being a younger witch still full of life, but since Wanda died, you felt like you died too. You got along well enough with the others. You knew Jen the best being closer in age, though you didn't care for her products.

The teen seemed eerily familiar, but you can't put your finger on it. Why does he remind you of Wanda of a life you can't seem to remember.

You're overly protective of him. You don't let him have the wine, and when you hallucinate from said wine, you blink, and suddenly, you're looking at Wanda. Back in her early twenties with the eyeliner, ripped stockings, painted nails, and rings on every finger. You cry over it, cupping her face until it turns back to his.

“Are you okay.” He looks at you with concern. You pull away quickly and wipe your eyes.

“S-Sorry.” You quickly run the ingredients back, trying to escape the feelings. You need to stay strong. You need to get Wanda back.

You end up getting through the trail. Not without its costs. Losing Sharon wasn't something you had in mind, but the witches road is treacherous and has no place for mortals. You never should have let Agatha do that, but hindsight and all that. You knew you had to press on and on the road Teen asks,

“Are you sure you're okay? You and Sharon called out for the same person.” You swallow hard.

“Yeah I'm fine. We all had hallucinations about things. I'll be okay.” You tell him and then mumble under your breath, “Not like I don't deal with it every morning...” his head swivels.

“What was that?” He asks.

“Nothing, just mumbling to myself.”

The further you journey, the harder it gets. Sometimes, you want to give up, to give in, and join Wanda another way. But something stops you every time. You almost think you can feel her, feel her all around you. In the trees, the air, the leaves beneath your feet. With a quick turn of your head, you think you so the soft auburn color you miss so much. The road is playing tricks yet keeping you grounded to your goals.

You make it to the end. Finally passed the last trial everyone who had made it. Their prize awaited them. You waited, didn't see her, and then you heard a whisper in Sokovian.

Your name.

You looked around everywhere. “Over here milaya.” You hear her call. You whip around and see her. She doesn't look like the Scarlet Witch anymore. Back before that. Like when you were on the run. You run into her arms without a second thought.

You can't help as you cry. Burying your face in her neck as your body shakes with sobs. Her vanilla scent invades your senses. “Shhhh sweet girl, I've got you.” Wanda holds you close. Your heart feels whole again now that you're back in her arms.

Your sobs turn into sniffles. “I've missed you so much.” You mumble against her. Her nails lightly scratching at your back. Something she's always done to sooth you. Kissing the side of your head and letting her lips linger.

“I know Detka. I'm so sorry. I'm here now. I'll never leave you again.”

You held onto Wanda tight, afraid to let go as if she'd disappear again if you stopped.

Wanda opened her eyes, looking past your shoulder her eyes widened in surprise and then softened as she saw him.

“Bi-Billy?” Wanda's voice shakes slightly. You pull back but not fully letting her go. You follow her gaze that lands on the teen. Your brows furrow before you look back to Wanda.

“Wanda?” You question her.

She lets go of you when Teen responds to the name. He tries to say something, but the sigil protects him. A wave of Wanda's hand changes that. “Billy?” She asks again.

“Yes, that's me.” You're really confused as you see Wanda's red tendrils come out sending red waves through his eyes before disappearing. “M-mom? H-how did you...?”

Billy runs towards Wanda, slamming into her, but she doesn't budge. She holds him tightly in her arms. “What kind of mother would I be if I didn't know my own son?” Wanda whispers. It's just loud enough for you to hear. Confusion morphs into realization as you look on.

The reason he looked so familiar, the reason he reminded you of her. Of course, it was one of the twins. Sure you hadn't been a part of the hex, but you had seen the recordings of it. Last you had seen the twins, they were 10 inside the hex.

Your heartbeat quickens when you remember what you had seen next as the hex fell the you Wanda had created was destroyed along with the twins. She had held you tightly until you were no more.

It's a shock to see him in the flesh. To understand who he really is. He pulls away from Wanda and turns to you. “Mama?” He's cautious having been giving the memory from Wanda and realizing that you had never got to meet him. Do you even know who he is? Will you accept him as your own?

Your breath catches. It's like waves of memories flood through you as if they had always been there. Everything from the hex coming to life as tears fill your vision and spill over. “Oh my sweet little boy...look at you!” Your arms wrap around him tightly. It had been there, blurry when you thought about it. Of this being your son. “Mama is sorry you had to go through all of this.”

“Mama don't apologize. I'm happy to have you back.” He pulls away slightly keeping an arm around you and opening his other for Wanda. She joins into the hug.

“I'm happy to have both of you back.” You can feel the tears pricking your eyes.

You hug them both tightly. This still left you without one son, but you knew you'd find him. If Billy made it out somehow, then Tommy must be out there, too.

Wanda cups both of your cheeks and looks between you. “Moya lyubov i moy syn (my love and my son).” Tears in her eyes she can't believe she is back and that she had both of you. Her heart is almost complete, but there is still a missing piece to the puzzle.

You didn't need her powers to know what she was thinking, “We'll find him, milaya.” She smiles at you, giving a soft peck on your lips.

“We will. Now that I have you two I know we will.”

This was more than you could have asked for at the end of the road.

