#I hope the guilt ate that man alive

[kiegotakami]

so this is maybe a little heavy but my great uncle died and I keep reading his obituary and staring at the many photos and I can’t believe the man described as “a true lover of all people and places” smiling among friends and family I’ve never met is the same one who was so cold-hearted that he has hoarded photos of my grandfather from my dad and his brothers for decades and even forgot who my dad was when they surprisingly saw each other at a funeral because my great uncle decided to cut off contact completely with the sons of his brother, who died tragically, never paying them any mind again

[milkb0nny]

Burgundy Leaves

Ivar The Boneless x gn!reader

Comfortember Day 3: Leaves Changing

Summary: You and your little sister decided to take a stroll through the forest to collect the colorful leaves of autumn. While you both ate some freshly made buns and played catch, you accidentally bumped into Ivar.

Note: Okay... I'm fangirling. This one kinda hit me a little harder than it should. It's so wholesome.

Warnings: none

word count: 999

With the arrival of the cooler season autumn, the leaves slowly turned from a bright green to a sensation of colors. The dense, towering trees of the forest beckoned, their leaves glowing with the fiery hues of autumn. It was a world of vibrant reds, golds and oranges - a symphony of colors that enchanted your senses. This was the kind of season where you felt most alive, and the beauty of the forest had always been your refuge.

Whenever the temperatures dropped the people in Kattegat knew to prepare for winter, equipping themselves with wood, blankets and a food storage. Although the colder season might not be everyone’s favorite, you quite liked it. You had a younger sister, named Ingrid, who also waited for autumn every single year. Therefore, the day you noticed the significant change in the leaves, you took her by her hand and dragged her into the town of Kattegat. Before you made your way into the forest, you stopped by a small stall. You knew the owner of the shop quite well because you had been buying freshly baked buns every other day. After putting the still steaming baking goods in your picnic basket, you and your sibling started your journey.

While you entered the nearby forest, the sunlight filtered through the dense foliage, creating a mosaic of light and shadow on the forest floor. The rustle of leaves beneath your feet and the chorus provided a soothing function.

Your sister ran free, catching falling leaves, collecting the most beautiful artworks by nature and eating snacks out of the picnic basket here and there. A bright smile covered your lips while you watched Ingrid being a happy child.

“Can we play catch, y/n?” She asked you, her eyes flickering in hope.

You answered, “Sure, I’ll count to ten and then I’ll come get you!”

The loud giggles emerged from your younger sister, as her feet made their way through the familiar collection of trees. Shortly after you reached the number ten, you began to run after her.

Suddenly, you trip over a thick branch as you ran around the corner. Though, your lovable face did not hit the hard ground.

With a soft gasp, you stumbled backward as you made contact with Ivar's firm, armored chest. The surprise was mirrored in his cobalt blue eyes as you looked up, a sudden rush of embarrassment coloring your cheeks.

“Y/n!” Ingrid screamed, speeding back to you immediately. “Did you hurt yourself?”

You shook your head, smiling awkwardly.

“I'm so sorry," you stammered, glancing at the tall man, your voice tinged with guilt. "I didn't see you coming. Are you alright, Ivar?"

You felt his icy eyes inspecting every single inch of you, thus made you flush. In all secrecy you owned a soft spot for Ivar. Of course you weren’t in a very deep relationship, but from time to time you helped him, accompanied him or cooked him dinner, whenever he didn’t want to eat with his own family.

“It appears we were both lost in our own little worlds," he replied, smiling softly.

Your sister, confused about the romantic tension between the both of you, distracted herself with collecting more leaves. Ivar studied Ingrid for a moment, his curiosity evident in the quirk of his lips.

“You are collecting leaves? A simple yet beautiful pursuit." Ivar grinned at your sister, who picked out a beautiful red maple leaf. She turned around and gifted it to Ivar, expressing her appreciation. Your heart warmed up at that sight, since he was so gentle with your little sister.

Ingrid’s high voice chimed in with enthusiasm, "Would you like to join us, Ivar? I’ll make you your own crown out of red leaves!"

Ivar, usually not so fond of children, appreciated your little sister a lot. She was honest and kind, unlike many other kids who lived in Kattegat. On top of that, the Viking loved one particular person who was linked to Ingrid - you.

Ivar considered the offer for a moment before a playful glint entered his eyes.

"Very well, little Lady. I shall accompany you,” he accepted, watching her happily run off to guide Ivar and you.

As you continued to explore the forest together, you couldn't help but be captivated by Ivar's presence. Since he had learned how to walk with his crutches, his tall body always surprised you. You liked him, crawling or walking, it didn’t matter to you.

You and Ingrid led the way to the most unique spots in the forest, where the trees cast long and the colors of autumn were most resplendent. Ingrid collected leaves of rich burgundy, while you gathered those of gold and orange. Ivar watched the scene with a hint of awe in his eyes. Ivar's gaze met yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The connection between you deepened - you felt like you were the only two souls in the whole forest. Ingrid, ever the perceptive one, excused herself to give the two of you some privacy.

Ivar leaned closer, his presence filling your senses as he whispered, "Y/n, there’s something immaculate about you. I hope we won’t grow apart."

Red hues rushed over your cheeks, your fingers fidgeted with the fur of your coat and you unconsciously bit the skin of your bottom lip while you let his words swallow you whole. You barely could form a sentence under the embarrassment.

“Ivar, no. I apologize, I mean, I’ll always accompany you. Wherever you go,” you stuttered slightly, staring into the blue, vibrant eyes which formed a perfect contrast with the orange hues of autumn. As the forest whispered its melody and the leaves rustled, Ivar closed the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss. His lips molded perfectly against yours, igniting passion that had smoldered beneath the surface.

A kiss you never forgot - your first one under the rain of changing leaves.

[starrluvs]

Hi! i wanted to request a scenario where the reader is Bi-Han's S/O but Kuai Liang and Tomas also have a crush on her...sfw or nsfw if that is okay...

𝐊����𝐀𝐈 𝐋��𝐀𝐍𝐆 & 𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐕𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐃𝐀 | 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍 𝐁𝐈-𝐇𝐀𝐍'𝐒 𝐒/𝐎

cw: gn reader, mentions of jealousy, kuai liang/tomas overhearing naughty you and bi-han's activities in the night time, masturbation, somewhat soft bi-han, edging (if you squint), minors dni let me know if i've missed anything!

wc: 933

a/n: thanks for the ask, nonnie! i love writing for the lin kuei bros so muchhh <3 also i made it both sfw and nsfw, i hope you enjoy!

imagine being bi-hans partner while both of his little brothers secretly have a crush on you

you’ve personally never noticed kuai liang and tomas’ attraction towards you–. perhaps you were just oblivious to it? they had only ever come across to you as respectful and kind. the two of them hadn’t a clue that both of them had their own respective attraction towards you. deep down they knew their feelings for you were wrong, but any hints of guilt got washed out of their system every time they saw you– your beauty was unmatched, and they secretly envied their older brother.

imagine how careful they would be to avoid suspicion from bi-han

there had to have been a reason as to why the two brothers would preferably talk to you when the eldest of the three wasn't around… right? kuai liang would sometimes take the risk of being near you, but just act as natural as possible if bi-han was around. tomas on the other hand– you're off limits when bi-han is nearby. apart from his very rocky relationship with the eldest brother, the last thing he���d want is to be embarrassed in front of you by bi-han. regardless, neither of them wanted to know what punishment would await them if bi-han had figured out their feelings for his one and only beloved.

imagine both brothers wishing they could swap places with bi-han and have you all for themselves 

bi-han was never one for public displays of affection, especially around his fellow lin kuei warriors. he was grandmaster and he knew he had an image to uphold whenever he wasn't behind closed doors. but kuai liang and tomas were always able to catch your glances of adoration directed at bi-han and could only watch you from afar, wishing you could stare at them like that– just like they did towards you.

imagine the two younger brothers having to listen to you and bi han making love all night

with their separate rooms being connected right next to bi-han’s, kuai liang and tomas weren't new to the sounds that came out muffled through their walls during late hours of the night. having to hear your sounds of pleasure, but for another man– their older brother –was something that ate them alive with envy and jealousy.

imagine the way they would keep their ear on the walls of their own separate rooms to hear you as clear as possible 

the average person would have been annoyed by the multiple nights that consisted of your delicate moans, but that wasn’t the case with kuai liang and tomas… there were many occasions in which they couldn't help but lean in close to their wall and put their ear against it, just hoping to hear your sounds more clear and less muffled. they could both feel their cheeks heat up now that they can hear all the words, squeals and moans that escaped your lips. what they would do to have bi-han’s name replaced with theirs instead…

imagine how the two brothers would stroke their desperate cocks and try to stifle their moans and whimpers of your name

 hearing all your cries that echoed through their walls always managed to get the two younger lin kuei riled up as they felt their blood shoot straight down to their lower regions. every time you and bi-han were up to explicit acts, it always resulted in kuai liang and tomas stroking their cocks and trying to hold back their sounds with their free hand. their undergarments and sleeping robes pushed out of the way to give them easy access, leaning against the wall, knees buckled and wobbling– the intense pumping of their hands on their cocks was relentless. their efforts of being silent weren't enough with the way your name continuously rolled off their tongue.

imagine the type of fantasies they have of you while their eyes are screwed shut, chasing their own pleasure, pumping faster and faster

being able to hear you was always enough to fuel their imagination. neither of the younger lin kuei assassins stopped pleasuring themselves as they closed their eyes and imagined you in different scenarios. kauai liang could vividly picture you on your back as you moaned beneath him, whereas tomas liked to imagine you on top of him, bouncing on his cock and making those pretty sounds that were being made in the room beside his. the speed and force of their pumps only grew more and more intense by the second.

imagine the cryomancer finally allowing you to reach your climax

bi-han stayed buried inside of you while he felt you pulse around his cock. after an appropriate amount of pleading, he finally let you cum… he helped you ride out your high, resulting in you letting out trembling moans and whimpers that bounced off the walls. as you started to regain composure, bi-han captured your lips in a hot kiss, despite his cold lips. the grandmaster’s tongue dominated yours while sharing the kiss, causing you to grip onto his broad shoulders. you felt relieved and at complete peace with your lover so close to you.

imagine kuai liang and tomas, in both of their rooms, still clasping a hand over their mouth to muffle the sounds of their whimpers while they spill their seed all over their hand and robes/undergarments

looking down at the mess they’ve made only caused them to frown after their few moments of bliss…

how were they ever going to get over you?

[mooishbeam]

『♡』 The Remarkable Machine Who Learned How to Love

♡ featuring: toji x f!reader

♡ cw/tw: none, a little angst but a whole lot of fluff! wc: 1.6k+

notes: i was thinking about this all day and decided to whip up somethin in a couple hours. hope u like :P art by manuel_juju on twitter! comments and reblogs are appreciated!

In a kill-or-be-killed world, Toji reached the top of the food chain—unfortunately, staying at the top is a thousand times harder than the climb. And when he looked down, there was no one to catch his fall.  

Before Toji met you, he was as aimless as a speck of dust, carried endlessly by an unpredictable tide of winds. He followed the cracked and crumbled path bespoken for lost souls like himself. Destined to be nothing but a vessel, a hollow man of sturdy muscle who worked himself to the bone, filthy jobs common men wouldn’t dare consider, because who was there to stop him anyway? Was there anything left for men birthed from hopeless circumstances, raised by broken homes to turn to lives of criminality? He couldn’t find an answer. He wasn’t equipped with the empathy to understand why guilt gnawed at his conscious; why whenever he ate takeout in his dimly lit apartment, it spilled out the chasm in his chest.  

It was much easier to complete the task, to trudge to a check cashing facility to retrieve money he couldn’t care less about. Perhaps he’d walk this earth alone forever, constantly watching over his back from a fear of daggers shooting from every direction, waiting to strike at his most vulnerable. It was only a matter of time.  

Or maybe he’d allow his sins to surpass him. Accept the peaceful release of death and pay the price of a vacant funeral service.  

It was all but irreparable, until he walked into his usual convenience store and encountered the new clerk at the register. It was past midnight, and Toji placed the quick meal on the counter. When his tired eyes panned up from those frozen noodles, his heart reset, a part he thought died amidst the torment. It skipped across his ribcage, stopped until a fleeting breath pulled him back to reality, to the intense fluorescent lights and your warm welcoming smile. There wasn’t a single altercation that stole the air from his lungs the way you did.  

Life hadn’t torn you apart yet.  

Your eyes didn’t break away, unexpected, as Toji was used to people hanging their heads near him. He’s aware of his threatening stare and intimidating stature; it’s what keeps him alive. And you were unbothered. You scanned his item, and flashed those pearly whites that sent a nosedive straight to his stomach, “I’m a big fan of this brand!”  

Toji remained tight lipped, unwilling to sift through difficult emotions and experience a feeling he believed himself to be undeserving of. He nodded, and somehow you continued, “Shouldn’t eat so late, though. Messes with your stomach.” A puff of wind pushed from his nose before he could stifle it. “Are you a doctor in the daytime?” You chuckled and bagged, “Sorry, slow day.”  

He arrives the same week, searching for a couple of beers to bring back to his apartment. You were in an obviously dangerous position, with one foot off the step ladder as you attempted to push a bottle of cleaner onto the highest shelf. It was a fight between gravity, and the opponent nearly won before his hand grabbed the handle. “Oh! Thank you” you smiled. It was sunnier than the last and reopened the stitches he’d been struggling to sew since that moment.  

Toji suddenly had countless excuses to go to the convenience store. Sometimes he’d enter for a snack, and you’d discuss your favorite chips, other times he pretended to need items just to hear your voice ramble about a niche topic you knew too much about. When his heart thrummed off kilter, and his mind became consumed with thoughts of the pretty night-shift cashier, a piece of him demeaned. How embarrassing it was, to be attracted to the scripted kindness of a service worker. Toji barely recognized he had favorites, let alone desires. So why did he have such an unwavering desire to see you?  

He’d snatch a pack of noodles one day, a subconscious grin at the joining of your eyes. It didn’t matter if the twinkle in your gaze wasn’t exclusive to him; for a second, it felt like someone cared, and it was fulfillment he couldn’t shake.  

