#I'm sorry for disappearing after the vent

[marali-iin]

Trying the trend of your art before and after the rendering (I haven't drawn digitally in so long)

Before

After!

Btw I've been getting really into Greek mythology so idk if we're okay adding that to the list of things I'll write and make art about

[mr-urple]

Sometimes I hate having the latest timezone because I get really insecure at night but everyone's asleep so I can't ask for a hug from my family and god it kind of sucks

[ghettogirly]

Hey boo! I'm not sure if you're taking requests, but if you are, would you be willing to check this out?

I was thinking about a fresh out of prison Armando Aretas. He's been a little rough with you during sex, ever since he was released. Hurting you is definitely not his intention but he can't help but lose control after all this time away from you. It doesn't bother you at all but he still feels bad about his actions and wants to make it up to you. (Soft smut)

xblackfemalereader or femalereader would suffice.

This is for the freaks! Okay, I'm out.💋💋

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐏����𝐫𝐝𝐨́𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐚..

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

᯾ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐗 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

᯾ synopsis: Armando couldn’t wait to return back to you after being freshly broken out of prison, wanting to come back home and to cherish you again was all that he wished for. However, he certainly didn’t wish to hurt you either.

᯾ theme: angst with a happy ending, smut.

᯾ format: story.

᯾ warnings: sex, mentions of escaping prison, armando is a rough during sex, mature language, reader gets hurt during sex, use of a safe word.

᯾ authors note: i hope you enjoyed!! This is my longest story yet, sorry it took so long, i added so many different elements.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆, this was a normality within the institution as the men went crazy being locked in their cell for 23 hours a day. Their brains slowly turning insane at the routine of staring at white walls while the day goes by. Men turned into animals here, feeling as if they’re in a cage, they had nothing else to cast out their anger on.

Animalistic screams were scattered around the block of cells as the prison warden took no notice, sitting down on his chair with his hat covering his eyes as his head was down. Clearly taking no notice of the cameras. Casually walking over to the welded steel door, Armando looked through the tiny screen on his door, looking around as far as the tiny little screen within the door let him. He was used to the chaos, however, that didn’t mean it got any less annoying.

Yet, today was the day.

Plopping his magazine on his bed, he walked around to his shower room. Armando crouched down slightly. Pushing his fingers through the small steel gaps of the tiny vent in his cell, he opened it, taking out a match. “aquí tienes…”

His prison flip flops created a smack on the concrete floor as they connected. Whistling, he looked up at the camera while messing about with it in his hand. Wasting no time, A whoosh of light appeared before him as the flame quickly ignited and started moving slowly down the little stick. “Hasta el fuego.” Throwing the match onto his bed, he ran into the shower and disappeared down the hole.

Below the hole was a motorcycle waiting for him , with some cartel members side by side. Jumping on the blacked out bike, armando revved his aggressively before driving off. “Vamos! ¡No tenemos tiempo!” The other men nodded before quickly following their boss.

𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐀𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃. Armando’s orange jumpsuit clung to him as the fibres shrunk due to the contact of the rain above, now displaying his buff physique. Alarms were heard blaring in the distance, presumably because of the chaos he left behind.

Regardless, he kept his pace, running to a remote location within the field. His cartel organised a chopper for him there, to safely secure him back at the mansion. Branches snapped as he jumped over them or threw them out the way, Armando stayed alert.

Left. Right. Up. Behind.

Every area had to be surveilled. No witnesses. No police.

Finally reaching the location, a chopper was there awaiting him. A member stepped out to greet him, yet, there was no time for that. “¡Súbete al puto avión!” The male shouted, ordering his men as he signalled the pilot to engage. Some cartel members were still far behind. “Tsk.”

Bolts of light flashed among the mexican faces as bullets made of hardened steel penetrated the bodies of the workers still running to the helicopter, knocking them down one by one, the male angled his arms with ease. Looking through the scope, he released each bullet one by one, none of them being able to escape this fate. BANG! BANG! BANG!