[ozzgin]

“Do you mean it in the sense that Reader goes through monster boyfriends and is quick to dump them for the next catch”

Yep. Just a vile reader who’s breaking hearts left and right. I think you’ll write it beautifully if you channel your evil side like when you play the sims! ☺️

-👘

Yandere! Monsters x Heartbreaker! Reader

You've always been a free spirit, unable to settle on a single partner. Even after being abruptly transported into a different dimension where you are the only human surrounded by monsters, this habit of yours has persisted. Except monsters, as you will see, are harder to discard than humans. They aren't as willing to accept rejection.

Content: female reader, reader is a player, monster smut

Ah, how troublesome. He won't stop calling. You lazily pick up the phone and look for the options to block the number, clicking your tongue in irritation. You'd specifically told him you're not interested in anything serious. "Who's calling?" The man shuffles under the sheets, still half-asleep. "No one." You respond curtly, glaring at the intruder. "It's morning already, by the way. When are you leaving?"

You slam the door shut before the overnight guest can bring up the classic "Will I see you again", and exhale theatrically in relief. Finally alone again. You look up and shake your fist menacingly, as if whichever entity governing this world is responsible for your bad luck. You've always been utterly indifferent towards committed relationships, and yet most fuck buddies end up head over heels for you, dragging themselves at your feet like pitiful beggars. Pathetic and a pain in the ass to deal with.

Well, someone must be up there, because your situation feels too much like a sassy answer to your complaint. You've just rushed out of your apartment a moment ago and last time you checked, the concierge office wasn't on a rocky hill covered in deep cracks erupting with lava, stretching out into the seemingly unending horizon. Where the hell are you? You turn on your heels, reaching for the door, only to find out - who would've expected? - that it's gone. Great. Your immediate explanation is that the guy you've mistakenly brought home last night must've slipped something in your drinks. All this for a sloppy, clumsy eating out.

The worry of being drugged vanishes quickly once the first creatures of the realm appear. Hard to believe anything on the market could cause such detailed hallucinations that can sniff and touch you: Some alligator-looking minions with eyes popping out of their backs slid out of a nearby crevice to investigate the newcomer. Ironically enough, they seem to be the ones shocked by your appearance. Once they've hesitantly assessed your presence, they scurry aside to discuss their findings. "What could it be?" You hear one mumble, completely baffled. For whatever reason you can understand their language, so you decide to speed up their detective work. "Ever heard of human?" You shout, with a hint of sarcasm in your voice. The beasts gasp in unison. "Nonsense! Straight out of a children's tale!"

Eventually, after a lot of confusion and pointed fingers, you manage to figure out your predicament. You've somehow landed in a world of monsters, where humans are more of a fictional, mythical existence. Thankfully they don't seem to consider your potential as food, though you're not sure if the sudden, massive ambush of creatures is any better. The alligator-like quadrupeds brought you to the nearest settlement and had to form a barrier to stop the curious beasts from almost trampling you in their frenzy to see "the human". You've garnered ridiculous amounts of attention, yet such reaction is to be expected; how often would an earthling wander into their world? It could very well be a lifetime singularity for many.

As the days pass and you become more accustomed to your fate, you begin to feel that familiar calling. It doesn't look like you'll be going home anytime soon and a lady has her needs. Additionally, whatever popularity you had back in the human world is a minuscule fraction of what you're currently experiencing here. In the eyes of the monsters, you're an exotic treat that cannot be refused. It shouldn't be too hard to find yourself a partner, or two. Or three. Who keeps count nowadays?

You remember stumbling upon a postcard print of "The Dream of the Fisherman's Wife" at some museum shop. You immediately picked up the thick cardboard, eyeing the artwork in amusement. A woman enveloped in the limbs of two octopuses and very obviously enjoying herself. Who even came up with the pairing, you wondered at the time. Whatever the artist was thinking, you can certainly see his point now. The first one to receive your indecent proposal was an eldritch creature of sorts, something straight out of Lovecraft's lucid dreams. Dark, long tendrils sprawling out of an amorphous core - which you assume is its head based on the bulging, glistening orbs hungrily staring at you. Your whole body is throbbing under the tight hold of the slippery tentacles, wrapping around you in masterful intricacy. You could see the result featured in a bondage magazine, though you don't...can't ponder much on it given the fact you're, well, stuffed with monstrous appendages. You doubt any genital variation back home could compare. The monster is even polite enough to occasionally wipe away the continuous stream of drool spilling out of your whining mouth. Towards the end you barely have a voice anymore, throat sore from the loud moans and merciless constriction. Your muscles contract all at once, overwhelmed by the sensations. Whatever sensitive areas you might have are presently aching under the needy fondling of the creature.

Mind-blowing. The memory is enough to have you wet and squirming with desire. Even more so when you consider the other varieties of monsters ready to fuck you senseless. Soon enough you're surveying the neighborhood for the ideal suitors and thankfully you don't have to worry about making wrong choices, as there's always a next target. Thus the following weeks fill you with a particular kind of nostalgia (among other things and fluids), reminding you of the bed-hopping in the human realm. From werewolves drowning out your whimpers with their desperate howling, to hooved legs of hybrids violently thrusting into you until you're a dripping mess. "Look at me" is what one of the beasts demanded in a low growl, turning you on with its ragged voice and clawed hand encircling your frail neck. Although you had to ask it where exactly to look, given it was covered entirely in eyes.