You leaned over the counter on your elbows, “Did you know there’s over 35,000 ramen noodles restaurants in Japan?”  

“I didn’t, but that sounds like a lot of options.”  

“Mhm, you should try one. The real thing is way better.”  

“I’m sure. I don’t really go out to restaurants often, so…”  

“Me neither”, there’s a lengthy pause, and you finally blurted, “maybe we could go together!”  

He was stunned. Lost for words, really. It wasn’t possible, a girl as beautiful as you who wants to be seen with a stone-cold machine in public. It had to be a prank, a fabrication by fate to taunt him. You grew an anxious smile, “Hah, sorry, I overstep-“  

“I want to.” You stiffened, and he found solace in your shared nervousness. “O-oh! Great!” 

Toji’s first date with you had been a disaster, though. He’s heavy handed by design, and it’s no different in his daily life. His strength leads to instances of clumsy behavior. He expected you to be appalled, disgusted, or at least judgmental.  

You never shunned him. When he held your hand too tight, you slightly unclasped it. He wanted to retreat, to stuff them in his pockets and remain at a safe distance. But you interlocked hands and spoke soft, “It's okay, just try not to hold so tight.”  

He swung the door open for your entry and almost shattered the glass door on the opposite wall. “I appreciate your enthusiasm” you giggled.  

He was afraid to even hug you—he might underestimate his strength and crush your sternum. Toji walked you back to your place and turned to leave. “I’ll see ya around.” Despite that, you guided his calloused hands around your waist, slinked into his broad body, and embraced him.  Every aspect of you, foreign but comforting—little breaths fanning his shirt, fingers brushing along his back, sugary perfume wafting in his nose.  

It was heaven on Earth.  

Now years have gone by, and instead of bleached walls and silence greeting him as his eyes crack open in the morning, he smells the familiar scent of pancakes, pans clattering on the stove. He waltzes into the kitchen in a hazy state and admires the aching back of his very pregnant wife. You have a hand assisting your lower back and another on the wooden spatula scrambling eggs. 

Toji dropped his past for you after the engagement.  He cashed his last check and disappeared from the underground circle without a trace. He was aware if he continued the path he was heading, the result awaiting him was six feet under. The outcome was unimportant, however, you—the image of tears streaming down your face at his poor volition, your figure keeled over his gravesite under dewy grass and wailing for his return to no avail. He couldn’t stomach it. He had to protect you and commit to the next stage of his life. He’d never tell you about his previous work. It was for the best. He’d be selfish, just this once. 

One sock is different from the other, wearing loose shorts and a random shirt sitting above your massive belly. It’s his preferred version of you. Your stomach and thighs adorned in stretch marks, shaped like tiger stripes that declare your strength through each dip and curve; It's his greatest honor. You’d take on the complications, unending exhaustion, and hormone imbalances to bless him with a child. Toji hasn’t let you lift a finger since you got pregnant, opting to handle all the household tasks, borderline subservient to the mother of his child. So, his mouth twists when he sees you up so early.  

He stands behind you, hands trailing from your upper thighs to your stomach, then the small of your back. You lean into him while he massages circles and whisper a tiny “Good morning.” 

“Ya could’ve woke me up” Toji mumbles, kissing your temple. He wraps around to the underside of your belly, mindful of his muscle, and lifts it carefully. His respect for you increases tenfold with the heavy weight on his palms. You hum a pleased noise, sudden relief from your back. He carries it and smooths his thumbs over the taut skin. 

“You’re a late sleeper, and I haven’t made breakfast in a long time.” 

“Ya don’t have to do a thing, y’know.” 

“I know. But I wanna do this for you”, and he grins. It’s quiet, standing in the warmth of your bodies, sunshine glowing through the window to cast an angelic gleam on your face.  

Then he feels an imbalance of pressure along his fingers and mild wriggling within your tummy. Toji traces the movements, seeking to play a game with his unborn child. Sometimes it scares him, to bring new life into a world that almost smothered his light.  He worries that he’ll end up on the same road as him or he won’t be a good enough father. The journey of parenthood is a long, laborious one. You’re always learning, and Toji’s still processing the basics. It’s complicated, he trips and falters; yet you’re there to support him, through thick and thin, sickness and in health.  

What was he if not for you—his pillar, his source of happiness and comfort. You’d given him everything to wish for and infinite reasons to stick around. An iron criminal, bested by no mortal, chipped away by compassion and gentle hands. 

“You can let go if it’s too heavy.” 

I can stay here forever. 

[yanderederee]

I’mHere

cw: yan!themes/mentions of murder/attempted murder/angst/little comfort at end (lowkey yan!reader? oops)

a/n: I’ve had an idea to write this for a long long time now, and only now felt the motivation to do so. Sorry I can’t help having a savior complex~

—-*depicts PreManila!Mikey

Part1 … Part2 … Part3 … Part4 … Now~

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

How long had it been since Mikey went missing, now? How many years had it been since he broke your heart, with that dark and empty look? Your Manjiro… what happened to make him look at you with those dead eyes?

All these years later, you still hadn’t found the answers to any of these questions. Even when you tried to escape the mystery of his leaving, the guilt of not knowing ate away at you. Sure, Mikey had his own issues he had to work out. He was severely messed up over the continuous misfortunes that littered his life. But you always hoped he would keep you by his side to help him find the peace he deserved.

After his disappearance, Toman did their best to look after you. Having been one of Mikey’s support systems, they respected all the effort you put into coddling him. Draken especially. Over the years, they would maintain contact with you, but never had any information to comfort your plagued conscience.

Recently, however…. Obituaries of your once friends were popping up left and right.

Murdered.

Your head spun when Draken’s funeral invitation sat in your shaking hands. Draken? Of all people, he was the strongest person you knew. Dead? Just like Mitsuya, Hakkai, Sanzu—everyone. Was there anyone left to cry to? Takemichi briefly occupied your thoughts, he was still alive, right? But he’d been out of contact for so long, would he even recognize you?

All the death and disappointment of the rotting world had taken its own toll on your mental state. All these years, it was still hard to find stable work. All your money was spend to surviving, your head just barely above water. No matter how hard you tried doing better, nothing ever got better. Not since Mikey left.

The night of Draken’s closed casket funeral came to pass, and all that remained was your sobbing self, having just made it back to your quiet home. Everything became more real all over again. Every single time you attended your old friend’s funerals, something inside you felt like it died all over again.

It wasn’t worth dragging yourself to bed. Wasn’t worth changing out of the same black dress you’ve worn so many times now. You may as well be buried in it. You were surely to be next; right? No one knew who the murderer was, but given the grudge on Toman, you had to be somewhere on the list; right?

You didn’t even care, at this point. Let them come. There wasn’t anything left to keep you connected to this damned existence anyway. Not since that day. Not without your Manjiro.

In the middle of the night, your sleep was once again interrupted with another nightmare. This was normal.

What wasn’t normal was this weird ominous feeling. Like something was watching you. Maybe it was because your window blinds were wide open. Maybe it was because of your bad habit to leaving your front door unlocked. Regardless, that fear quickly dissipated.

You had no tears left to cry, and felt numb to the events that plagued your thoughts at every waking hour. If something bad were to happen, perhaps you would welcome it.

“How pitiful…” you croaked out a humorless laugh. That was right. You didn’t care if something happened to you. Not anymore.

“You’re awake…” spoke a familiar voice. Despite your previous claim of fearing nothing, you broke out into a cold sweat at the sudden sound. There was someone in your apartment. Staring at you. It was instinctual to look around for who.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Having heard him the second time much closer now, your head snapped to the side, about ten feet away was a man. He was shorter, with long black hair and dark dress attire. The room was dark, so even while he was hard to make out, your eyes zoned in directly to the intruder’s eyes.

Your own eyes welled with tears. You knew that empty gaze anywhere. It was him, finally.

“Manjiro…” you whispered affectionately. There was no mistaking him. Weak in the knees, you still attempted to meet him in standing. What do you even say? Should you be mad, he broke in, right? You should be angry about the way he left you—everyone, without reason. Yet the only thing you felt was gratitude.

“I missed you.” You admitted. There was nothing left for you to lose, not even pride.

Mikey’s expression flinched, but only for a moment. He was always weak to your crying. His lips gaped for a second, but slipped back into a thin line. He held back words you so desperately wanted to hear.

“Never kicked that bad habit of yours, I see.”

He was talking about your unlocked door.

“You were never good at picking locks, how else would you get in?”

“Were you expecting me?”

“Hoping more than expecting.”

“You should value your life more, you know.”

“So I am next, aren’t I?”

He was once again at a loss of words. You were right, but he expected you to at least scream at him for leaving the way he did, wail about why he would commit the atrocity of murdering everyone he cared about, beg him to spare you. Anything.

Mikey stepped closer, til you were within reach. He drew out to touch your cheek, expecting you to recoil and dodge. Yet when his cold skin met with your tear stained cheeks, you all but nuzzled into his hand.

“Were you lonely?” You asked, even though you knew the answer. He had lost himself to that same loneliness a long time ago.

“I’m sorry,” you gently laid a hand over the back of his own, warming him with what little heat you had. “I should have ran after you that day. I shouldn’t have let you go so easily. I’m sorry.” You apologized again, a mournful expression taking over as your tears fell in doubles.

“I didn’t give you a choice.” He answered, slowly bringing up his other hand to lightly caress the soft skin on your neck. With one hand, he tightened his grip around your neck. “You never had a choice.”

While it became more difficult to breathe, it wasn’t impossible. He definitely had the strength to do so physically. Yet you two stood in longing eye contact.

“I’ve been as good as dead for a long time now,” you offered him a weak smile, once again leaning into his hand. “My life has been yours, ever since we first met. Do with it as you will.”

“I’m just so happy I finally get to see you again…” you desperately wished to throw your arms around him, breathe in his scent and give him all the warmth you had to offer. But the grasp on your neck kept you in place.

“Why…” Manjiro couldn’t understand. “Why don’t you feel any resentment towards me? I was the one who ruined everything back then. Even to this day, I’ve killed so many friends. Even if you hold no value for your own life, you cared about them, right? Or did they mean nothing to you?” His grip tightened, causing you to choke.

Dare you explain yourself? He was about to give you the closure you craved, either way.

“Revenge was always your thing, not mine. I’ve no use for it. Not when the only thing that now matters to me is already right in front of me…”

Mikey narrowed his gaze. “You really should value your life more.” He graveled with another squeeze, cutting off your air flow.

You didn’t struggle. “My life… is yours…” you repeated, smiling past the tears running down your face.

It made his stomach twist. Was it disgust? No, guilt. After everything, you were just equally as broken. Lonely, with no one to turn to. Just like him.

He imagined you, back in middle school. With all your passion and laughter. He remembered your embrace, the tears you shed were always on his behalf. Your selfless acts of service.

His hand around your throat squeezed even tighter, bruising the soft skin underneath, before ultimately letting you go completely.

“Mine… you say…” Manjiro sighed, hanging his head. He couldn’t do it. He thought he’d killed all the emotions he had. Thought he could leave it all behind and wipe the slate clean. But he couldn’t. Not when his heart still yearned for something. You— always you. Only you, now…

“Yours,” you affirmed hoarsely, cradling his head against your shoulder tenderly. Your beating heart sped up, so eager to have him close.

Despite all his sins, you were elated to still have him. Your Manjiro.

Again at a loss of words, Mikey sighed, allowing himself to be held. He fell slack against your arms, and loosely wrapped his arms around your waist. “I still have you…” he affirmed himself, like hope still existed.

You nodded, and eased him in further. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders tightly, combing your fingers up the nape of his neck and gently scratching his scalp. Your other hand smoothed over his back up and down.

He was real. In your arms at last.

“I’m here.”

And he believed it. He didn’t care if you were lying or manipulating him. Having been ready to end it all himself, with nothing else to live for, and neither did you.

Just two lonely souls seeking each other. This was enough. Even if he couldn’t end it tonight, he could in the future. Even if he had nothing else left to keep him attached to this rotting world, he still craved your embrace. If only for that one thing, he wanted to be alive.

To hold you; and to be held by you.

Even if nothing else mattered, you were there. And that was enough, if only for tonight.

And so, Mikey closed his eyes, and finally found the peace he’d long been searching for. If only for tonight, he slept in comfort and content. And when he woke, you would still be there, your life forfeit, and his to claim.

Life had meaning again.

Even if that meaning was just each other.

[missmarveledsblog]

I'll show you different (Joel Miller x Reader ) Part 9 No outbreak! au

summary : as peach is wondering what happens next.. she doesn't expects the outcome and leading to things she never thought would happen nor things she would do .

warnings : mentions of domestic abuse , unrealistic law gibber jabber , fluffy

previous part

It wasn’t long til more and more showed up maria gave her statement , neighbor gave their own , camera footage and  his own dash cam added into the evidence . all the documents , court orders that held on her side being put through a fine comb and yet none of that was a priority . the priority in all their minds right now was on a table as surgeons fighting to save her life.  Maria was shaken it all happened in the blink of an eye , from him being on top of peach , to him plunging the knife in her gut , how peach pushed her way to take the brunt of his anger .  tommy memories of old friends fate to a new friend someone he considered family fate was hanging in the balance . nathan guilt of not seeing it sooner , not putting stop to it sooner . joel’s whole life behind that door , the first time in long time of opening up and it was or could be gone . each holding on to that hope she was going to be ok this was going to be something they would look back at and wondered how it was their life.  One thing they oddly felt grateful was john was still unconscious the stress of it all would kill the man .  they hoped they didn’t need to be delivering different kind of news .  

His eyes never left the door even as it opened he was first to stand  , trying to gauge the expression of the mans face coming towards the group . 

“ family of miss y/n l/n “ 

“ here “ joel  nodded , “ we’re her family , her grandfather is in a coma and sherif is here too “ . 

“ she is extremely lucky , it was touch and go for a while whoever try intended to do as much damage as possible but she is stable and will need to be on bed rest to recover , i will had over everything as soon as i can nurses are also taking pictures as requested “ he nodded. 