“If they can’t keep up, leave them in the dirt.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐄𝐗𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐍̃𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐒. Twirling his ring around, all he could think about was his wife. You was the light of his world. Staying with him through thick and thin, you even gave up your dream of a beautiful wedding by marrying him in prison.

He was coming back home now though, ready to give you the world baby.

Satisfied with the life Armando already gave you, each day you thanked the heavens that he was still alive. It was painful, seeing him locked up. Yet, it would’ve been worse placing down his casket six feet under. 𝐌𝐈𝐗𝐄𝐃 𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐗𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓, travelled through your system as amygdala integrated your emotions with the other areas of your brain. He was coming back.

“Ma’am he’s here.”

“Jefe, estamos aquí.”

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐌𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐈. Cartel members swiftly moved to the door, opening it, revealing the muscular leader. Splashes of dirt imprinted the orange jumpsuit due to the dampness of the forest. It had slight rips in it, clear signs of getting caught onto nature.

Armando slowly made his way out of the chopper, slowly analysing all his workers as they waited for his approval. “Es bueno estar de vuelta.” Bottles were popped as loud cheers were heard from the whole crowd, who walked over to greet him. He gave handshakes and side hugs to his most loyal “friends.”

𝐀 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐀𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃. “Finally you’re home!” Running up to him, you jump in his arms as they wrap around you, leaning in for a kiss. “ive te perdió..” Armando whispers, feeling your scent flow over his senses, bringing him a sense of comfort. Looking up at you with love in his eyes, he licks his lips, “Maldita sea, no puedo esperar para quitarles la ropa.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍 𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐋𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍��, 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍. His heavy arm laid on your thighs, sleeping at an angle due to his constant movement while sleeping. Clearly he was not used to being in a comfortable bed, transitioning from prison conditions to luxurious conditions being a massive jump.

Yet, you felt strange. Your body felt sore due to the sudden use of muscles contracting while keeping up with Armando’s rough pace. Maybe it was the prison system that made him more aggressive, maybe it was the excitement. Who knows?

Nevertheless, you brushed it off. Not wanting to overthink all the possibilities of the sudden change in his sexual stance the night before. This was a moment to enjoy life, not dwell on it.

Removing the pink, silk bonnet that rested on top of your head, protecting every curl from breakage, they spilled out. Resting beautifully on your shoulders. It was frizzy at the roots due to the intensity of last night, the sweat causing the curls to become puffy, but that’s not nothing a little mousse can’t fix. Messing about with your curls as you was lost in thought, you felt a gentle press to your shoulder.

“está bien?”

You nodded, not really feeling the need to tell Armando about your thoughts from the night before, not wanting to concern him on his first morning being free from the cage he used to be contained in. “Never been better.” Planting a kiss on your lips, he smiled at your reply, not thinking anything of it as he was essentially on cloud nine. “Ven a acostarte con-“

A loud buzz reverberated off of the oak bedside table, a loud groan was made by the male as he slowly rolled over to pick it up. Swiping the green button, he answered. “¿Por qué coño me llamas tan temprano en la mañana?” You chuckled at his blunt answer, typical Armando.

A sigh escaped your husband’s lips, clearly annoyed at the shit he had to deal with so early in the morning. Placing the phone down he looked over at you, “tengo que irme..”, annoyance was plastered all over his face.

“That’s fine, i’ll be waiting here for you anyways babe.” You said gently, kissing his cheek and then his lips. Wrapping his arms around you, he leans for another kiss. and another. and another. “You need to go..”

“¿Realmente tengo que???”

Chuckling you lightly hit his arm, “Go and get up.”

“Ya no me amas?”

A pillow was then flung towards his head.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝟏𝟎𝐏𝐌 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍. Armando had blood splatters on his white-collared shirt. The first two buttons were undone as he coordinated the outfit with black pants, he was looking sexy but that wasn’t the point. “What happened?” Asking in a panic as you walk up to him to check if he’s okay. “Estoy bien, no te preocupes.”

He walked into the bathroom, taking off his shirt and pants as he threw them into the wash basket. Walking back out, half naked. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, the scars tattooed all over his body due to the violent nature of the cartel being a sad story to tell, but sexy to look at.

𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 - 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐀

“Súbete a la cama, princesa.”

Wasting no time, you did as you were told, stripping off your clothes. Slowly crawling onto the bed you laid down, spreading your legs as he got in between you. Tracing his finger up and down your clit, your wetness coating his finger. “Stop-“ Not even having time to finish your sentence, he pushed a finger in, making you gasp.

Pumping it in and out, you writhed under him at the pleasure he’s inflicting upon you. “Oh fuck!”

He slowly lowered himself down by your clit, still pumping in that finger. You felt his hot breath on your lower area, sending down electrical impulses throughout your nervous system, diffusing through your synapses. A wet object then placed itself upon your clit, circling it.

Armando licked stripes up and down,

making you moan in pleasure, tugging on his hair as you urge him to do more. “I can’t..”

“Puede.” Lifting himself up from that area, he pulls his finger out from you, putting it in his mouth and tasting you. Repositioning himself, he lines up his cock with your pussy before pushing himself in, stretching you out. A sharp flash of pain struck you before quickly dying back down. Armando didn’t seem to notice and slowly started thrusting for about 5 seconds before increasing his speed.

It was somewhat animalistic as he roughly thrusted into you, clearly taking his anger out on your body. It was satisfying at first, but then, his pace got faster. His grip becoming harder. “Armando!” You shouted, but he was still caught up in the overwhelming feeling of being inside of you.

“Cherry! Cherry!”

That’s when he noticed and stopped., quickly pulling out of you “¿Te lastimaste?”

“Estoy bien, todavía estoy adolorido de la otra noche.”

You noticed the pained expression that plastered his face. “Lo siento, lo siento-“

Holding his face in his hands, you look at him with a passion in your eyes. “I know you never meant to hurt me. Stop blaming yourself so much.”

Armando looked at you and nodded, before lifting you up and carrying you to the bathroom.

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇, he slowly stroked your face as you relaxed against him. “Perdoname quierda.” He whispered.

“Don’t worry, i already have.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[🕷️] 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒:

“aquí tienes…” : there it is..

“Vamos! ¡No tenemos tiempo!” : Let’s go! We don’t have time!

“¡Súbete al puto avión!”: Get on the fucking plane!

Los campañeros: Their companions.

“Jefe, estamos aquí.”: Boss, we are here.

“Es bueno estar de vuelta.”: It’s good to be back.

“Te extrañé” I missed you.

“No puedo esperar para quitarme esta ropa”: I can’t wait to take these clothes off.

“está bien?” : You okay ?

“Ven a acostarte con-“ : Come sleep with-

“¿Por qué coño me llamas tan temprano en la mañana?”: Why the fuck are you calling me so early in the morning?

“tengo que irme..”,: I have to go

“¿Realmente tengo que???” : Do i really have to ???

“Ya no me amas?” You don’t love me?

“Estoy bien, no te preocupes.” : I am fine, don’t worry.

“Acuéstate en la cama, princesa.” : Lie on the bed princess.

“Puede.” : You can.

“¿Te lastimaste?” : Are you hurt?

“Estoy bien, todavía estoy adolorido de la otra noche.” : I’m fine, i’m still sore from the other night.

“Lo siento.” : I’m sorry.

“Perdoname quierda.”: Forgive me, love.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[🕷️] 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @milliumizoomi @shurisgf @tyneshaaa @sarcasticbitchsblog @amplifiedmoan @wizewhispers @5tarlan7 @thedarkworldofhananerea @armandosbabymama @dyttomori @deadpool15

[heathermason6060]

Serial Killer!Daryl Dixon x f!Reader Smut: Teeth and Pearl earrings

Warnings: serial killer daryl, rough smut, inconsiderate smut, NO noncon, stalking, stealing, mentions of killing

Summary: Daryl can't decide if he wants to kill you, or fuck you. Switches between Daryl's and Readers POV.

Notes: SO SORRY ITS LONG This was really fun but really challenging to write, I tried to keep him as in character as possible, but that's hard when making him a serial killer lol! I'm making this a two pt, with the reader finding out in the next part.