You yawn and stare at the ceiling, reminiscing about the depraved fuckfest you're currently recovering from. You might've overdone it with the last one. Alas, you came enough times to make up for it. Just as you turn around to readjust the ice pack, you hear a loud thud coming from the entrance. You (carefully) sit up and rub your eyes, trying to focus on the shadow figure approaching your bed. It's one of the lizard monsters, swiftly slithering across the wall and landing over you with an angered expression. "Where the fuck is that dog?" it inquires with a hiss. "What? Who're you talking about?" you mumble, wildly confused. "The one that dared to touch you."

Oh, not this crap again. You almost roll your eyes. "You never said anything about us being together." Is your annoyed reply. "What? I thought it'd be obvious you belong to me!" You're about to question the strange logic, but your couple's quarrel is interrupted by the sound of shattered glass. The many-eyed monster crawls its way in with fluid, uncanny movements, releasing a deafening screech once it notices the lizard in your bed. "Off! Get off my human now!" is what it finally manages to verbalize in its fury. Okay, it seems to be the common belief. To clear off any shred of doubt remaining, the ceiling gives in and crumbles like putty under the weight of an enormous tentacle. You scream and cover your face from the bits of rubble flying everywhere, but you're quickly sheltered by another thick appendage looping itself around you, against the wrathful protests of the lizard. You did not anticipate the eldritch creature could expand to this gargantuan size.

For the first time since arriving here, you feel homesick. At least back home you could get rid of your annoying admirers with the slide of a button. Is there a larger scale alternative for cosmic blasphemies? You shake your fist (up? down? you can't tell in the darkness of the tentacle shield) towards the entity once more. Damn it, you've learned your lesson. Several steps must’ve been skipped before reaching a pack of angry, possessive monsters fighting over your ownership.

[astrangerthatlovesyou]

“It’s okay to not be okay”

Unless it impacts your work performance…

Or your grades

Or how you act

Or if it causes you to say no

Or if you’re harder to be around

Or if you need time alone

Or if you talk about it

Or show symptoms

“It’s okay to not be okay”

Unless you have trauma

Unless you have one of those “scary” mental illnesses

Unless it inconveniences me

Unless you’re undiagnosed

Unless you cry or scream or make a scene

Unless you don’t keep that shit to yourself

Unless you make me uncomfortable

Unless I can’t infantilize or fetishize you

Unless you have hallucinations

Unless you have psychosis

Unless you get angry

Unless I think you’re cringe

Unless you can’t preform hygiene tasks

Unless you’re disabled, or trans, or gay, or not white, or fat, or AFAB, or intersex, or a man… so I guess anyone

“It’s okay to not be okay”

As long as nobody ever finds out.

Our society has a severe issue with performative activism, and mental health is a huge example of this. Every time someone considers reaching out, they run through this list mentally. This is why true activists and resources need to be loudly supportive of all the things on this list. Take the subtext out of your support.

[alisblackgf]

okok hear me out.... yk the scene in s1 where the old guy (mr han i think) hugs hyun su and hyun su basically kills him with his monster wing thing what if reader took mr hans place and hyun su killed reader, but then reader comes back as a neohuman and they reunite in s2 (i hope this made sense pls im bad at explaining)

someone cooked here. LMAO anon you're a genius

rememberance

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: cha hyun-su x gn!reader

��𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: hurt/comfort(?)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you died by his hands, and he never forgave himself for it. that was until he saw you standing alive and well in front of him.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i didn't know if i wanted to make it an established relationship or not, so that's up to you! also when i finished this i thought it was way longer than it actually was. hopefully you still enjoy it!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mentions of death, blood, basically anything you'd see in sweet home

"it's not your fault."

your voice echoed in his mind continuously. part of him wishes he could forget, the other part of him wishes it'd stay forever.

he remembered the way your arms wrapped around him, even when your skin was pierced by his wing.

"it's not your fault," you whispered, your grasp slightly loosening due to your injuries. you could feel yourself slipping away.

you used your final breaths to reassure him, relief taking over your features when his wing turned back into his arm, and the pure blackness of his eyes returned to the eyes you'd stare into with adoration.

once he fully processed the situation, he held you tightly and cried into you. you held him back for as long as you could, and once he felt your arms let him go, he cried harder.

he remembered how your lifeless body felt. the weight of you was still there, but everything else that made you you was gone.

it had been a year since it happened. he thought it'd get better with time, but it hadn't. he catches himself thinking about you more often than he should, but he can't—he won't—let himself forget you.

he didn't think that his determination to keep your memory alive would lead to hallucinations of you. was he hallucinating?

eun-yu stood next to him, and upon seeing you, she ran up to you and hugged you. you hugged her back and gave her a soft smile. she pulled away, and your gaze landed on him.

he definitely wasn't hallucinating.

he looked different than when you last saw him. his hair grew out a bit more, and you observed his shirt.

it looked cut up, and you could only assume it was from his wing. the same one that "killed" you. you winced at the memory, convinced you could almost feel the tears in your skin again.

you had changed, too, though. your hair was different, more suitable to the outbreak of monsters, and your choice of clothing was, too. it's not something he expected you to wear, but it looked good on you.

he walked towards you and you stood before him, unmoving, just as shocked as he was.

"hyun-su?" you reached out to touch his face, and once he felt your touch, he gave a shaky sigh and tears began to fall.

you wiped his tears and gently shushed him, pulling him into an embrace. he buried his face into your neck, mumbling apologies.

"i'm sorry," he cried into you, just like he did when your pierced skin leaked blood onto him.

"i know. it wasn't your fault." you held him tight, expressing that your grasp wouldn't falter this time, and you let him stay in your arms as long as he needed to, because this time, you weren't going anywhere.