“ who requested them ?” sherif head tilted. 

“ miss y/n told us no matter what to give the extent of  her injuries to the sherif , including the dna we might find on her skin “ . 

“ smart girl “ he shook his head. 

“ you can see her as soon as their finished and all pictures and stuff will be sent to the lab , another bed will be put in her grandfathers room “ he nodded. 

“ thanks doc “ joel shook his hand as they all walked toward her grandfather room only to see the man himself sitting up . 

“ hey john “ tommy wince giving current state of the rest of them . 

“ listen old man what were going to tell you is going to be a lot but you need to stay calm she is ok and will be here shortly” maria smiled weaked. 

“ why y’all covered in blood  and who’s that guy or the two guys that sitting outside my room “ he asked . 

“ i’m nathan barnes friend and lawyer of your granddaughter , this is her blood , her ex took her but she fought back and he’s dead but she alive and out of surgery be here soon “ he explained as the monitor started beeping . 

“ calm yourself she fought like hell so she needs you alive” joel snapped. 

“ she’s ok ?” 

“ yeah she’s a fight so course she is , little bad ass “ tommy grinned. 

“ she save my life” maria smiled as tears filled her eyes . 

“ you saved mine first burst in like annie oakley “ the voice croaked 

“You little shit i go into a coma and you do all this “ her grandfather held his chest. 

“ oh give up  i fought back and won” she rolled her eyes as they all glared at her. “ no yelling this is hospital “ she added. 

“  little peach your gonna give us all a heart attack “ he grumbled .

 “ sweet as a peach i think i get why they call you that” nathan chuckled. 

“ i thought it was cause she got a nice ass” tommy winked only for maria to slap him . 

“ it’s because i ate all the peach filling on my grandma  that my grandpa said i was going to turn into one “ she yawned. 

“ there must of been a dozen peaches in that filling “ her grandfather chucked . 

Yet joel laughed til he saw the bruises formed around her neck , the cuts on her lip and cheeks as well as bruises scattered all over the part he could see . 

“Hey i’m ok other than sore side and aches and sounding like darth vader .. i’m alive and i’m ok “ she smiled softy . “ i fought back for first time in my life i didn’t run” . 

“ you scared the shit out of us all “ he sighed taking her hand in his . 

“ yeah i was scared  i was scared being back in that house more than the man that brought me there” 

“  he did what! “ her grandfather exclaimed as monitors start beeping loudly once more . 

“ why is that place still up ?” she asked . 

“ cause i was waiting til you gave the ok to bring it down its all your name now kid “ he sighed. 

“ well then bring it down til nothing left” she croaked  god even talking hurt . 

“ ok ok enough of this talk , save your voice they’re gonna wanna talk to you after about all this” sheriff spoke up .  

“ am i in trouble “ she asked . 

“ no darling i’ll make sure of it “ he patted her cheek softly. 

“ but i could be ?” she asked  more fear in her her voice . 

“Worry about getting better let me worry about the legal stuff  all this evidence we’ve got not a chance of it even going to trial “ nathan smiled. 

“ big city lawyers would know more” tommy winked . 

“ he’s right time to put you first ok  “ joel smiled soft not once did he move from her side on his hands from hers . afraid if he let go he would somehow lose her again . he heart was still beating fast at fact he almost lost her the first time .  seeing her in such a state he heart crashed and fell like it was hovering above ground stuck in a limbo if it was going to break or not and shit still felt like that . seeing her beaten, bruised and weak even though she was the victor in the fight hell it was close to being a loss no one of them would be able come back from .  now she could be in more trouble which he couldn’t understand one bit she tried to get away the evil bastard hunted her down like an animal . nathan was already working a strong case as well as email and text witnesses .  along her own evidence she was so easily able to give . 

A couple of weeks in the hospital she was called to the court house bundle of nerves as she walked into the room seeing the judge and The D.A. standing looking through files of her things picture of when she was younger and in new york , xrays of broken ribs , arm and wrists .  joel stood at her side given her grandfather wasn’t able to and honestly the images  in front of him would send the old man to the grave. 

“ you’re probably wondering why we called you here huh?” the D.A Micheal smith stood .

“ am i being charged?” she asked her voice shaking . 

“  no in this state” the judge spoke up . 

“ but on the condition you attend therapy ,  it’ not a punishment  more of a helping hand of support this is case  probably the most straight forward case of self defense and giving that he followed you here took you by force  , attacked you with force and deadly weapon and your not only protecting your self but your friend and your property , the law is on your side y/n and it sad it was taken to these lengths  “ michael shook his head . 

“ your are strong young lady , remarkable in the strength is something admirable we wish you the best young lady “ the judge stood held out his hand as she shook it still processing the fact she wasn’t being haul off to prison.   

“ your lawyer also has something to discuss with you about properties and stuff so we’ll let you go and deal with that  , here’s my card if you need anything let me know “ michael smiled. 

“ here’s mine too little lady actually my wife holds a support group for women like yourself please feel free to stop by whenever you are ready “ the judge stood . 

“ thank you ?” she was almost asking as they walked out of the room completely .  “ that’s it i’m finally free from this whole thing “ she looked up tears in her eyes trying to process the feeling she was finally free . she couldn’t imagine a day where she could live and not look over her shoulder  having the monster hunting her and now she wasn’t the prey she was the purveyor of it all . she found her damn hardest  and came out the other side . now she live her life ,  like really live her life without anything holding her down  well other than recovery but if she survived the hell  already she could face it all. 

She and joel met nathan at the cafe near the courthouse knowing what was already to happen as he was finishing off the rest of the whole situation he sat smiling brightly like he was the cat that got the cream but then again it was just the fact it ended better than what he thought it would be . the outcome he was expecting was visiting her grave and not here in a cafe . 

“ so i got more good new since he had no other family nor took you out of the will well everything is your the bank  transferred  the fund in your own account  and his properties and cars will all be yours” he smiled .

“ does that mean i have to leave here” she asked almost sadly . 

“ no , you wanna stay here til your 90 then you can , they’ll be there for you  i can sort transport for the cars and …” 

“ sell the cars and donate the money to shelters and whatever from the properties i want to go to two college funds for sarah and ellie miller  and before you say anything it my way of thanking you for everything and it not going to change so accept it “ she turned as joel felt open so fast she thought it was gonna land on the floor . 

“  peach that’s too much honestly i know you love the girls but  and i didn’t help you for you to do this “ he began to speak . 

“ i know you did it without a reward but it not a reward what am i gonna do with all that money  “ she shrugged like it was nothing . 

“ done what about the firm?” nathan asked. 

“ you have it “ she smiled brightly. 

“ maybe you need to sleep and think about all this “ he gulped. 

“  stay on as my lawyer from new york run the firm , you are one who helped me when i thought no one  would ever believe me lost friends and your girlfriend because of all this  i mean it doesn’t even come close to repaying you for how you helped me “ she spoke from the heart he was the first person to see her to help her that was something she would never forget . 

“ only if your my partner in it i mean hell it could be doing nothing but knowing your tied to it all still would make it feel better “ he smiled feeling himself getting choked up . 

“ nope i’ll be your client but this is for you “  . 

“ ok ok thank you “ he hugged her tightly . 

“ thank you from me and the girls honestly its too much “ joel pulled her into a hug . 

“ hey so how does feel to be rich “ nathan chuckled  as they sat down . 

“  i like the fact i’m free more  i never thought i would be “ . 

“ well if anyone deserves this goodness  i would say it you hell your one of my favorite people “ nathan nudged her . 

“ your one of mine  , another is beside me “ she shyly looked at joel . 

“ well least i can leave knowing she will ok especially after meeting you  , it was a pleasure getting to know you joel and your brother and was finally amazing to meet your grandpa it’s shit it was under the circumstances but she alive so i can’t be any happier  i better get going peach i got my flight to catch if your thinking of visiting please let me know and you guys too  , already have plans with your grandfather so “ he chuckled standing as she hugged him again only tears weren’t falling down just her face as he held her  a bit  tighter , kissing her head .  “ i love you kid honestly never stop being you “ he pulled back .

“ it was good meeting you and visit on better circumstances “ joel held his hand out only to pull the man into a hug . 

“ take care of her for me … don’t worry i don’t love her like you do “ nathan whispered pulling back as joel chuckled .   the two led him out waving as he went off  , she was still crying as joel arm was wrapped around her shoulder holding her to his side. 

“ can we go home now “ she sniffled looking up . 

“ yeah come on peach “ 

She felt her eyes widen at the numbers in her account  , she knew he had money but actively seeing how much was astounding . she wasn’t thinking of herself though when she was thinking of the people in her life .  each playing a major part of making her feel happiness she’s ever known and sticking by her side when most would of easily told her to stay away , that her trouble and shit wasn’t theres to deal with but not they literally even risked their lives to have her in their lives making sure she wasn’t alone anymore . even if she had all the money and riches in the world it wouldn’t  be near enough compare to those people in her life . they meant so much more  and ever will  in short span of time they showed her what it was to matter and honestly feel wanted  make her feel human .   she really did luck out in her darkest moment she had people keeping  the light on her and it was only just the start.  More so the man at her side , he opened his home , stayed with her during night she couldn’t sleep or even when she was in the hospital  hell he even showered in the damned place .   she thought she knew what love was , she knew love but not love love . the love she felt for joel was something she only ever seen in movie , book or her grandparent even with her grandmother gone she could see the love her grandfather harbored for his late wife .  she never felt this for her ex husband not even when things were good , she never felt it for anyone before it was totally new , scary and yet welcoming as her hand was in his . touches like this becoming the new norm she wasn’t stupid or naive to think it was just friendly and yet she was still so nervous to take the next step , cross the line of whatever this was to something more. What if she was too damaged to give the love she felt to him in away he deserved .  But wasn’t that what life was about , what living was about. Taking such risks because even though in her experience it never was good but this time she could feel it was different , it would be different .  She didn’t realize how lost she was in her mind til she felt the hand move and the view of their street out the passenger side window .  the  midday sun casting it like over her as she got out of the truck .  the brightness and heat was nothing like the fire that was burning inside her as she stood thinking it all over til she  shook her head knowing she didn’t need to overthink anymore , she was free to make her own choices in life .  like the new lease on life finally setting in as she rushed around the truck ignoring the gathering audience on joel porch  no in that moment the only one in her mind was the man before her .  her hand reaching up to behind his head and her lips crashing against his  , a pleasant surprise when his own pulled her  closer almost instantly he was responding like he could read her mind but she didn’t care for the reason just savoring the feeling of his lips against her own .  How right it felt , how  she didn’t know that this was the feeling she was missing all her life . pulling away she rested her head against his chest a smile so wide she was sure her cheeks would hurt .  looking up words didn’t need to be spoken it was all there in a simple look all that love and adoration channeled between two souls . 

“ praise fucking jesus it’s about time “ tommy called as they looked up see the group beaming down at the two . “ y’all can suck face later come on peach we are celebrating to your new life “ he cheered as they broke out laughing . 

“ i thought i’d be dead and buried before it happened “ john called. 

“ we can drive off just say the word “ joel winked . 

“ i made your favorite mac and cheese “ maria shouted. 

“  yeah maybe after that “ she giggle running ahead as he followed  never did he smile as much as he did in that moment maybe he wasn’t so bad after all . all those harsh words of his ex gone when he was able to have peach  even if it was just that moment but something told him it wasn’t going to be that way he would make sure to not let a woman like that go so easily. 

last part

taglist : @harriedandharassed @missladym1981

[dilfmobius]

coming apart at the seams (lokius)

this is just something i wrote as a way to cope with the all the bad shit i've been feeling for the past few weeks (past several months really, but whose counting?), both physically and mentally. it's going to live here for now, not ao3, because it's really just 1,300 words of me projecting onto Loki. it's messy and maybe doesn't make a lot of sense, but i haven't had the spoons to write (or do anything really) and i need to release this. my body just feels like it's betraying me at every turn, and my mental health is all over the place (negatively).

anywaaaaay here's a snippet, the rest is under the cut:

“Maybe we should see someone,” Mobius says. “Like who? A midgardian doctor?” Loki balks at the thought. “And tell them what, exactly? That I had all of time woven through my entire being and it ate me alive? That everything hurts and my body doesn’t feel like my own, and I no longer feel a connection to my seiðr – oh, and by the way, I’m also a Norse God – got anything for me now?”

Loki sits hunched over the table, a mug of hot tea warming his hands. He takes deep breaths, focusing on the lavender and lemon balm filling his senses, pushing past the throbbing at the back of his skull.

It’s quiet and still, early morning light barely beginning to filter in through the window over the sink.

Loki hears faint footsteps approaching and lifts the mug to his mouth, blowing faintly before he takes a drink. It burns his throat going down and he squeezes his eyes shut, welcoming the heat as it travels to his belly.

It’s only when he feels Mobius’ hands on his shoulders that he drops them from under his ears.

He tilts his head back, resting against Mobius’ chest, and opens his eyes.

“Hey.” Mobius’ voice carries the smile in his eyes, soft and sweet. 

The corners of Loki’s mouth twitch in a pathetic attempt at smiling back, before his face drops back down into something a little less straining.

“You been awake long?” Mobius asks, rubbing his hands over Loki’s shoulders and upper arms.

“Mm,” is all Loki offers.

Mobius doesn't press. Instead he threads his fingers through Loki’s hair, gently massaging, hoping to pour every bit of comfort he can through his finger tips. Between the tea and Mobius’ skilled hands, Loki can feel his body relaxing, melting at the warmth.

“I’m going in today,” Mobius says softly. “Just some training B-15 wants me to be a part of. I  won’t be gone long.” 

Loki blinks his eyes open and stares up at Mobius, sensing the man’s hesitance to even mention work. After everything that happened, almost losing Loki to time, seeing how keeping the timelines together nearly destroyed the god, the last thing Mobius wanted was for Loki to go back to the TVA.

“It’s fine,” Loki says. “I’ll be fine.” He tries for a genuine smile, something to reassure Mobius that he won’t break apart while he’s gone.

Mobius bends down and presses a soft kiss to Loki’s forehead. They stay still for a little while longer, letting the songbirds outside their window fill in the silence.