Some days Daryl thought his luck might run out. He'd been lucky for too long. As far as he knew, no one suspected a thing. Every time he'd go out “hunting”, no matter how long he was gone for, he'd always managed to bring back something. Deer, rabbits, squirrels when prey was scarce. 

It was easier now that the world had ended to keep it a secret. No threat of cops catching on, no more cameras on every street corner, no need to try to erase every possible trace.

The only thing he found to prove difficult had been finding a place to keep his trophies. He didn't really have a preference, hair, a tooth, or a piece of clothing, it was something he didn't understand the meaning of but something he did each time. He kept it in his room in the vent above his bed, behind a few boxes of books. The week prior he took it down to put the wedding ring of a man who tried attacking Rick out on their supply run, he’d had to restrain himself and keep the stabbing to a minimum because of Rick's presence. 

He found himself growing uncomfortably interested in you. A revelation that he really, really didn't like. You were off limits, you were one of Rick's closest friends, you'd been there way too long. And you clearly hadn't done anything deserving of the things he daydreamed about doing to you, unlike the victims he’d killed before.

The more he tried to push those thoughts away, the stronger they came back. His hands around your throat, the way your eyes would tear up as you struggled against him and the fact someone you trusted so much was the one ending your life. 

His eyes followed you over the flames of the campfire as you took your plates and went inside. Aaron had hosted a little get together in his yard in Alexandria, cooking dinner for everyone in celebration of the newest addition to the town. Some nobody he found out there on their own, who jumped at the idea of joining a large group of people. 

If Daryl had to kill you, he’d keep a lock of your hair. 

He couldn't stop staring at it as you went inside. His mind flooded with flashes of pictures of it, his hand in it, stroking your soft locks before grabbing a fistful and putting a knife to your throat. The way you'd squeal and beg, squirm against him as he presses the edge firmer into your skin. 

He bit the inside of his cheek and looked away after you disappeared in the house you shared with Maggie and a few others. 

It was like you were practically begging him to follow you. 

Five different times that week you'd gone out on your own to ‘clear your head’, whatever the hell that meant. 

First time he heard Glenn mention to someone that you'd just gone out beyond the walls, he wanted to follow you. The idea was far too tempting. But he didn't, he knew damn well he couldn't trust himself with you all alone, no one to hear you scream. 

The fantasies he had begun to form disgusted him. He didn't just go out and kill any random human he felt like, he had to have some sort of rules or else things would get out of hand real fast. If he were to get caught, it needed to be someone Rick wouldn't think twice about him killing. Some raider, or any kind of piece of shit who'd be a threat to their group. He needed to have a fallback, worst case scenario one of Alexandria caught him. 

Second rule, none of his people. Ever. His morals were questionable, if he had it his way he'd go out and hunt down any human he came across outside those walls.

But never his people. In a hypocritical way he did care about them, in the same way that any normal sane human being would care about their family. He could never even dream about hurting any of them, he’d rather die. But they had to earn that place in his heart. 

It was a wonder you hadn't been killed by anyone else yet. The way you walked through the woods with your light pink sweater, leaving tracks in the leaves that a blind man could follow, and that fucking humming. He could easily track you with his eyes closed for miles with the way you kept humming. 

You'd gone into an old shack in the backyard of an abandoned trailer.

A part of him felt angry then, how were you so stupid? If it had been someone else following you, and not Daryl, who knows what they'd do to you? And you'd have no idea until it was too late. 

He paused at the thought. If he wasn't careful, that's exactly what would happen. 

He followed you home about half a mile behind the entire time. When you were at the road that led to the gates he turned back, deciding it was the perfect time to go hunting. 

The crossbow on his back weighed heavier than it normally did as he slunk down into the underbrush at the forest's edge. He hadn't decided on what animal yet, but the frustration and confusion alone caused by you made it pretty easy to guess. 

He wiped the blood from the molar before he tucked it in the box in his vent, and decided to pay Maggie and Glenn a visit.

The house was completely empty, so he let his curiosity get the better of him.