[sp0o0kylights]

Steves always felt stuck. 

Slightly out of place, like a character that was supposed to be killed off, but was kept alive instead. 

Adrift with no friends and a family thats absent, Steve wastes most his life working a retro video store in a dying mall. 

Nothing feels real. Has felt real, ever since a party he threw in high school got wildly out of hand. 

Until some guy named Eddie shows up.

Eddie, who slaps down a copy of some former major TV show everyone used to binge.

Eddie, with his wild hair and wilder eyes and an outfit that looks like he himself came out of the stupid 80s show.

Eddie, who worms his way into Steves heart, the only bright spark of his day, and who no one else seems to be able to see.

It's easy to ignore at first. Easy for Steve to dismiss the weird looks and quiet questions--especially when Eddie flirts like he does. 

Kisses up Steves neck in the work closet, whispering assurances that they can be quick. 

Its a little harder when his concussions are brought up. His brain damage diagnosis thrown at him.

That it's his fault that girl drowned. It's his fault he sacrificed her to save himself, even if the lack of oxygen is the entire reason he's different now…

Steve is certain Eddies not a hallucination, or some kind of--imaginary friend.

So sure hes furious with it when confronted--until that night. 

When Eddie sits Steve down and informs him no one else can see him because he is from the stupid tv show.

And so is Steve.

In fact it's not a tv show, its reality and Steve is caught in Vecna's evil mindtrap--except his very real brain damage caused things to go a little differently.

Steves trapped apparently, and El has sent Eddie to go get him--and Steve wants so badly to believe it.

That he's not this lonely. 

That this--dull, friendless, family-less life he's barely living, is the fake one. 

Except….

“So how do I wake up then?”

“That's the hard part, Stevie.” Eddie tells him, thumb running soothing little circles on overheated skin. El thinks you need to drown--just like Barb did.” 

[kokonoisgf]

Cold - Chuuya Nakahara (m)

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

❀ character: Chuuya Nakahara

❀ tw: MINORS DNI 18+ sexual explicit content (fem reader) : pet names, cursing, slight bondage, praises, 'baby', 'princess', he's so in love w you!!!

❀ note: Getting back into writing woooo!! let me know what you think hehe, more Chuuya stuff coming, because I am forever in love with that man (っ˘ڡ˘ς) (っ˘ڡ˘ς)

❀ word count: 3.5k

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

‘I thought I told you to stay home’ Grumbled Chuuya from under his blankets. His forehead shone with a thin layer of sweat, his eyes glistening with sickness. His gaze was inevitably glued to you who leaned near his bedside table preparing what seemed like his medicine. He thanked whatever god was out there for the warm, thick blanket covering him, because the way you bent over measuring his medicine would be the death of him. The short skirt you wore left little to none to the imagination. He tried desperately to look away, but the curves of your ass were barely covered with that baby blue lace, which only made it harder for him to pry his gaze away.

It was as if you were doing this on purpose, trying to rile him up. As you neared him holding the cup containing the foul smelling liquid, he propped himself up, blanket pooling at his waist. His chiselled chest exposed, he could feel his heart trash around his chest. His cold really wasn’t that bad to be honest, it was more so the way your every move or glance had his heart leaping that kept him on edge.

‘You didn’t have to do all this, I'm fine.’ Chuuya muttered, his voice raspier now, almost sounding like a growl. His slight fevered state only heightened his awareness of you, and your every movement truly only seemed designed to torment him.

You gave him a small, teasing smile as you handed him the medicine. ‘I couldn’t leave you like this,’ you said, your voice soft and sweet, but there was a knowing gleam in your eyes. You knew exactly what you were doing, how much power you held over him in this moment. Chuuya’s hand trembled slightly as he took the cup from you, his fingers brushing yours in a fleeting touch that sent a jolt of heat straight to his groin. He mentally cursed himself for being so reactive, his whole being putty in the palm of your hand. He downed the medicine quickly, wincing at the bitter taste, his eyes falling back on you.

Sitting on the bed next to him, you pressed the back of your hand to his forehead, leaning forward. A concerned expression covered your face as you checked his temperature. Chuuya’s gaze flickered to your exposed cleavage, feeling himself get dizzy for a hot second. Scoffing, he turned his gaze away, cheeks almost matching his fiery hair.

He fought so damn hard to keep his gaze elsewhere, anywhere but there. But it was impossible. The way your shirt dipped, the curves of your breasts… He squeezed his eyes shut, frustrated by the growing storm raging inside him.

‘Chuuya you’re so red, are you alright?’ He blinked, looking back at you, the same sly smile covering your features. God- You were so close, he felt as if he was hallucinating. His heart raced as you leaned in, your face hovering inches from his. The warmth of your breath ghosted over his skin, making his already fevered body feel like it was burning up from the inside out. He swallowed hard, trying to focus on anything but the way your eyes sparkled with amusement.

‘I told you I’m fine,’ he muttered, though his voice betrayed him with a slight tremble.

‘Just… feeling a bit hot.’ he added quickly, though he knew it wasn’t just the cold making him feel this way. You smiled, your fingers gently brushing through his ginger locks .

"Maybe you need something to cool down then, take your mind off this cold." you teased, your voice soft and soothing, but there was an underlying tension that neither of you could ignore. Chuuya felt torn between wanting to pull you closer and trying to maintain some level of composure.