When Mobius had brought up the idea of moving back down to the timeline, together, Loki was a mess. He insisted that he could still contribute to the important work they were doing. He could still be of use, and he wanted to be a part of the massive changes the TVA was undergoing. No one ever found out why time had spat him out, kicked him off his throne and back to the TVA, and it filled Loki with so much dread and guilt. Once again, that feeling of worthlessness – that he was never good enough – reared its ugly head. And the physical pain that had come along with it reminded Loki that he was only ever deserving of a life full of misery. 

Loki fought Mobius tooth and nail over leaving, accusing the man of coddling him and treating him like a child. Oh, Loki had been cruel and lashed out, in fear and pain. 

But Mobius, persistent and stubborn, would not let Loki wither away.

He had been a witness to Loki putting on a brave face, moving through the constant fatigue and pain, until he just couldn't anymore. Mobius had been there through sleepless nights, night terrors and flare-ups, and everytime someone mentioned how tired Loki looked only for Loki to brush it off and move on. 

A particularly bad flare-up had Mobius’ mind made up. Loki hadn’t been able to leave his bed for a few days, basic tasks damn near impossible without someone’s help. Mobius was always that someone, he was always there no matter what. As much as Loki was comforted by having him there, taking care of him, he couldn’t help the constant guilt and shame filling him up, wrapping itself around his bones and muscles along with the pain.

Mobius had declared that he was leaving the TVA and Loki was coming with him, whether he liked it or not. Loki didn’t have the energy to argue, and Mobius wasn’t particularly proud of how he brought it up, but after shedding many tears and finally drilling it into Loki’s head that there was no greater purpose for Mobius than to take care of the God of Mischief, the choice had been made.

Mobius thought being somewhere, anywhere, other than the TVA would help Loki heal. He had hoped that connecting back to his seiðr, his healing magic, would somehow fix everything. 

Oh, how wrong he’d been.

It’s been months and Loki was still plagued with nightmares, migraines, and aches that coursed through his body daily. 

They hadn’t talked about it, but Loki’s magic hadn’t made an appearance, and he had become an anxious mess, retreating into himself. Mobius would walk in on Loki desperately trying to conjure and cast, ultimately tiring himself out – emotionally and physically. It was hard enough to watch – Mobius couldn’t imagine how hard it was for Loki.

—

“Maybe we should see someone,” Mobius says.

“Like who? A midgardian doctor?” Loki balks at the thought. “And tell them what, exactly? That I had all of time woven through my entire being and it ate me alive? That everything hurts and my body doesn’t feel like my own, and I no longer feel a connection to my seiðr – oh, and by the way, I’m also a Norse God – got anything for me now?” 

“We could go to New Asgard –”

“Absolutely not – I doubt there would be anyone who could help me anyway.”

“Then we go to Asgard, before Ragnarok –”

“No, Mobius,” Loki says, shutting down any and all Asgard talk. He’s not ready for any of that. 

Loki pinches the bridge of his nose and sinks further into the pillows surrounding him on their bed, shame and guilt bubbling in his gut. He reminds himself that Mobius is only trying to help, to be supportive in a situation neither of them know how to navigate.

Mobius pushes away from his spot, leaning against the doorway to their bedroom, so he can join Loki. He replaces a few of the pillows with himself, nudging Loki over a bit (not that Loki was in any mood to protest), carefully slipping his arm around Loki’s thin waist. It doesn’t take much for Mobius to hoist Loki onto his lap, settling him in between his own legs, back to chest. 

Loki goes willingly, ignoring that voice in his head that tells him he wants to be left alone – he doesn't. He wants Mobius near him, he wants Mobius’ arms around him, to be held together by the love and grace of this one man. He might fall apart otherwise.

Loki allows himself this simple pleasure, to be enveloped by Mobius, swathed in a warmth he never thought he would be able to feel. He wishes this alone could heal him. Loki feels Mobius rest his chin on his shoulder, so Loki turns his head to nuzzle into the scruff on Mobius’ face. 

“You need to shave,” Loki says, plainly.

Mobius huffs out a small laugh, and returns the favor by rubbing his rough cheek against the much softer skin of Loki’s. Mobius tightens his grip around Loki’s waist, and Loki brings up a hand to run his fingers through Mobius’ hair.

Loki will let himself have this.

“What about the TVA?” Mobius asks, breaking the spell in the room. Loki groans. 

“And what, in all the nine realms, can the TVA do for me?” Loki asks.

“We can visit the medical wing, maybe they can do some scans – it seems like everyday they're figuring out something new, ways to treat all kinds of things – I don’t know…” Mobius trails off, only a little bit frustrated.

None of this is Loki’s fault, or anyone’s fault, they’re just playing the hand they’ve been dealt. And both Loki and Mobius are nothing if not adaptable.

Loki shifts and twists himself around to get a better look at Mobius, searching his face for… something. 

An answer or solution. 

Mobius always had an answer for everything.

Then again, so did Loki.

But all Loki finds when he looks into those clear blue eyes, past the fear and worry, is love.

His eyes begin to sting and he squeezes them shut.

“Okay.” Loki says.

“Okay.” Mobius replies.

[cutiecusp]

All I wanted was you. PART ONE.

A Phillip Graves x Reader two part drabble, around the time of the betrayal, but not canon...

I made this part really long. It was only meant to be a one and done! I'm still super new to writing, so I'd love to know what you think.

Tw// betrayal, marriage breakdown, angst, a little toxicity, the one that got away.

...................................

He knew he fucked up when the light in your eyes faded when you looked up at him, your gaze once full of light and love, is now replaced by a cold, icy stare. You were furious.

"How could you?" You ask him, seething with anger. You step into his space, your voice soft, but deadly. You place your hands on his chest, grabbing the straps of his tactical vest and pulling him closer to you, making him see what his actions had caused. His cocky smirk was replaced by a stern look back at you, a robotic version of your once loving husband. You didn't even recognise him anymore.

"My family, my friends, my team... Soap, Ghost, Alé...." You pause, unable to look at the man you once loved. You remove your hands from him as if you had been burned, your voice unable to stop shaking as you processed what he was telling you.

"You betrayed them all, Phillip. You betrayed me." You gasp as you head towards the door, only turning to wrench off your wedding ring and watch as it bounces off the floor into the corner of the room.

Graves looks up at the door as it slams shut, the noise echoing in the otherwise quiet base.

"I did it for you, sweetheart." He says to himself.

"It's always been for you."

......................................

After driving away from your family home where you left him reeling, tears stinging your cheeks, your heart broken into pieces, you walk back to into base, your steps heavy with the weight of your husbands betrayal. You hadn't been allowed on this mission, you picked up a stray bullet in the Middle East and stayed on base at the order of your husband, Shadow Company Commander, Phillip Graves.

You had begged to come along, but Phillip saw you as a 'medical liability' and wanted you home safe, so you bit your tongue and stayed back. You hated that he treated you like you were a fragile doll, and over time, you had begun to see what he really was, a snake in the grass.

But, you simply couldnt shake the guilt riddled through you as the thought of Phillip danced through your mind. You couldn't believe he would betray you like this, turning on the team he swore to protect, turning his back on you. You at least thought he would be honour bound at protecting you.

Hearing Soap and Ghost over comms as they found each other, not knowing if the other is alive is what ate at you the most. You had become a member of the Task Force by proxy, being recruited in with Soap, but was welcomed in like you has always belonged. You had seen the team as family, but would they now see you the same?

You take a breath before knocking on Price's door.

"Enter." Came the reply.

You walked in, unable to meet your Captains gaze. Although you didn't partake in the betrayal, you felt a responsibility as it was your husband who gave the order that sent everything into chaos.

"Look at me, Sergeant." He ordered. Your gaze snaps up to his, and you hate what you see. Pain, anger, and possibly the worst of all, disappointment.

"I will ask you this once, and on your life, you had better be bloody honest with me." He pauses.

"Did you know?"

Your face pales. You stare back at him, with what you hope is a neutral face.

"Sir?" You ask cautiously.

"I said. Did. You. Know?" He repeats slowly, his voice low and dangerous.

"No, Captain. I didn't know what his plans were." You reply honestly, wringing your hands together.

"This is as much as a surprise as it is to me, as it is to you."

Captain Price stares at you, taking in every detail, and after a few painstakingly painful minutes, he stands up from the desk.

"No ring?" He taunts.

"No sir. I'm filing for divorce in the morning." You reply quickly, the discomfort and embarrassment of what Phillip is putting you through with his actions showing all over your features.

He simply nods.

"You know, I had to fight Laswell to keep you on the team?" He says bluntly. He walks around the desk so he is toe to toe with you, his broad body taking over much of the area between you both.

"She didn't want me to allow a traitor back into our team. But there's something different.. something I put my finger on when I figured you weren't 'cleared' for the mission."

"He didn't want you there as he wanted you out of the way while he buried us, he didn't want any witnesses or survivors, and as his wife and someone on our team, he saw you as a liability. One of my best soldiers and a jumped up asshole with money decided that you weren't good enough to come raised all the flags I needed. There's a difference between protecting your loved ones and hanging them for your own actions, you have never been a liability." He continues, almost reverse echoing Phillips words back to you.

You nodded, listening to your Captain.

"So I have a choice for you. You are to be taken to a safe house, as a liability to the team that he thinks you are unti lthis is cleared and you will be in court alongside him. Or..."

"Or? Sir?" You ask, raising an eyebrow.

"You come with me and the 141 and we end him. For good."

You take a step back, and gather your thoughts. Your ex husband wouldn't have even hesitated, so why should you.

"I'm in, Sir. " You clarify, holding your head high.

"I only have one condition."

Price nods, encouraging you to speak.

"I get the first punch in." You demand, a glimmer of defiance and strength in your eyes.

"I am not a liability."

*a/n I really worried about the length of this one, so I am breaking it into two parts. What do you all think? It went a weird way so part two will clear things up? Nervous as hell as always.*

@going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @xoxunhinged @misshugs

[fisshindasea]

—almost there—

"you have always waited. kept your patience as strong as your hope that everyday your husband, kento, would come home just as easily as he had breathed. you hung on to his very words, ones he'd whisper to you every time he'd slip past the doors—"ill be home soon."— oh how could he break a promise to you so soon?"

— nanami kento x gn! reader

—angst

—just a dump of sad words before i make a happier one for him. idk the exact month that shibuya happened bc i didnt watch, i couldnt do it. but just pretend it was near the end of the year if it wasnt.

— added note: i wrote this like months ago, idk why i never posted it, but im doing it now so you guys arent thirsty for new stuff.

m.list

you knew it wouldn't be easy. knew that this home you and your husband had built from the ground up with love, trust, and understanding, would all crumble down the moment he left those doors and never came back.

but you trusted the God, Deity, or whatever high being was guiding you to keep your home from falling apart.

and everyday, you kissed your husband goodbye and watched him leave your home after whispering his promise to you—"ill be home soon."— you held onto it too strong.

you hoped that even with the countless hours of him being gone that eventually in the morning, you'd find his arms wrapped around yours as he took a well needed rest beside you.

had you asked for too much?

if you had, you would take everything else back. you only want your husband right here and now.

the only thing to greet you in the morning were missed calls and texts, miserably informing you of your husband's untimely passing.

that couldn't be it, hadn't you wished for his return? surely this was a sick prank they've all decided to pull on you.

you grabbed your phone and dialed the only man you wanted to hear answers from right now.

gojo picked up and greeted you reluctantly.

"where is he?" you whispered as sobs ripped through your mouth.

you weren't so delusional to think that nanami would be alive even after all those people telling you that he was gone, but you had to hope. you could hope just a little bit, couldn't you?

"he's.." gojo satoru could never forget that call. having to tell you, his dear friend's spouse, of his own death. how could he forget the way you cried and begged for him to take back everything he had said?

he could only imagine how painful it was for you.

but he could never truly understand the moment that everything you've hoped for all came crashing down on you.

how could you have been sleeping so soundly while your own husband had been fighting for his life?

how could you be so far away, not being able to even hear his final words?

how could he have slipped through your fingers in just the blink of an eye?

so many questions ran through your mind.

a month from then flew by you slowly. waking up felt heavy, as if the guilt of being alive ate at you from the inside.

it's november now. beside you were tickets that you felt you had no reason to use. what would it be for if the person you wanted to give it to could no longer enjoy the trip with you?

malaysia was waiting for kento, and he was so close to being there in person. malaysia was so close to seeing kento's smile as he danced around the beach side, and so were you.

[jaennwrites]

Stain Them. I Don't Care.

Hi guys it been a long time and although this isn't my comeback I just felt in the writing spirit. I will try my best to write stuff but the truth is y'all my attention span has been gone since TLOU (HBO) ended. However, I'm trading in fortnite videos (jonesyXreader coming soon ofc) for Peaky Blinders. I'm on S2 E2 so this little blurb doesn't have much show lore but I love Tommy, I'm a Cillian Murphy fangirl and I love a good dangerous man who gets soft and obsessed for their women. Anyways let me actually shut up.

Word Count: 1,410 Pairings: Tommy Shelby x Fem Reader (fairly gender neutral but reader is referred to as a wife), Established Relationship (married :3). Warnings: Blood, Mentions of Gun and shooting, Character (you) death. Completely SFW.

All interactions greatly appreciated, hope I can find the motivation to write more, thx guyzers <3

Tommy Shelby was an interesting man, it was even more interesting that he devoted himself to someone like you. It wasn’t an insulting thing, it’s just that many people didn’t understand Tommy’s obsession with this ordinary woman. The circumstances of your meeting was a kept secret of course but as everyone knew, you weren’t a whore, or spy, or other gang’s  daughter or wife, you were just you.

So when Tommy got off of his stressful often bloody days just to see you either sitting peacefully or cooking something, it made him happy. When people had the stupidity to question why Tommy was with you, he’d simply respond with his usual menacing stare. Sure, he didn’t run around town boasting about his wife but you knew he felt prideful when he was with you. Especially when he could bring you around people he considered enemies, you were his walking proof that he could attain and be acquainted with good people. 