Your room was pretty. 

Your bed, a whopping full size mattress, made his pull out look like a military cot. You had an array of paintings on your walls, he remembered some of them. As soon as you got your own room in Alexandria you went out on runs with Glenn and Maggie just so you could decorate it. 

His eyes went from painting to painting, then to your dresser. You kept it unexpectedly neat for someone who behaved so sloppily in the woods. Your journal, a small glass box you kept your sentimental jewelry in, a few makeup products. What drew his attention was the jewelry box, he could see the pair of pearl earrings you used to constantly wear. You never took them out back then, not even to sleep. 

Orange bled into a dark purple against his face and he blinked, coming back to himself in front of your bedroom window. A strange confusion twisted in his gut when he realized he'd just been standing there, staring out your window for so long the sun had set.

You weren't stupid, or blind. 

You'd have to be a fool to not notice the way Daryl had been taking interest in you. 

There'd been several times in Alexandria where you'd be busy doing something, turn around and see him standing off in the distance, staring at you like fuckin’ Michael Myers. 

If you'd go on runs and he came with you, you'd often glance at him to see him already looking. He'd always look away, pull out a cigarette and act like he wasn't just burning holes in the back of your head. 

You'd come to the obvious conclusion that he had a crush on you. 

What else could it be? You'd always thought he was really hot, men like that were hard to come by. Quiet, observant, strong as hell, he’d do anything for the people he loved and he wasn't an annoying pervert who'd suddenly turn into an asshole if you rejected him. Not that you'd ever reject him. 

Each time you caught him staring your heart would race and you'd try to give a friendly smile, but apparently he was too shy for that. Which sucked, because of all the men you could have the hots for, Daryl was the most unapproachable and intimidating. 

“Hey, have you guys seen an earring laying around anywhere?” You asked at dinner, glancing around the table. Carol had invited the inner group over for dinner, she'd made pasta and cookies. 

You could never get enough of Carol's cookies. 

“What's it look like?” Maggie asked beside Glenn, the two of them looking at you thoughtfully from across the table. 

“Just a pearl earring. The one's I always used to wear.” You took a sip of your sweet tea, looking at the other faces to see if any of them had a split second look of recognition. 

“Not that I can remember.” Glenn cleared his throat and shook his head after swallowing a heavy mouthful of alfredo pasta. 

“I'll keep an eye out for it.” Rick tipped his head to you, nodding slightly before continuing eating. You smiled in return, knowing if anyone was likely to find it, it’d be him. 

He'd grown very fond of you recently, the image of you had shifted in his head from another person he was responsible for, to a dear friend he could trust with his life. Mostly due to the way you were with Carl, always doing your best to be a figure of comfort to him. Not as close as he'd grown to Michonne, but more of a young aunt who takes too much interest in art and jewelry.

“I haven't seen you wear those in a while.” Carl spoke up. 

You sighed when no one had any leads. “Yeah, I know. Just been worried about losing them, they're pretty important.” You took the last bite of your cookie, dusting your hands together before speaking again. “It's really weird, they were both in my jewelry box last time I checked, but this morning there was only one.” 

“You think someone stole one?” Carol's voice held a tight tone of suspicion, her eyes narrowing so slightly you could've missed it if you blinked. 

“No, I mean, no one goes in our house besides you all. And I know none of you care about a single earring.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek in deep thought. 

You felt that familiar sensation of warmth on your cheek, like someone had a hot iron near you. 

You turned your head to your left, met with Daryl's eyes from his spot at the end of the other side of the table. 

To your surprise he didn't look away like he usually did. He kept his gaze steady, his elbows propped on the table and his hands clasped together in front of his mouth. 

You didn't feel butterflies like usual, and your cheeks burned for a different reason. For the first time you were the one to look away. 

Rick had put together a group to scout out further into town for more resources. The usual suspects, Aaron, Sasha, Rosita, Abraham, Daryl and of course, you.

He hadn't made up his mind on if he was glad or not. He'd been stupid, feeding the sparks of his mild obsession, and that pretty little pearl earring he kept in his jeans pocket felt like twenty pounds of red-hot metal.