‘You're… making this hard,’ he said, his voice shaking slightly. He was rapidly losing his composure. His eyes flickered, desperately searching for a distraction, but you had him completely cornered. His body felt heavy from both the cold and the undeniable tension crackling between the two of you. You were close—too close—and every fibre of his being was aware of it. The sound of your soft breathing, the scent of your perfume, and the warmth that radiated from you made his pulse quicken.

‘Oh really? How so?,’ you replied, your tone light, but your eyes betrayed a deeper understanding of the effect you had on him. Chuuya gulped, his sapphire eyes completely lost in yours. His cock was hard, oh so embarrassingly hard after not even a single touch from you. The blanket somewhat hid it a little, but he fidgeted under the covers, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips. He gritted his teeth, struggling to keep his composure, but your proximity and the way your eyes sparkled with mischief weren’t helping.

‘You know exactly what you’re doing,’ he growled softly, the frustration in his voice evident. He wasn’t just battling this stupid cold anymore; he was attempting an unwinnable fight against his body right now. It was utterly betraying him, the blanket now doing little to conceal his hardening cock. He shifted, trying to find some comfort, but every movement only seemed to create delicious friction that his body desperately craved.

‘Maybe I do, but do you mind?’ You cooed, your hand softly cupping his cheek as you leaned forward again, your gaze catching his. His cheeks caught on fire at the softness of your hand and your cleavage once again in full display for him. Your touch felt both featherlight and electrifying at the same time, and Chuuya knew he was damn well already under your spell. It was no news to him though, he had always been fond of you.

‘I-’ He paused, silently cursing himself for how utterly desperate his voice sounded ‘I… don’t mind’ He admitted, gaze quickly looking off to the side as if avoiding yours trying desperately to hide his feelings. His chest tightened, and for a moment, panic seized him. Did he really just admit how much he wanted you?

He feared the cold had lowered his defence, fearing to spill even more of his heart to you in the midst of something happening. It wasn’t just a spur of the moment thing, it was quite the opposite actually. He couldn’t even recall the number of times he found his gaze drifting to you naturally, wondering how your lips would taste on his, how you’d feel clawing at his back as he made sweet sweet love to you, but more importantly how it would feel to call you his.

The tension in the room was thick enough to cut a knife, as you gazed at him intently. Your teasing look subtly transformed into one of pure admiration hinting to something much deeper, your feelings for him shining like a lighthouse into the dark sea.

‘Chuuya, can I… touch you?’ Your voice was sweet, contrasting with your other hand trailing down his chest, deliriously close to the hem of his underwear. There was no mistaking the tent in his boxers by now, visible even through the thick blanket. Chuuya felt his face heat up, feeling completely exposed, his throat dry. Mind reeling, he nodded eagerly — a little too eagerly — eliciting a small smile from you. There was nothing more he wanted on this earth than to to feel the subtle touch of your fingers against his skin, or your pretty mouth wrapped around his dick. Stop.

God— He was so desperate, for your touch feeling as if this cold only intensified the sensitivity of his body. His hands clenched the blanket, desperate for something to ground him, but nothing could quell the ache. He felt like his mind was spinning, insides twisting as his eyes were glued to your hand, and how with each passing second it neared where he needed you most.

‘W-Wait-’ Chuuya’s voice trembled as his fingers wrapped around your wrists, halting you in your movement. His mind snapped, actions registering before he could even wrap his mind around what even he was going to say. His body was on fire, every nerve alive conflicting with both his sickness and the sheer desire for you, but there was something prevailing on his mind. He couldn’t let himself give in, not without saying what had been on his mind for so long.

‘I can’t… I have something to say.’ His voice was low, a rough whisper full of frustration and vulnerability. He squeezed his eyes shut, cursing himself for feeling so exposed. This wasn’t how he imagined pouring his heart out, no never in a million years. But the cold, the heat of your body, your soft touches—it had all stripped away his usual defences.

Your expression softened, your hand still resting on his chest, fingers curling lightly against his heated skin. ‘What is it Chuuya?’ you asked, your voice gentle.

He opened his eyes, sapphire depths meeting yours, and in that instant, something broke free inside him. ‘I… Fuck- I care about you okay? Like, really care about you. And not just in the way you’re probably thinking right now.’ He glanced down, his face flushed with both fever and embarrassment, but he forced himself to meet your gaze again and keep on going. He could not allow himself to get intimate with you if you did not return his feelings — he was not like that. The memories would haunt him for life if he did.

‘I’ve thought about this moment—I mean, us—more times than I can even remember. And it’s not just about wanting you physically, though Fuck- God knows I do.’ He paused, exhaling a shaky breath, his length straining against the thin material of his underwear as if to prove his statement. The words were spilling out of his mouth before he even had time to think about them, but his heart was being truthful right now, so vulnerable.

‘I can’t stand the thought of someone else with you - I need you all to myself. I want all of you to myself, not just tonight, not just because I'm sick and you’re there. But for real’

He let out a sigh of frustration, feeling as if he couldn’t express the depth of his feelings properly. Running a shaky hand through his hair, his eyebrows furrowed, cheeks reddening as he looked off toward the dim light of his bedside table.