The true ‘fuck you’ to those who didn’t know peace for Tommy Shelby had the embodiment of it right by his side always. 

Your head perked up at the sound of the front door smiling as you saw Tommy tiredly walk through the door. You often spent chunks of time waiting for him, more recently than ever before. Thomas Shelby by no means was an open man, but he always allowed himself to be vulnerable with you, he could never not when it came to you. 

Being around you felt like an adrenaline rush that never ended; from the day he first saw you to the day he asked you to marry him. Everything about you made him nervous and scared; he somehow couldn’t rest peacefully with you in his life yet his time with you was more peaceful than he had ever known. 

“You look wide awake” You joked resting your head on the back of the couch.

“Funny” He smiled, a smile that couldn’t fade as long as you were there smiling back at him. 

You rested your head on his shoulder and looked at his bruised hands before squeezing them tightly with a smile. Tommy no doubt carried a lot of baggage into the relationship. On an almost agonizing constant loop you could still vividly picture the first death at the hands of Tommy that you had witnessed. Although he’d never tell you, he remembered it too, the guilt ate him alive everyday. The way you looked at him that day made him physically sick. When you agreed to see him again after that, the look was gone but he’d never forget it. 

“How has everything been?” “Business wise” You asked. 

“It’s getting better” He reassured.

“So can I come with you tomorrow? To the Garrison”

“Would you not prefer to sit here? Safely” Tommy teased.

You rolled your eyes unseriously knowing that simple gesture alone would be enough to convince him. Tommy often had a problem saying no to you, it was chronic at this point. There were times he was a little more resistant but eventually he’d break, just for you. Partly because he trusted your judgment, and you never asked for anything insane. You two were in many ways polar opposites but the borderline paranoid danger/bullshit meter you shared were identical, he trusted you.

“Fine” “Didn’t know you loved my boring meetings” He joked

Your nights consisted of you two sitting sometimes doing some light drinking but for the most part you just enjoyed each other’s company. No matter what Tommy went through during his day, to be able to come home to you or come home with you was his cure all. It scared him to death how much he loved you, some nights it was all he could think of, the fear and happiness you produced. 

Then the morning would come and that feeling would be a distant memory because you’d still always be there. This morning was no different, he woke up right next to you, your sleeping face somehow even more beautiful than when you both fell asleep. Tommy was not a man who was very vocal about his affections but his eyes never lied. You could melt into a puddle whenever he looked at you, when he looked at you it was as if someone had captured love, melted it and injected it into your veins. 

That morning Tommy fulfilled his promise and you happily came along with him to his meeting, you didn’t want to admit that it was indeed boring but god you were bored. These weren’t his sly threat here, sly threat there meetings, just simple boring money managing. 

“This is boring” You whispered, eliciting a smile from your husband before excusing yourself into the main portion of the bar.

However the bar also bore you, a bunch of men drinking all of them too afraid to even glance in your direction. Tommy had planned to be done with this meeting by now but unfortunately it seemed to be taking longer and longer. He sat letting his mind wander a little as the time felt slower and slower while your eyes searched for something to keep you busy. 

Tommy had a big dislike for you walking alone and you understood dislike, however simply standing outside of the bar surely was a loophole. The smell of alcohol was weirdly insufferable today so without a second thought you headed for the front door, opening the one and then the second. 

You hadn’t noticed for the first few seconds, but the wet feeling rapidly spreading from your chest pulled you into the dark reality. You looked up at the gunman to see a face full of regret, from that look alone clearly you weren’t the target

Your husband was. 

The gunman had been young, clearly trigger happy but nevertheless a wonderful shot because by the time your body fell back you were gone. Tommy practically had leaped over the table at the sound. As he opened the door to his private room his eyes scanned the bar full of equally worried faces but had yet to see yours. 

The commotion coming from the front door prompted him to quickly check and confirm the nightmare he had been dreading since the day he first met you. The guttural shout he let out quieted the entire street, anyone moving stopped, anyone working stopped, the entire world seemed to stop. 

Tommy couldn’t remember the last time his hands shook at the sight of a dead body. His shaky hand intertwined with your lifeless one and his arm wrapped securely around your neck. He pulled your body close to his chest, the still fresh blood now soaking into his suit. Nobody around dared to move, hell not even breathe for it would only be a reminder that you couldn’t.

Thomas Shelby sat in that doorway for hours, whispering various pleas and prayers to Gods he didn’t even believe in. Soon enough his family convinced him to allow your body to be taken and for everything to be cleaned up. 

The wedding ring that was removed from your finger felt like it weighed pounds as it moved in his pocket. All that movement just to bring him to an even harsher reality as he stood in front of your shared home. He sat on the front steps for a while, it rained, drunk men passed, various things passed and he sat not daring to move a muscle. 

When Tommy finally made it into the house his heart felt as if it was attempting to break out of his chest. His eyes watered as he slowly shuffled over to your side of the bed falling to his knees beside it. Slowly his head descended before resting into blankets that filled his senses of nothing but you. The sheets smelled of you, the feeling of the blankets brought back every lovely memory of you. 

Thomas Shelby couldn’t remember the last time he cried, like really truly cried. Quite frankly he couldn’t remember anything in this state. A place that once was home to your laughter and voice was now full of the muffled sobs of your husband. 

Tommy’s hands held his blood soaked chest wishing that he had covered himself in your blood. He prayed it would stain every item of clothing he owned, stain his hands, his face so that he could never be without you. 

"I fear to stain your clothes with blood" "Stain them, I don't care"

[doing-something-unholy]

Father Adrian, there's something I've wanted to admit for a long time, but I've never dared to say it out loud.

Please forgive me for all the unholy words that will come out of my disgusting mind, but they must. I was raised Catholic, I pray as often as I can, I cherish our Lord and Saviour and I do everything I can to help our Church, I promise you, Father.

But the thing is, for the last few months I've been having terrible, unholy thoughts. I prayed even more, I did everything I could to be devoted to God, but nothing works. I am so ashamed, Father Adrian, I really am. I confess a lot, but this secret has never come out of my mouth before...

I've been... well... I've been thinking about other men, Father. The way they look... the way they talk... I've even found myself staring at men's waists and getting excited.

Oh, Father, I'm so sorry, God, I'm so sorry. I'm new to this town, I moved from my hometown hoping that all these thoughts would go away, but... they've gotten worse. Since I've been here, I've appreciated this church, I've talked to the other citizens about what I can do to help this church, and yet these thoughts won't go away.

If I'm honest with you Father, those thoughts came back because of you... I can't say more Father, I'm sorry. All I could do was write this letter to you. I haven't even dared to go to the confessional to say it, Father. I will continue to pray, to come to this church, but I can't even dare to look you in the eye after my thoughts, Father... I haven't even spoken to you yet.

As I write this, I can feel my hands shaking. I can't get your dark red hair out of my mind. Please don't be too ashamed of me, I know I'm a bad Christian, but I can't help it. The thought of someone underneath me, a man underneath me, consumes me from the inside.

Father Adrian. I hope God will be with me. With this letter you will find money for this church. Maybe one day I will go to the confessional, but the thought is too much. I will go to Mass, tomorrow, praying for myself, for you, for this world.

C. 🦇

[I received the letter a while ago, but it still makes me blush to think of it. His (I'm assuming 'his', given the phrase "other men") unholy thoughts have so easily jumped to me, some part of me hoping to be that man underneath him. But the way he writes... my heart aches in sympathy with his shame. I remember when that same kind of guilt nearly ate me alive, and even if it's lessened now I still feel that old fear of being inherently broken haunting me. And by the sound of it, it's definitely haunting him.

I know what I'm supposed to tell people in this situation, steer them to "normal" attractions, but I can't make myself do it. God made us as we are, and loves us unconditionally, the sin of lust is in letting it spiral out of control, not necessarily in who its directed at. Or so I tell myself, I know all too well how hate sticks in your subconscious. I try not to care what anyone else thinks. If only he'd come to confess in person I could have told him that, tried to ease some of the guilt in his heart.

I wonder, as I look at the crowd at Mass, which one of them left the letter. I tell myself it's only out of concern for unconfessed sins weighing on some poor sinner’s soul, but I can't help but be curious who was looking at me so intently that it drove them to sin.]

[localcanadiancreature62]

@aria-greenhoodie I hope you're proud of yourself /silly. I made this after you showed me the Anti Cipherites page loll.

O'Pimm's epilogue - Out of the Anti Cipherites,only this guy would be believed. Because he's in the church for fuck's sake.

All of the people there believe in demons and what is Bill?,an evil demon triangle.

He didn't get thrown out of the church for being a crazy lunatic,no no. He got promoted to head priest and was deadass congratulated for spreading word of such a terrible beast as William Lucipher after he told all of his fellows about his traumatizing experiences with the creature. The Western Holy Church made him head priest,the head bishop personally gave him a fancy bedroom within the church so he wouldn't have to stay in his shitty hut building all the time and a bag full of gold coins to freely spend and a lifetime supply of the finest caviar to eat instead of surviving off of beer and moldy crackers,and he was no longer thought as the holy man who wasted away in bars rather than practicing his faith.

He was revered a luminary among the church after word spread about him speaking about William Lucipher,and best thing yet is that this actually helped him in his chase for Bill as more people flocked to him after hearing the tale of him surviving such a demon. One of the bishops tried to help him exorcise Bill by luring the triangle into the priest's body by pretending to offer a deal to him and then reciting latin in order to purge the demon out of him for good but with Bill not ACTUALLY being a demon and being instead some form of overpowered cosmic god like entity,the plan fails and Bill ends up using O'Pimm's body to kill the bishop by stabbing him with the priest's hands.

This horrified O'Pimm and he quickly tried to hide the body as he panicked,not wanting to return to his life as a deadbeat and broke drunkard as he knew everything he just gained would crumble if anyone saw this. He successfully buried the body in a cemetery just south of the Church,removing all traces of the bishop's death by cleaning the Church spotless and washing his hands clean of the blood he just spilled. No one noticed a thing. However,the thought of such a holy man as himself committing murder ate up at him and he felt ashamed of himself for letting his body be used by that beast when he should've protected it like a temple.

He lived with that guilt for years,as he devoted his entire life to figuring out a way to destroy William Lucipher once and for all. He didn't associate with his fellows the Anti Cipherites anymore in order to focus on his mission. However,he did occasionally visit Thurbert in order to try to gouge him for tips on how to destroy the creature,with every tip being another roadblock. O'Pimm then connected with an engineer deacon from the inside of the Church in order to find more mechanical ways of erasing the demon,since his fellow Anti Cipherite Abigale isn't available for the job.

The deacon came up with a way to destroy the demon,by making an electric gun that'll numb the brain with it's volts and thus stop it from producing any thought as well as close all doors to memories from the inside,trapping the triangle within the subject's mind with the electric volts that are strong enough to kill a horse (early prototype of the memory gun...),the deacon dubbed the weapon to be the Anti Bill Shooter and O'Pimm liked that idea so the engineer went over to build the gadget as he finished in a week's time.

The Anti Bill shooter was then used on O'Pimm,blasting him with the volts of the weapon after Bill had entered his mind once more to plague him with nightmares to torment him for fun. It didn't work the first time,so he got blasted again. And again,and again,and again,and again.

The Anti Bill Shooter didn't get rid of the creature as he was still alive as evidenced by him escaping the man's body soon after his brain got too fried for him to manipulate,it rather caused the man's psyche to break as he became paralyzed by his brain no longer being able to control his extremities from it being too damaged by the weapon while also not being able to speak as the only phrase he can utter is "William Lucipher",he then got institutionalized in the same place Waxstaff was held in after the deacon saw him in this state (mcgucket's predecessor~).

[creepswrites]

MASK OF HATE | CH. 3 (Michael x Reader)

it feels so good to be writing this guy again god... i've rly pulled from my own Michael headcanons for this one so i hope you enjoy! :D

Michael Myers x trans!Reader (he/him)

Summary: "Stop me if it gets to be too much, okay?" You dabbled the brush in the dark red eyeshadow. It would hopefully hide his scars as well. You weren't even sure how familiar people were with his actual face. You wondered if people knew what Michael Myers, the man, looked like. Or if they just saw the white, pale face of the Boogeyman when they closed their eyes.

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Halloween in Haddonfield was always a high-strung time.

Ever since the Halloween killings a few years ago, the town had since taken a hesitant approach to the holiday. Parents went out with their kids or simply stayed home with them. If phones went down or power went out, teens were told to cross the street and get help. But people would still dress up, still go looking for candy, and still sneak out to make out with their respective partners.

But Halloween had come and gone without much issue for you. Of course, Michael had been busy that night. You'd stayed up late into the night to wait up for him, watching horror movies with some candy and popcorn until you heard your back door open and heavy footfalls approaching. He didn't have many injuries - he rarely did anymore - but he was still soaked in blood.

With the holiday over, you wondered what Michael would do next. You lay in bed and stared up at your ceiling for the first few days after Halloween stewing in your worries. Would he leave? Go back to the institution? What was he going to do? Surely he couldn't keep killing, right? There'd be no people left in Haddonfield eventually.

But he didn't do any of those things. Instead, he'd sit on your couch and watch television - intrigued by the nature documentaries and cartoons the most - and follow you around the house when you were home. And if you were out at work or shopping, he'd stalk you from a distance. It became the new normal.

Months passed. Fall colors began to fade to browns and whites as November came. You still left out food for Mayhem in hopes he'd come home but you were beginning to lose hope. All you could do was pray that he didn't suffer before he died or that he wasn't eaten by some other animal. Michael would watch you from the doorway, dressed in a sweater and plaid pj bottoms you'd gotten for him as you sat on the steps of your back door, hoping your kitty would come home. It must've been silly to him but he never stopped you.

He didn't kill. At least, not that you knew of. You tried to avoid the news for the most part and with your dad gone, you didn't have much inside information anymore.

The guilt hadn't really set in yet either. You missed him, of course, but he'd never been very present. The death of your mom had hit him hard and you always felt like he'd never properly forgiven you for it. How a man could resent his son for something he didn't do was ridiculous to you. You missed the idea of your dad more than who he actually was.

But you made Thanksgiving. Michael was familiar with the concept though it had been a long time since he'd participated. So, you went all out. Turkey, mashed potatoes, corn, green bean casserole, gravy, the whole nine yards. The two of you ate together on your couch and watched Charlie Brown episodes since those had become Michael's favorite to watch. You both ate your weight in food and fell asleep on opposite ends of the couch. You'd never seen him sleep before and you were momentarily taken aback by how peaceful he looked.

It was nice.

One afternoon when you got back from work, you saw Michael masked up and standing outside your front door, holding something wrapped up in his arms. When you'd gotten closer, fearing the worst, you nearly wept with joy to see Mayhem bundled up in a towel. Cold and shaking and most certainly sick but alive. You'd gone to the vet's office a shaking, sobbing mess, just happy to have your kitty back.

Mayhem had to have surgery for his infected wounds and would be on antibiotics for awhile. But he was home and thats all that mattered to you. You'd thanked Michael profusely and brought home pumpkin pies for weeks after, even with the fall pumpkin flavors out of style. They were definitely his favorite. He liked most sweet things, honestly. You were surprised how much of a sweet tooth he had.

November browns turned to December blues as snow and frost started making appearances. The first day it snowed, you'd bundled yourself and Michael up and gone outside to see the falling snow. He wore the mask much less now, leaving the thing on the kitchen table more often than not, so you got to put a cute wool hat on him and drag him outside with your mitten-clad hand clasping his. "Come see, come see!"

Michael had looked up when he noticed the snowflakes falling. Just a light flurry. He watched as you stuck your tongue out and caught snowflakes on your tongue and gave you a strange look. "Try," you nudged him gently. "It's fun, I promise."

He'd done it but only to make you happy.

And still, he hadn't killed yet. You wondered if it was just a Halloween thing. If he was a normal person throughout the rest of the year. Obviously you'd never pushed about what happened with his sister - you liked living - but you wondered if the killings were a result of the trauma. Trauma that the great Dr. Loomis neglected to acknowledge. Because it was far easier to pretend Michael didn't feel anything. That he held no remorse for what he did. Yet the doctor didn't put together that Michael went from a totally normal boy to suddenly nonspeaking and monotonous after killing her.

It had affected him, even if the doctor nor Michael himself wanted to acknowledge that.

Life continued on. Mayhem made a full recovery and spent his days lounging in the winter sun. You would cut Michael's hair to keep it from growing out of control and he helped you shovel snow from the driveway. You noticed that he liked working with his hands and seemed to enjoy drawing on loose paper around the house, so you got him paints and canvases and cleaned out your dad's old room to let him have an art studio. The two of you lay down old newspapers and he'd disappear for hours up there to paint.

Michael didn't show the paintings to you. Not often anyways. That wasn't really the point anyways. But there were a few times when he'd leave a dried canvas outside your bedroom door or on your bed. Your favorite so far had been a blur of pale blues and whites of a winter sky, your own profile looking up at the sky. The way Michael painted was streaky, like his hands shook when he painted. Lines were messy and colors bled together, but you recognized yourself in his art.

It was interesting, seeing yourself through someone else's eyes - much less his - translated to art. You kept the painting in your room and you'd trace your fingers along the dry paint, tracing his lines. And you wondered - fleetingly and with bright red cheeks - if you looked beautiful in his eyes.

You liked to think that you did.

It was around the middle of December as you attempted to get ready for a holiday party. Attempted being the key word. "Michael," you sighed, adjusting your elf hat. "I told you, I'll be back later tonight. I've left dinner in the fridge and I promise I'll call when I'm coming home."

Michael glared at you. He had a habit of being a brat and you found it equally annoying as you did endearing. He'd put the mask on after he learnt you were leaving but that was pretty normal. Whenever you weren't around, he'd wear it. But he'd also wear it when he was just generally stressed out or upset. He'd become significantly more comfortable not wearing it around the house over the few months you'd been living together.

You wondered, briefly, if he ever slept. You hadn't seen him do so since Thanksgiving and it momentarily worried you.

"If you're so upset, why not just come with?" You snorted to yourself. "I can do your makeup, dress you in a cute sweater. Could be fun." You joked.

You focused on doing your own makeup: dark green eyeshadow and red lips. Makeup wasn't your preference but it suited your elf costume. A simple green tunic with red and white striped knee-high socks. The hat and boots you wore were matching greens and you'd heavily blushed your face, drawing little snowflakes in white liquid eyeliner. It was cute.

You heard heavy footsteps approach you until you felt Michael standing directly behind you. "Wait, are you-?" You spun around to stare up at him. "Are you serious?"

A blank stare. He put a hand around your neck and you noted his tense shoulders. A few months ago, this gesture would have terrified you. Now, you knew that it was just his way of expression. A knife and a violent hand was all he could use to convey things to you. So you didn't panic at all.

"I'm not making fun!" You insisted, lifting a hand to push lightly at his chest. "I just can't tell if you're actually interested in going. You know there'll be people there, right?" Silence. "People you can't kill." More silence. "I'm not kidding either. You can't kill or hurt anyone if you come with me." It had been a long time, sure, but you could never be totally sure what Michael's motives may be.

Michael just let go and took a step back. You gave him a look. It was hard to tell what went on in his head a lot of the time. You'd certainly gotten better at reading him but Michael could still be unpredictable. So, watching him turn on his heel and stalk towards the dresser made you pause.

He fished out a black t-shirt and matching black jeans - clothes you'd gotten him for when he needed to change out of that jumpsuit - and turned to face you. You blinked once. Twice. "You seriously want to go with me to a Christmas party? Dressed up? Without your mask on?"

And Michael nodded once.

That was significant. You could count on two hands the amount of times Michael nodded or shook his head at you. So for him to be this certain about it...

"Alright then, c'mere big guy." You gave him a soft smile and motioned for him to sit on the bed.

As he took the mask off - hands shaking and hesitant - you started leafing around in your vanity drawers as you heard him change. A soft, colored contact lens would help disguise the injured eye. It was a jade green, yeah, but it was better than nothing. Heterochromia was uncommon, not unheard of.

You set the small package aside and looked through makeup options. You found some red eyeshadow you could do around his eyes and on his nose, some blush, and your white liquid eyeliner for details. You collected all your goodies and turned to face Michael on the bed.

Your smile fell when you saw him dressed in the black clothes but still gripping the latex mask tightly, his knuckles whitening as he hung his head and stared into it's face. He looked almost out of place on your bed, amongst the pale blue sheets and stuffed animals.

"You don't have to go." You reassured softly. Slowly, he looked up at you. "I know this isn't something you normally do but," Michael blinked slowly as you continued rambling. "I don't want you to feel like I'm making you go with me. You can stay and I'll be back soon and I- I can bring back pie or something. Don't feel pressured."

Michael stared at you for a long time, fingernails digging into the latex of his mask. The last thing you needed was Michael snapping and killing people at the party. You'd both be in trouble for that.

But you also wondered if he was unfamiliar with being given choices. You'd never forced Michael into anything he didn't want to do and you had a feeling that wasn't typical for him.

He slowly, ever so slowly, unclenched his fingers and let the mask fall to the floor. The two of you stared at it for a long time as he blinked at it. You could tell by the clenching in his jaw that he was certainly fighting something off.

You wanted to make it easier for him.

So you sat down gently on the bed beside him and reached for his face. His flinch was the most emotion you'd ever seen from him and it made your heart clench. "It's just me," you said softly, opening the container with the contact lens inside. "'m not gonna hurt you."

Michael just glared slightly at you. You giggled softly and opened the contact lens case up. You'd have to cover up his injured eye, at the very least. "Alright, have you ever put contacts in?" You asked, looking up at him.

You saw something pass over his face quickly, barely there, before his face schooled itself once again. He shook his head once. This was going to be tricky. It took some time to get the contact in his eye. Neither of you really knew what you were doing. Michael had never put contacts in and you were scared it'd roll back to his brain. But, through your combined efforts, it now sat comfortably in his eye. Pretty blue-and-green heterochromatic eyes. Even with the scarring, he looked... normal.

"Should I even ask if you've ever worn makeup?" You asked teasingly. You knew he hadn't. Probably. But you were curious how new this all was for him. "I'll be brushing your face and around your eyes. Is that okay?"

Michael blinked slowly, which you took for a yes.

"Stop me if it gets to be too much, okay?" You dabbled the brush in the dark red eyeshadow. It would hopefully hide his scars as well. You weren't even sure how familiar people were with his actual face. You wondered if people knew what Michael Myers, the man, looked like. Or if they just saw the white, pale face of the Boogeyman when they closed their eyes.

Your heart clenched a little as Michael shut his eyes, a hand reaching out to clench your hip tightly. He hated feeling vulnerable. You were only an exception to his 'no-touching-me' thing because you'd proven your loyalty. In exchange, he gave you his protection. But he still disliked giving over control and holding you was the best he could do to abate his worries.

He trusted you, despite himself. The thought made you smile to yourself as you brushed red powder around his eyes. Neither of you had planned on caring about each other so much but here you were.

You hummed to yourself as you worked - some pop song you'd heard while grocery shopping a few days ago that still haunted you - and you felt Michael's grip on you slowly relax. "So, a few of my friends will be there," you said softly, brushing around his eyes in a sort-of raccoon style. It obscured a lot of the scarring, thankfully. You took out some black eyeshadow to highlight around his eyes and make them look sunken in. It made him look just a tad intimidating, black soot that petered out to a dark red. "They might try and talk to you but I'll try and take over. If they ask, I'll tell them you're mute and they won't expect you to speak. Okay?"

Michael gave your hip a squeeze for affirmation.

"What do you want me to call you? I mean, I could just call you Michael but I'm worried it'll look suspicious." You hummed while you dusted red on his nose to resemble Rudolph. "Though I guess no one's worrying about the Boogeyman on Christmas." You teased playfully.

He opened his eyes and gave you a slow blink. It was strange, seeing him look this normal. Soft brown curls still messy from the mask, half-lidded eyes as he stared at you, and a defined jawline. Michael was objectively very pretty. He had good skin and pretty eyes, especially with the eyeshadow, and-

You cleared your throat and reached for the blush. "This might feel a bit rougher than the other brush but it's alright, I promise. Close your eyes again?" He shut his eyes again and you brushed a heavy blush on his cheeks. Before he could open his eyes again, you'd grabbed the liquid eyeliner and held under his chin as you began drawing freckles on the warm pink. Little, simplistic snowflakes around his eyes and white dots that faded out towards his nose. That way you two could match!

You smiled to yourself as you worked and it wasn't until you capped your eyeliner that you realized he'd been staring at you.

There were a few times in the time of you knowing Michael that you wondered if he could read minds. If, in order to be the scariest possible thing to a person, he had to know exactly what scared someone. Of course, you knew that was ridiculous. This wasn't a Stephen King novel. But still. It felt like he knew what you were thinking a lot of the time.

You straightened up and gave him a soft smile as you dropped your hand. It was almost hysterical to you - seeing the Haddonfield Boogeyman dressed up like Rudolph - but you restrained yourself from laughing. So you just stood quickly and went to grab some little horns off your vanity. They were simple, just a brown headband with some simple horns tangled in pretend lights, but they were undeniably cute.

Michael seemed to squint at them before looking at you. "Trust me, they'll look super cute on you." He seemed to relent himself to his fate and let you put the horns on him. Gently, you fluffed his hair so that you couldn't see the headband as easy. Stepping back, you looked him over.

Michael fucking Myers, dressed up as a reindeer. Cute little nose, horns, and all.

"I could just call you Mike," you hummed, tilting your head at him. "That'd be less suspicious." He glared at you and you smiled with a faux-innocence. "What? Don't like it?" Michael glared harder and you laughed. "Alright, alright, I guess Michael isn't that suspicious. Hopefully they won't ask for your last name." You shrugged.

Michael surveyed you silently, tilting his head the way he always did. Inspecting. But, more accurately, looking at something he found fascinating. It was how he looked at his victims sometimes. How he looked at you.

"Well Mikey," you said as you went to grab your bag of belongings, dismissing that train of thought. Technically, your bag was a purse but you didn't think of it like that. "Shall we?"

He just stared at you. He hadn't killed you for the nickname so you assumed it was fine. It wasn't like Michael would tolerate things he disliked, after all.

How Chrissy had managed to get this party together was beyond you. She was a girl you'd known in high school and had kept somewhat in touch with since you'd both graduated. She'd been a year above you and had been dating the quarterback of the football team, or something like that. Popular, well-liked, and clearly still trying to ride the high off of that despite graduating out of high school cliques.

The house was decorated to the nines in lights with little reindeers made of lights sat grazing outside. Soft snow decorated the front of the house and highlighted the pretty rainbow lights all around the exterior. They ran all along the roof and even down the porch where you and Michael stood. You'd rung the doorbell and were waiting for Chrissy to answer.

When she did, smiling widely and dressed in an inappropriate Mrs Claus outfit, she surveyed you and Michael. "And who is this handsome guy? Bitch, I thought I told you to tell me if you knew any cute guys." She teased, letting you both come in and take your coats off. There was already a good amount of people in the large suburban home, most drinking spiked apple cider and Christmas cookies.

Michael held your bicep once he was free of his coat. "Sorry Chrissy, he's, uh," you bit the inside of your cheek, trying to come up with a cover story. You panicked when she gave you an expecting look. "He's my boyfriend." You blurted out quickly.

Well, that worked.

Chrissy pouted exaggeratedly. "Damn. Well, anyways, mingle! Have fun! We're doing the Secret Santa thing later- Oh! Did you bring your-?" You held up the red and green gift bag and Chrissy beamed, happily taking it from you. "Perfect, alright, you're free to go!"

You led the way, Michael still holding your arm, and went to the kitchen. It was strange, leading the Haddonfield Boogeyman through a Christmas party. Usually, you were able to dismiss the fact he killed people from your mind. It had gotten easier since he hadn't killed anyone in nearly two months, but you didn't play ignorant for his sake.

The kitchen was clean, white, and pristine. Chrissy's parents had a maid who cleaned everything so their house always looked more like an interior design catalogue rather than a home. You swiped a candy cane sugar cookie and gestured for Michael to grab one.