‘I just… I love you a lot, that's what I'm trying to say..’ He admitted, his voice cracking slightly at the end, and his grip on your wrist loosened. He let out a shaky breath, his heart pounding in his chest as he swore he felt like he was on the verge of a heart attack. There was a silence and Chuuya swore that these were the longest five seconds of his life. He had battled the most fearsome enemies in Yokohama, but nothing scared him more than meeting your gaze right now, to be faced with the truth of your feelings.

‘Chuuya…’ your melodic voice rang through his ear, and he bit down on his lips, feeling your hand cup his cheek once again. Leaning into your touch, his lashes fluttered close for an instant, basking into your warmth. It felt good really, to pour his heart out, like an indescribable weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

‘I love you too, I always have. I wouldn’t have come here to take care of you, or proposed this, if I wasn’t feeling the same’ Chuuya’s gaze flew to meet yours. Did he heard you right? Or had the fever finally gone to his head making him hallucinate? His face now matching with his fiery hair, he exhaled another shaky sigh, mouth parting and closing trying to find the right words to say.

‘I- Damn it- Need’ you so bad’ It was like he had been given the golden key that unlocked the gates to heaven, and he knew he couldn’t wait anymore. Knowing that you felt the same, his long fingers intertwined with yours, pushing you down onto the bed, climbing on top of you. Pining both your wrists above your head, his body faintly glowed red, his gravity-manipulation ability forcing a gentle weight on your wrists, rendering you unable to move them.

You couldn’t help but let your gaze fall on the way his cock absolutely strained against the material of his underwear. A wet spot adorned the front of his boxer, the shadow it created only amplifying the wetness between your legs.

Struggling against the invisible restraints, your doe eyes met his. ‘Chuuya, you’re the one who should be resting. C’mon let me touch you..’ You cooed, desperately wanting to pleasure him first, but he was not like that. Even if he was at death's door you would come first, so it was not like a silly little cold would change any of that.

‘Waited too long, need to have you. This cold can go to hell.’ He mindlessly babbled, as his lips found refuge in the crook of your neck, before capturing yours in a heated kiss. His fingers grazed your skin as if he was afraid you might disappear any second, the scene unfolding before him feeling like a dream. He was so afraid that he’d wake up to square one, needing to ground himself deeply into reality.

The kiss was desperate, full of the longing he’d kept hidden for so long. He poured every ounce of his feelings into it, his lips moving against yours in a tender yet demanding way. Your body arched beneath him, pressing into his touch, but his ability kept you pinned down firmly against the mattress. You moaned in the kiss, tongues twirling as he pulled away, thumb resting on your bottom lip.

‘Open up for me, would you, doll?’ A hint of command prickled in his words, your lips parted almost instantly and before you knew it, he had leaned forward his spit dribbling down into your mouth.

‘Good girl, such a good girl to me’ His voice was hoarse, rough with lust, his gaze almost midnight blue by now. He could tell he had long gone and lost his composure, his raw instincts taken over. Swallowing his spit, you moaned, lifting your legs to wrap them around his hips. Chuuya felt his brain short-circuit when your clothed core pressed against his length, the warmth and sheer wetness making him see stars. Cursing under his breath, a strand of his ginger hair slipped past his shoulder as his cheeks flushed. Fingers digging your skin, his knuckles turned white, his tongue darting out to wet his pink lips. Lashes fluttering shut, your head fell back against the pillowcase, beads of sweat trickling down your cleavage. Your skirt had riled up, exposing your panties and bare juicy thighs, your voice resonating through the room.

‘Need you inside me’ You whimpered out, and Chuuya swore he could cum from your pleading voice alone. Your pussy was quivering begging for any type of friction, feeling your walls clench around nothing had you going mad.

‘Fu-Fuck yea okay- I got you princess’ Normally he thought he’d have made you wait a bit more for it, but he truly didn't have it in himself to make you wait. Was it because you looked so utterly vulnerable beneath him under the spell of his ability, or maybe it was simply because he had daydreamed about this moment for so long that he felt like waiting was not even an option. He had no idea, but he knew he needed your soft walls around him. Positioning his length, Chuuya shoots you another bashful glance.

‘Hey.. you sure you’re okay with this?’ He asked, as if trying to ground himself that this was really reality, that you truly wanted him. It still felt surreal to him somehow. You nodded, arching your back

‘Please Chuuya’ Your begging felt like sweet music to his ears, his long fingers quickly discarded your panties, his eyes glued to your soaked cunt.

‘So wet- God, you’re so beautiful” Rocking your hips against his, Chuuya hissed, his eyes rolling in the back of his skull. Pressing his body forward he gently started filling you up inch by inch. He felt small whimpers threaten to escape his parted lips, his breathing uneven already. The stretch felt delicious, your walls fluttered against his cock nestling comfortably inside you. The ache was so good, his cock filling you up so perfectly. Leaning his forehead against yours, he never once broke eye contact as his hips started moving.

‘Takin’ me so well, look at your pretty pussy’ He rasped, his sapphire gaze glued to the way your cunt swallowed him whole, a thin ring of cum already coating his dick. He felt like he was floating. Building rhythm, Chuuya couldn't help but moan seeing you so vulnerable under him. As much as he absolutely loved seeing you struggle against the invisible restraints of his ability, he desperately needed your hands all over him. The faint crimson glow of his ability subsidised as you regained control over your arms, as a dusted blush covered his face.