He just stared at you, eyes widened ever-so-slightly. "What?" You asked. His head tilted to the side and you felt your face heat up. "Oh, sorry... It was the best I could think to say in the moment. Are you... okay with that?"

Michael stared at you, eyes calculating. You almost began spouting apologies again before he took a cookie - frosted to look like a snowman - and bit into it, never breaking eye contact. You weren't sure if that was approval or disapproval so you both just stood there. Staring awkwardly at each other and eating sugar cookies.

When he finished his, he seemed to straighten up. Stepping forward, he gently brushed his lips to your forehead. Not a kiss - he wasn't exactly skilled in that area - but the intent was there and the message was clear. Your face lit up and you nodded when he pulled back. You could've sworn his eyes softened. "Cool. Cool, okay." You said softly.

Standing on your tiptoes, you pressed a soft, chaste kiss to his cheek - leaving a faint lipstick stain - and grabbed another cookie with a glass of the cider. You passed him the cookie and motioned for him to follow you into the crowd as you suppressed a giddy smile.

The party went smoothly, all things considered. Of course, everyone you talked to wanted to meet your new boyfriend. "It's a recent development," you'd say. If anyone asked him questions, he'd bite into the cookie and you'd answer for him. He was a mechanic you'd met when he worked on your car. He liked painting and was sweet with your cat. And you'd been dating for a month and a half now.

Michael would occasionally hold your wrist as you two walked around. It felt normal. Painfully so. As if you and Michael were just two normal young adults at a Christmas party. As if you weren't harboring Haddonfield's own serial killer. It felt sweet - feeling Michael hold onto you as you led him around. You'd hold his arm sometimes when you talked, pleasantly buzzed from the cider and enjoying the warm Christmas atmosphere with your boyfriend.

Perhaps it had come too easily to you to call him that.

When Chrissy's parents came home with some of their own friends, you hadn't thought much of it. Until the sinking, chilling remembrance that Chrissy's dad - John Kallas - was a police officer. A friend of your dads. Who had been part of the force looking for Michael around Halloween time.

You clutched his arm as one of your friends talked to you, not really listening to them and instead focused on keeping Michael out of sight of Officer Kallas.

But the older folk seemed to retreat to one of the sitting rooms, barely sparing the partygoers a glance. You let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding.

The Secret Santa went without a hitch. You sat next to Michael on the couch and curled at his side. He'd seemed surprised at the gesture and slowly put his arm around you, making you blush sweetly. You'd gotten a new book on plants and growing vegetables ("Oh, you think I should grow tomatoes?" You'd looked at Chrissy. "Well, if you insist!" She'd laughed.) and you leafed through it, skimming the words as you sat against your boyfriend's side.

When it finally came time to leave, you chatted with Chrissy in the doorway as you and Michael shrugged your coats on. As you went to step out the door, Officer Kallas was making his way to the kitchen and you saw his stumble out of the corner of his eye, watching you and Michael leave.

You took his arm tightly and walked briskly to the car, not wanting to give the officer the chance to come see if he'd really seen The Boogeyman as your date to his daughter's party.

Christmas came and went. You'd gotten Michael new paints and a sketchbook with some charcoals and the two of you ate pie and roast chicken and cookies you'd made after Michael's insistence. Apparently the ones at Chrissy's party had swayed him. At least he'd helped you make them. His frosting skills left much to be desired but he had fun painting them and adding sprinkles.

At one point, you must've gotten frosting on your cheek. Slowly, he'd reached over and brushed the offending icing from your face and he licked it off his thumb absentmindedly. As though it were a perfectly normal thing to do.

You froze, staring at him with wide eyes. Neither of you had really brought up the party - or your relationship. At one point while frosting, you'd decided to see something and stood up under the guise of getting more icing. You paused, brushing curls back from his forehead as you tilted his head back, and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.

He blinked up at you slowly. Like a cat did to show it trusted you.

As you made your way to the kitchen - trying and failing to stifle your smile - you felt his eyes on you all the way.

But it was New Years when things really changed.

You and Michael had the television on with the channel turned to watch the ball drop. It wasn't typically a tradition you cared about but you could tell your housemate was intrigued. He'd been upstairs painting for most of the day while you cleaned the house up a bit. It was still too snowy out to be gardening. You looked forward to spring and being able to set up your garden again.

Once the sun set, you made hot chocolate and ordered pizza. Michael preferred just plain cheese but you'd gotten yours with olives - something Michael always gave you looks for.

It was cute. He had a lot of personality once you knew where to look. And he'd clearly gotten very comfortable with you during the time you'd been living together.

The two of you had been sitting on the couch. 11:59PM. One more minute until the new year. "It's not the most exciting thing in the world," you said from your spot beside Michael, "but it's cute. It's nice to see everyone get together over something like this."

Michael had just stared at the television with a slight tilt to his head.

10...

You felt your throat tighten as a thought came to your head. Chrissy's words came back to you as you recalled her talking about her favorite New Years tradition.

9...

"Hey, Michael?" Your voice was soft. You'd barely even realized you'd spoken until you felt his eyes on you.

8...

Swallowing was a challenge for you. "There's, um, a kind of New Years tradition. That, um, means-"

7...

"-you'll have good luck for the rest of the year."

6...

"Want to do it?"

Michael just stared blankly at you. His eyes darted between your two eyes, calculating.

5...

He gave you a single nod. You quickly darted your tongue out to wet your lips.

4...

"Trust me," you said more than asked.

3...

He just stared at you as you moved your hand up slowly, touching his face with your fingertips. It felt like the sound of your heart pounding was audible, even over the sounds of the tv.

2...

Michael's eyes widened ever so slightly.

1...

You leaned forward and kissed him. The sounds of cheering could be heard but it sounded like it was underwater. All your senses were fixated on the man in front of you. He felt tense under your touch, even as you slid your hand to better cup his face.

But then you felt him lean into the kiss and you felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest.

Michael didn't exactly have a lot of experience with kissing but he was clearly trying. You scooted closer and he put his hands on your hips, lifting you into his lap without breaking the kiss.

You sat in his lap as you kissed, parting occasionally to breath but you only felt yourself choke when Michael would stare up at you with half-lidded, glassy eyes.

He was pretty, you admitted to yourself freely before leaning back down to kiss him again. Slowly, you ran your hands through his curly hair as you kissed.

Things changed on New Years but you certainly weren't complaining.

The snow had finally begun clearing up and you could go outside again with relative ease. Rain and sleet was more preferable to snow for you, since it made walks in the forest more enjoyable.

You and Michael were dating. Or, at least, the closest he was comfortable with in regards to dating. You kissed sometimes, he'd stand at the foot of your bed when you slept, and he let you touch him more. Slow but steady progress.

He seemed to genuinely like you and trust you.

One day, you'd needed to go shopping to grab some things. "Michael?" You called out as you fastened your shoes, "I'll be back around 5:30, alright?"

Ever since the party, he'd gotten better about you leaving the house for short periods of time so long as he knew when you'd be coming back. Because if you didn't, he'd hunt for you. You didn't doubt that.

Michael appeared in the doorway of the kitchen a few feet away from you, staring at you. You shot him a smile and grabbed your bag. "See you soon!" And off you went.

Looking back on it, you wished you had stayed home.

At the grocery store, you had been examining a box of cereal when someone approached you. Chrissy. Her smile looked tight, forced. "Hey," she said sweetly. "How've you been?"

"Good," you said, looking concerned. "Are you okay-?"

"How's your boyfriend. What was his name, uh, Michael?" She looked like she'd be sick and you felt a jolt of white-hot adrenaline rush through you. A quick glance over your shoulder confirmed the worst. Her dad was standing at the end of the aisle dressed in his uniform with his partner beside him. And they were watching you.

"He's traveling. Went to see family." You tried to keep your voice neutral.

Chrissy pouted. "Someone die?" Her faux sympathy got worse. "Maybe his sister?"

She knew. You don't know how she found out, but she knew. You don't know why they took so long to do something about it but you felt compelled to run.

Times like this you wished you had a way to get ahold of Michael.

You tightened your grip on your bag and narrowed your eyes, hoping you could maintain your lie. "No. His dad is sick."

Chrissy clearly didn't believe you. But she didn't stop you as you put the cereal box in your cart and walked away. You could hear footsteps picking up the pace behind you and you picked up speed.

When Officer Kallas called your name, you turned on your heels and shoved the metal cart forward, driving it into his stomach. You took the opportunity to bolt out the door as you heard him call for backup on his walkie talkie.

His partner was still hot on your heels as you ran towards your car. All you had to do was get inside and you could get away. Go to a phone booth or something and call Michael. Tell him to get Mayhem and get out and you'd come get him. Something. Anything.

But you'd never get the chance. Because the officer grabbed you around your middle and lifted you. "Put me down!" You shrieked.

"You're being taken into police custody for suspicion of harboring a criminal. Come with me." He dragged you towards a police car where Officer Kallas was standing.

They overpowered you, shoving you into the backseat and slamming the door, locking you in. Tears fell down your face as you panicked. He wouldn't know they were coming. They'd catch him and then what? Would they kill him? Shoot to kill?

You felt like throwing up. All you could do was curl up in the seat and sob.

The only thought on your mind was that you hoped he'd be okay.

Dr. Samuel Loomis considered himself a brilliant man.

He'd been on Michael Myers' case since the child first arrived at Smith's Grove and he liked to think he knew Michael better than anyone. He'd studied the boy, subjected him to various medications, attempted to trigger anything out out of the man.

Years went by and there had been no response. So there had been talk of releasing Michael with parol. Dr. Loomis had done everything he could to prevent that from happening.

Then Halloween had come and Michael had escaped. And, yet again, he had escaped.

"Doctor?" Officer Kallas's voice broke the psychologist from his stupor. He'd been staring out the window of his office again, lost in thought.

"Come in." He turned, looking over his shoulder and freezing.

There you were. In handcuffs with tear tracks on your face. "We apprehended them like you asked. We'll head to their house to retrieve-"

"Don't," Loomis held up a hand. "No. We've got all we need right here." He approached you slowly, like you were something to behold. You felt gross under his stare. "Michael will come looking for them. Then we'll catch him. We can't give him any advantages."

Officer Kallas nodded and you bit your tongue to prevent any objections from spilling past your lips. You didn't want to give the doctor any more information than you had to.

The officers left you alone with him and he sat at his desk. "Tell me," he hummed, "what was being held captive by Michael like?" You looked at him, brow furrowed. He seemed to misinterpret your confusion. "I know you were held by him for quite some time. Your friend Chrissy told her father about it. You were-"

"I wasn't prisoner." You spat, almost offended.

"So you were simply afraid." The doctor clicked his pen, beginning to write something.

You glared at him. "What is this, an interrogation?"

Dr. Loomis lifted his head. "I've studied Michael for sixteen years," he said, "and I've never seen him so fascinated by another human being."

"Maybe you're just shitty at your job." You scoffed.

Were you not glaring daggers at the man, you would've missed the angry look you received back. "Perhaps." The doctor said. "But in good time, my theories will be proven." He stood from his desk, approaching the door and grabbing your arm. "Michael will come for you. And when he does, I'll finally rid the world of that potent evil."

You wish you'd stayed home.

[narrators-journal]

Hiiii my first ask won't be an oc ask lmao

Gimme pred prey shokami pwease

Woo! The first suggestion of kinktober! I’m still not sold on a theme for this year, but also don’t be surprised if I lean into the monsters. Just to continue to shake it up. That being said! This was such a fun little shake up! I don’t write much sho content, so he’s kinda eh, but I hope the tale is fun at a minimum!

Btw, if you sent in an ask that is not this one, Tumblr legit ate the shit, so please resend it if it was for kinktober. And! If you’d like to participate in this little game, feel free to send in an ask! I’ll link the prompt list to pull from below :D

Kinktober prompt list: Here

Kinktober masterlist: Here

CW: Teratophilia, dubcon vibes, biting, predato/prey (also called primal play, I learned), breaking and entering, sadomasochism, more heavily on masochism. More Kinks will be added if needbe.

In a world of vampires and werewolves, the medical advancements of the world were impressive. Since, when a patient is almost entirely immortal beyond a specific condition, you can test quite a few drugs and techniques, or use someone as a renewable source of human organs.

Which, was universally acknowledged as an amoral use of a humanoid being, but the courts were slow to outlaw the practice. Just like they were slow to outlaw the creation of a patched together man brought to life by lightning and the urge to spite god.

Hence why Sho Minazuki was alive to pace his secluded cabin home like a caged tiger.

DoN’t Go OuTsIdE, MiNaZuKi. The patched-together man grumpily thought as he left the bathroom to wander thoughtlessly into the small kitchen to admire the gallons of not-apple sauces and left over mushy stew in his fridge for the fifth time that night, It’S nOt SaFe UnTiL yOuR hAnD iS fUlLy AtTaChEd. As if sewing it on isn’t enough.Before he shut the door back and shuffled into the small living room to flop onto the couch to watch the only other piece of furniture in the room. The television.

I mean, I can use it, so why can’t I go out? It’s not gonna fly off or something. He continued to fume, the tv honestly paid little attention compared to the monster’s mental monologue. Just say that you don’t want me to have fucking friends, Ikutsuki. Fuck. At least then I can plot your murder without fucking guilt or some other icky feeling-

THUD. Something heavy hit the floor in the bedroom. There was no doubt about that, Sho knew the sounds of bodies hitting the floor of his secluded cabin, how was he supposed to get new organs without that step of the process? But there’s nobody to be slamming around. The dude I got my new hand from is in the basement freezer, that noise came from the BACK of the house. He mused, though the thought didn’t keep the cherry-haired monster on the couch. Because, that means it’s someone alive. Someone I can TALK to, fuck yeah! So, he quickly headed for the bedroom at the back of the house.