‘Touch me.. Please’ He begged shyly, and you couldn’t help but comply. His shy side was so endearing to you. He never showed it to anyone, considering it somewhat of a weakness, but it made you want to do anything and everything for him. Legs wrapped around his waist, your hips met his at a rough pace, your hands leaving no skin untouched. You were impatient. Impatient to have him coat your walls white with his cum, needing him all to yourself. Your hands trailed up his chest, nails clawing at his skin before bringing him down for a passionate kiss. Your tongues danced with each other, saliva mingling as his hot breath fanned against your lips. He broke the kiss from time to time to release whimpers and grunts, mindlessly blabbing how much he loved and adored you.

His pace was ruthless, never once stopping for a breather, before his long fingers gripped the underside of your knees angling you up. You yelped as the Executive’s pace increased tenfold, hitting your sweet spot instantly as if he’d known your body since the beginning of time. You were completely impaled on his cock, the sudden thrusts of his hips making your eyes water in pleasure, moans of his name endlessly pouring from your lips.

Feeling the inevitable coil in his stomach about to snap, his thumb met your pearl needing to make you cum on his dick before he could even begin to think about releasing deep into you.

‘My pretty girl.. C’mon give it to me’ His soft words doubled with the way he looked at you were more than enough to make you unravel under him. A choked out whimper leaves your lips as the overstimulation from his dick’s relentless pace and thumb over your clit has you gushing beneath him.

‘That’s right- cum on on my cock baby-’ His breath fanned against the shell of your ear, his hot breath tingling your skin like wildfire. The feeling of your walls fluttering around his length inevitably sent him spiralling as well as he halted, cockhead kissing your cervix, hips stuttering. Mind hazy, a silent cry escaped his parted lips, as one of his hands grasped yours in a desperate attempt to ground himself. Intertwining his fingers with yours he huffed and puffed heavily.

‘I-I’m gonna-’ He stuttered trying to warn you, beads of sweat dripping down his fair skin and you swore that in this moment he never looked this beautiful. It wasn’t long until your pussy was filled to the brim with his cum, feeling him softly collapse on top of you, his head on your chest.

Your heartbeat was so soothing as he tried catching his breath. Your fingers tangled in his orange locks, gently caressing his scalp. Looking up to meet your gaze, he felt on cloud 9, one of his hands coming to caress your cheek.

‘I love you so much..’ he whispered earnestly, pressing a chaste kiss on your forehead. Eyes falling on your exposed cunt, he couldn't help but notice the way a mix of both your juices dribbled down your thigh. A surge of heat rushed over his whole body at the realisation that he released deep - deep inside your pussy. Something primal light up inside him, his eyes darkening again. Long fingers tilting your pretty fucked out face to meet his, he looked at you silently. He needed more - He had waited way too long to have you and now he was insatiable. He could be greedy right? Just for tonight?

Feeling his dick harden again at the sight before him, Chuuya looked off to the side at the clock on his wall. 1:07 am, it indicated.

He had all night after all, he’d just rest tomorrow. This cold truly could go to hell.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

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[slickfordain]

POOKS I HAVE AN IDEA

Ahem...yandere aiden, logan, tyler n ash or whoever u want w WEAK READER N YK THEY R PRETTY OVERPROTECTIVD OF HER WHY? bc she is fragile af-- always manage to get herself injured in the most dunb ways possible n how tf is she gonna manage to survive in this realm? She needs them ‼️‼️

𝕭𝖗𝖚𝖙𝖆𝖑 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞 // School Bus Graveyard

TW: Yandere themed, NO NSFW, gore/injuries mentioned, fragile!female!reader who is paranoid and anxious, AU explanation-wise writing? It’s kind of short but it’s like an explanation what my SBG x reader AU is;;u ;

You don’t know how you even ended up here in this situation…. Restless sleep, insomnia, hallucinations,— Ah… Who am I kidding? You knew exactly what was happening and it all started way back when you were ordered to tutor around the new students. Being the one who wasn’t new, it was hard to keep a conversation with them because….. One would keep her distance away, one would be thrilled to nag the girl who distanced away, the twins didn’t give a damn, and… Ben and Logan were probably the only ones who ever offered to listen to you.

However despite those hours you eventually got to bond with them, all because of… Well…. You tripping down the stairs all of the sudden until Ashlyn caught you. And that’s where the spark happened… That’s what clicked in Ashlyn’s mind to suddenly want to protect you, with you in her arms looking hopeless and defenseless. The group claimed you as their pink princess but, you didn’t thought much of it….

And why they even bother to call you that, you still felt loved at least by your friends.

But… Every time you walk home after hanging out with them, especially on that trip, your hands wouldn’t stop shaking. The thought of that hideous creature behind Ashlyn…. You haven’t left your house since then, and gave excuses to your teacher even for him to understand.

You’ve never felt anything weird like this before… The ones you are looking to avoid were mostly creepy men, or just in general a group of people who you think could possibly bully you, or take advantage.

So why? Why did you suddenly have to endure horror?

❝[NAME]!!!❞

You’ve impaled yourself on accident by trying to get away from a monster, you’ve tripped and fallen into a dark void where you died by the fall, you even somehow died by trying to save Tyler, but you ended up dying anyways! It was getting so… So much harder…

You’ve gotten injured. Over, and over, and over again. It’s pissing Ashlyn, Aiden, Tyler— everyone off. It was as if they saw life flash before their eyes…. And while you’re alive in the real world, with no scratches or injuries, they couldn’t afford to lose you again. To make you hopeless, to make you unable to walk.