“Hello?” He called down the dark hallway that led to the room, but, no reply was given, naturally. So, Sho moved down the hall and used his good hand to open the door to peek in. Before, just throwing the door open to confront and greet the oddball he saw. “Who the hell are you?” He asked, more confused by the sight of the blood on the stranger. His head tilted as his hazy blue eyes scanned over the man who’d just crawled through his window with far more attention than a quick peek granted. So, he was able to notice the man’s tall stature, soon followed by the dark patches of red that had first caught his eye, and how the color had run down his neck and seeped into his plain t-shirt’s collar. Next, was his grey bowl-cut-styled hair. And, finally, the biggest tell of the man’s living status. A pair of stone-grey eyes that were wide, but didn’t seem to catch the moonlight at all.

Whoever the man was, he was definitely a vampire, and a hungry one at that. Obviously hungry enough to break into a home for a meal, rather than find a grocery store that offered ethically obtained blood, too. Alright, so...He’s obviously too out of it for conversation. Either starving, or he’s after something...else. Neither of which is a good thing. Hm. The red-haired monster mused in the heavy silence of the intruder’s lack of an answer. I could probably fight him and win, but I would be damaged for sure. Which, would cost me a literal arm and a leg to repair. So, maybe it would be better to simply run? The house isn’t that big, I could probably get to the front door before him. “I...I don’t mean...I’m not going to kill you…” The tall man muttered, which got Sho’s attention back on him, and how he’d stepped closer. “Then why did you come in here?” Sho asked with a raised eyebrow as he studied the vampire’s face more.

Naturally for a vampire, he was gorgeous to look at. But, also natural for a hungry monster, his mouth was covered in blood and his needle-like fangs extended to the point that the man’s mouth hung slightly open. His hair was mussed and decorated with twigs from the forest that surrounded Sho’s cabin, and his clothes were equally dirty, even beyond the blood stains at the top. So, Sho couldn’t help but think that this beautifully deranged man was determined to get to him for some reason. A reason that, some part of the monster hoped was more carnal than actually starved, because when he looked back into the intruder’s grey eyes, he could see how his lightless pupils were dialated.

Which, some part of the cherry-haired man recognized as a sign of the other instincts at work in the silver-haired man’s head. Instincts that, made Sho’s blood go a bit further south than the situation likely should’ve. Though, he shoved that...curiosity, aside. The intruder had taken another step towards him, and he didn’t seem to be in a state where he could care about much beyond his own needs. And, while the stitched up man was curious to see what he’d do with him first, the risk of the pretty stranger’s fangs was a bit too high for the monster to just, give in. So, before the silver-haired man could get a third step closer, Sho turned back to the bedroom’s door and made a break for freedom.

And god, it was a rush.

Adrenaline was quick to fill his veins when he heard the intruder’s heavy footsteps follow him through the halls, past the bathroom, and into the kitchen. Close enough, that when Sho tried to knock down the only kitchen chair he had as an obstacle, the vampire was able to grab the monster’s wrist. Which, would’ve been an abrupt end to Sho’s chance of escape, if he wasn’t able to just, rip his sutures open to escape. Minus his one currently working hand, but free to continue to the front door while his pursuer was briefly stunned to a stop in the kitchen.

So, Sho took advantage of the opening he was given. He stumbled his way to the door, used his wrist stump to fumble the dead bolt open, and tried to get his fingers around the door knob.

His heartbeat a constant ba-dump, ba-dump in his ears, excitement in his blood, and his breaths quick and panicked. And, while he couldn’t tell if that was due to actual fear, or some lewd sense of excitement, it was just strong enough to make the process of opening the door a challenge with one, not-quite-attached hand. “Come on, come on, come o- oof!”

Seemed the intruder was a fast learner, though. Because, in the shakey state Sho was in, he somehow managed to sneak up on the cherry-haired monster and get him to the living room rug. “J-jesus fuck!” He squawked, his weak grip on the door knob little to no help against the weight of the intruder cold body on his back, his arms around Sho’s belly, unbothered by the redhead’s attempts to struggle free. “Let me go, dude! I’m not a good source of blood! I’m not even a girl, you can’t sate any- AH!” Sho’s words fell on deaf ears. Nothing sunk in beyond whatever animalistic urges drove his fangs into the monster’s throat and pumped in the unmistakable sensation of fluid being poured into his veins in place of his blood.

With it, came a warmth that crawled down Sho’s throat in tandem with the vampire’s venom, but also up his neck to spread over his skull until the cherry-haired man let out a mix of a moan and a pained groan. But, the warmth seemed to dull the ache of sharp fangs plunged into his throat, but simultaneously intensified the pleasure that came from how the intruder’s strong arms kept him trapped between his muscular chest and the rug so that the man could hump against the patched-together man’s ass. “H...hey…” Sho tried, his voice weakened by the intoxicating warmth that slowly turned his bones to jelly and fogged up his thoughts.

Jesus...This is so hot… bubbled up from the bleary mess the venom caused, only to be interrupted by the feeling of a bare, chilled cock being ground against his now bare ass. Which, earned a weak attempt to string together a complaint, but it crumbled apart when the silver-haired intruder growled against his throat. The sound able to rattle through his bones as if they were little more than a jello mold in an earthquake.

Which, was a feeling that was worsened when the vampire shoved his cock into Sho with a moan that seemed to turn the redhead into a rattling puddle of pleasured goo despite the sudden pain of being entered so abruptly with no prep. And, while Sho had started out somewhat reluctant, he soon caved to the thrill of the chase, the weight of the intruder’s cold, muscular body against his back, and the soon-brutal, thoughtless slams of the man’s cock into him. And, that was without the venom that Sho could feel in his veins. But god, did the warmth it brought feed the fog that filled the redhead’s mind.

A vampiric venom that felt like someone had set fire to a pile of weed, and the man was left to huff the laced smoke. His blood turned to numbing static because of it. His heart a-thunder against his sternum, each feral slam of the silver-haired man’s hips against his ass felt in powerful ripples across Sho’s inconsistently-toned skin, and even the pain that was caused by Sho’s body being jostled on the silver-haired man’s fangs was little else but an extra spark of pleasure for the bonfire.

And, while it wasn’t the reason he’d caved so easily to the man above him, the venom didn’t really leave much room for argument. even if the redhead had been turned off by the way the intruder’s animalistic growls stirred his thoughts up the same way his thrusts stirred up his guts, the fog of drug-induced lust still devoured his thoughts and kept his cock stiff while it bounced against his belly. So, Sho couldn’t even begin to find a way to keep up a form of denial.

So, he didn’t bother. He easily let his own pants and moans mix into the soundtrack of pleasure that was skin slapping into sweat-slick skin, grunts, growls, and the occasional noise that leaked through the door from outside. A soundtrack that, when paired with the heady scent of cold air and dust in the living room carpet, made Sho’s cock twitch in time with every scrap of friction that the intruder’s cock gave when pulled out and slammed back in. The breath squeezed out of Sho’s patched together body by the body above him, carpet below, and the thoughtless movements that nearly bounced him into the front door.

Though, even the inability to get a full breath didn’t ruin the fun for Sho. Because, all it managed to do was worsen the heat beneath his skin and strengthen the smog that infected his mind. Moans slightly weakened, his untouched cock left to ache with want, even as the silver-haired man fed the venomous high with his own growls, moans, and huffs of breath that tickled Sho’s skin.

Which, was a moment the patchwork monster could’ve happily lived in forever. Wildly desired by a pretty man, clung to as if he were the only source of sanity left in the world, it was a wonderful escape from the pain of isolated loneliness. So, Sho was unbothered, and almost dissapointed, when the bubble in the redhead’s belly finally burst. And, all thoughts of loneliness or pleasure were blown away in the flashbang of release. Left in their wake, only the simple buzz of the venom’s heat beneath his skin.

But, much to Sho’s thoughtless pleasure, the intruder didn’t seem to notice, nor care about, the redhead’s orgasm. The pulses of euphoria, the shake of Sho’s barely together body, none of it seemed to penetrate the vampire’s hunger to get him to stop. And, Sho was more than happy for him to stay like that.

[twisted-fucked-up-sunflower]

my thoughts on crime and punishment characters!!

Raskolnikov: he’s so babygirl, he’s just like me fr. Minus the killing people part and the ubermensch complex he has. I’d argue he’s schizotypal but that’s likely not true. So I headcanon him as such. (If it’s unclear, I am schizotypal myself)

Razumikhin: Undisputed best bisexual representation in literature, my GOAT, love him to death, XOXO. No further comments. Perfect character.

Dunia: [to Svidrigailov] GET A JOB. STAY AWAY FROM HER (I wrote this in the book pages where it was relevant). She’s as smart as Rodia from what I read, though she wasn’t developed a lot as a character I think? I still need to re-read the book later. She should’ve shot the revolver at the guy’s head. Probably didn’t want to end up like her brother, though. Unlikely she’d come out winning from killing a man with connections, as evil as he was.

Pulkeria: Didn’t really find her too interesting, but I think that’s because she wasn’t focused on a lot. Remarkably patient towards Rodia, it was infuriating when Rodia just fucked off and didn’t speak to them (Dunia and Pulkeria) for days. His ungrateful ass. I get this habit, though, since I have it myself. Sometimes people are upsetting to be around, for no reason, might I add.

Svidrigailov: Exceedingly, unabashedly, shamelessly despicable. Hate him with my heart. He seems like a parallel to Rodia, and the book seems to focus on this from Rodia’s own observations. Parallel not in a good way, I’ll clarify, but in a “What if he was completely evil” way. I’ve got 40 pages left to read in this book and I’d like it if within the next 20 he ****** himself. Irredeemable but really interesting at the psychological level. He’s insane, it seems. Or maybe also schizotypal. Either way words cannot describe how much I hate this man.

Porfiry: Not much to say here, he ate Raskolnikov up both times they talked though, gagged him 😭 #embarrassing

Lujin/Luzhin (not sure on how it’s spelt): He’s so laughable. Gets insulted once, subsequently sends word of how it hurt his feewings to get clocked at the psychological level by the brother of the woman he’s going to marry, at his historic age like FOH ☠️. And I was livid when he tried to incriminate Sonia/Sofya (I prefer Sonia tbh) like bro really tried that shit 😂😂😂. He got owned by Rodion every single time he tried to fight back it was so fucking funny. Pathetic ass man. Glad he called off the marriage. Asshole.

Sonia: She’s Rodion’s love interest, it seems. I don’t get why she’s going to go to Siberia with him, though. Her family’s taken care of (by SVIDRIGAILOV of all people) and she hasn’t committed any crimes. Is it just something to do with misogyny or something related to it? She told Rodia to confess to his crime to atone, but in a *catholic* way. It’s crazy she got burdened with the knowledge of Rodia’s crimes and still said “Oh how you suffer! Atone for your sin willingly, it’s your only way to get rid of the guilt!” Her abnegate character showed a bit here, methinks. Still, why the fuck would she go to Siberia? Just because she *loves* Rodia? They both seem like they fell in love with each other for some odd reason, or maybe none at all so yeah. She’s also a favorite because of the way they describe her, the blue eyes seem like something I’d like to draw, when I get to it. Though, it’s curious that it’s Svidrigailov in love with Dunia and Raskolnikov in love with Sonia. Dunia and Sonia get stuck with the two murderous morons. (Well, not Dunia, because she managed to get Svidrigailov to not assault her. Again, DESPICABLE man, that one. Hope he dies :D) 

 Anastasia/Anastasya: I love her so much, I wish we’d gotten to see her interact with Razumikhin more because their dynamic was funny to me. She also laughed with a snort if I recall and that is so real of her. She also helped Rodia with food, basically kept his stupid ass alive for free before Razumikhin came back.

Zamiotov: Not much to say about him, really. Funny when Rodia explained in detail how he ‘would have’ gone about murdering Alyona, though. Fucking hilarious to read that shit. Most obvious criminal of all time.

Marmeladov: God knows how many pages he went on telling Rodia his entire life story. Perfect character. No notes.

Catarina/Sonia’s mother: Very tragic. Her death made me feel sad. But the parts before that when she was just DRAGGING Amelia Lippewechsel, she was so real for that.

I think I might be missing a few characters. No worries! I won’t update this lol. I hope those who read, if any do, find this funny. 

[out-of-luck-and-minorly-stuck]

Monochromatic || Wandanat

(Age of Ultron timeline) (Soulmate AU) (Part 1/??)

Wanda Maximoff, a girl that unfortunately got experimented with her brother by HYDRA. Driven by pain, grief and agony, they volunteered, thinking that they would have a chance to get revenge.

Wanda got her powers and her brother, Pietro got his. However, they were used solely as weapons, locked up in a cell with no way to escape.

There is no denial that they still constantly get nightmares, always haunting them each. All because of the tragic death of their parents and the cruel experimentation of HYDRA.

They didn't know what to believe or who to trust anymore. Until, they were sent to take down Ultron, whom somehow convinced them to be his allies.

They should've known that Ultron was planning something, I mean they do know but not the real plan that was on his monochromatic mind. He made them believe things. That he wanted the world to grow, to change things.

A month ago, she had noticed the fading color of her sight. It kept worser and worser each day, until it stayed monochromatic. She remembered her mother used to say to her that once her sight fades to monochrome, she's close to meeting her soulmate.

She grew up watching romance sitcoms, so she believed it and hoped for a day that she'll met the man who'd she stay her life with. Until her parents died in front of her, she just stopped believing that silly dream because she knew it'll never happen.

Except, it did happen.

She caught a glimpse of the infamous redhead, Black Widow. Her felt heart skip a beat. She stood there, frozen and petrified as the other girl was looked around then locked her eyes upon her.

And by some magical shit that was happening, she had noticed that her vision is starting to get colorized. What the actual fuck, she thinks.

That until her brother, Pietro shook her back to reality, making her realize that she's in the opposite side as the Russian redhead. Which means she had to fight her.

She knows that she needed to hurt the girl by messing up with her mind, showing her fears and basically break her on the inside. She knows that she had to do it. So she did, she had no choice but to.

As she caught the redhead girl off guard, red hex coming out of her hands, glowing as she began to show the girl her weakness, it showed a memory instead. A memory of the ballet, the strict training and the graduation ceremony. She realized that the redhead was already living her fears, she felt sympathy for the redhead.

The guilt just ate her alive.