It was another dream, another dream where suddenly you’re locked in the bird cage Aiden had somehow decided to buy… You stared confused, yearning for an explanation…. But the boys and girls wouldn’t give you any.

❝Guys..? Please… I thought we were a team..❞

❝Princess… We are! We swear…! Please don’t take it badly! We’re doing this for your own good…❞

You couldn’t really argue with them. You’re just tired and you have been unable to get proper sleep… You suppose it’s okay but… It wasn’t getting better as you thought it would. Despite dreams having you only locked up every now and then, in the morning in reality- you are FOLLOWED constantly by either the twins, Ashlyn, Aiden, or Ben… Logan? Probably cameras in your house (not your bedroom or bathroom) to ensure you made it home safely.

It’s getting out of hand. It’s going bizarre, but are you doing something about it? NO! Their parents scares you! You don’t want to break your friendship either… You knew how easily broken they’d be… And… You don’t want to handle or deal with Aiden’s family, nor do you wanna karate with Ashlyn’s mother. You can’t even fight!

So the only thing you could do was just… Accept it as it is. And let it be… Although you probably aren’t aware that the parents adores you, finding you so sweet and matchable for their little children. You don’t pay attention to that, all you could focus on were your eyebags and your injured body…. There wasn’t anything, reality-wise, but God it stung that you could barely make it through school. Even though I kind of said you give excuses…. You still had to do exams for at least collage….

Don’t take them wrong, they’d love for you to stay safe and to not join the horror attraction… But also, after the reveal when the parents could also see the demonic creatures, it instantly clicks that you weren’t safe. Nor were your parents. (Don’t give a damn about your parents, they don’t like them)

They need you. They constantly need you. They can’t have you out of your cage, but they can’t have you out of the dreams as well…. Which considers leading it to having you as some sort of a motivation. They need you to support them for everything they do.

So when the parents are going into that situation, it’s best to believe they NEED you with them so nobody in reality can kidnap you while they’re asleep…. Fighting off monsters, you know?

And the shady guys? Do not worry a single thing about them at all.

I mean, what more could you possibly do than to be stuck in your own bedroom or classroom? You’re going nowhere near the stores or arcade. Not after that Logan incident, that is….

[majinbangus]

"Sunshine, where you goin'?"

You're three steps out of the bar when you hear him calling over the light pitter patter of the rain. You turn around to see him standing in the threshold, keeping the door open with the low light of the bar streaming out behind him. He looks ethereal. Like some type of incorporeal vision as the background chatter of the bar leaks out, creating an asmr-esque buzz.

You're unworthy to be in his presence. Wet and cold. Miserable and pitiful. A background character no one ever pays attention to. Yet he's here talking to you.

"I'm going back to the barracks." You shift uncomfortably between your feet. "I'm tired."

Maybe it's the way the shadows play across his face, but he looks disappointed for a split second.

"Oh, but you just got here? I wanted to..." He trails off, frowning and clenching his fists for a moment before letting the tension drop with a sigh, "Never mind. Lemme walk you back."

"You don't have to do that-"

"No, but I want to."

He's already stepping your way, leaving little room for argument. The bar doors shut, and suddenly, it's just you and him. Still, you try to give him an out.

"But what about that lady you were talking to?"

The one you saw start a conversation with him before you left. The one in the pretty dress. The one who looked like she would be his perfect match.

"Only lady I wanna be talking to is you, Sunshine."

It's a funny joke, so you laugh. "Be serious."

"I am, Sun." He says it like it's true, and because he's got you stunned, he takes the opportunity to grab your hand and place it on his chest, holding you there.

He's warm. A stark contrast to the coldness that runs through your body. And despite the layers of clothing, you can feel the faint beating of his heart under your palm. Strong. Steady. Alive.

Your fingers twitch, curling into his chest. There's something calming about feeling that heavy beat against your palm.

"I was gonna tell you this inside where it's warm and dry, but I guess now's a good a time as any."

You look up from where you were watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest. "What?"

"I wanted to tell you how I feel, Sun. Ask you out proper and take you out on a date," He confesses, hand pressing against yours a tad tighter, heart beating just a little harder. "If you'd let me."

It somehow doesn't feel real. Like you're having an out of body experience or dreaming something impossible. And yet... And yet, the way his heart beats so clearly tells you everything you need to know. Everything you ever hoped for. You would be a fool to reject him, even if this all turns out to be some cruel hallucination.

"I'd really like that."

The grin he rewards you with is heavenly.

"Yeah?" He steps a little closer, his musk filling the air you breathe, amplified by the misty rainstorm. You're surrounded by him. Encapsulated in his presence. It'd be a crime if you stepped away now. "You mean that?"

"Yeah, so... Guess there's nothing left to do but kiss in the rain, huh?" You shoot him a tentative smile, hand trembling nervously against his chest. "Take advantage of the crappy weather and all."

The amused huff he exhales lets you know you said the right thing, and the bashfulness you feel is replaced with anticipated glee at the sight of his lips slashing into a smirk. He uses his other hand to wrap around your waist and pull you flush against him. You lick your lips when his eyes dart down to study them, breath stuttering as he leans in, murmuring in that low, resonating timbre you love so much, "Guess so."

And then he presses his lips against yours with the beat of his heart thundering wildly under your palm.

-

Inspired by this:

Bruno Mars, Anderson .Paak, Silk Sonic- Leave The Door Open (Live from the iHeartRadio Music Awards) @ 2:35