They'd set up camp for the night in the woods right on the outskirts of town. Abraham had set up mediocre sound traps around the small clearing, and Daryl couldn't help but snort when you walked right into one and the cans failed to clash together. 

Fire was a dumb idea too. 

Daryl had started to remember why he preferred being alone. Aaron was too used to the safety of the Alexandria walls. 

Abraham told him he'd better put it out after dark, also throwing in a passive aggressive insult, and Aaron stuttered out an agreement. 

It was getting harder and harder to keep his eyes off you. He sat across the fire from you, watching you smile and laugh and joke with Rosita like you were two young girls in summer camp.

As the flames of his fixation on you grew, so did his confliction. 

He had no problems with you. He'd barely even paid attention to you before you'd arrived at Alexandria, you were just another background character in his story that wouldn't make a difference if you died or not. But you'd grown close to Rick and Maggie, two people he cared about. So by extension, he cared about you too. 

He wasn't sure when it started. It kind of just happened over time.

He was always an outside observer, keeping details of each person he knew on a list in his mind. 

But you, he couldn't think of any reason you'd be so special. It was obvious you were smoking hot, he wasn't blind. But he'd seen his share of beautiful women. Maybe it was the fact you seemed to always have luck on your side, you could go out singing in the woods and never run into any trouble. 

If the two of you weren't careful, that luck might change tonight. 

Abraham and Aaron were busy looking at a map of the town and figuring out what pathing they'd take in the morning. Sasha and Rosita were sitting on their bedrolls cleaning their guns and talking about meaningless things, he didn't care enough to listen. 

You were the odd man out. Just like him. 

Sitting in the dirt on the other side of the fire, fidgeting with a stick in front of you while you thought. 

He could tell you knew he was staring at you again. And judging by the way you were forcing yourself to keep your eyes on the stick you were drawing circles in the dirt with, you were trying your best not to look up. 

He didn't expect you to look up. He almost let the confusion show on his face, caught off guard by his incorrect prediction. He saw the way your cheeks flushed even though the light of the fire made your face glow orange. He flared his nostrils at the sight, why'd you have to make it so damn hard?

His heart dropped when you suddenly stood and walked off into the woods. 

No one had even noticed, too wrapped up in their conversations. Another thing that succeeded in his self restraint slipping away. 

Daryl followed after counting three minutes in his head. He'd really hoped you'd come back before then, praying you'd be lucky enough to slip back through the trees before he got to his feet. 

It was dark in the woods away from the campfire. 

He could hear you a few yards ahead, your boots crunching lightly on leaves despite your attempts at being quiet. 

He kept his distance, just following the sounds of your footsteps and the slight silhouette of your body, the moonlight seeping through the treetops barely grazing your hair and shoulders. 

This was way too natural to him. 

Now out here you were just like any other victim, but it brought him comfort knowing there'd be no way he could hurt you and get away with it. The two of you disappear off into the woods at night and only Daryl comes back? He might think the people around the fire made stupid decisions sometimes, but they weren't stupid enough to not be suspicious of him. 

Maybe he could say walkers got you. 

He clenched his jaw when he realized he was at such a desperate point that an idea that stupid even crossed his mind. 

“Daryl?”

The sound of your sweet voice made him physically recoil, his hand falling from the knife in his belt that he didn't realize he'd been gripping. 

He could barely make out your figure in front of him. You were facing him, maybe six feet away, standing underneath a large pine tree. 

There was no use in hiding. Your eyes would've adjusted enough by now to see the shape of him. 

Finally, he answered, his voice coming out in more of a growl than a human speaking. “Shouldn't be out here alone.” 

There was silence before you filled it with the crunching of your footsteps moving towards him. 

His body tensed as you drew closer, now able to make out the pretty features of your face. An image of you flashed in his head, blood running down your nose and lips, tears in your eyes, your fingernails raking down his wrist. 

“I just needed a minute to clear my head.” You said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, like you weren't out in the dead of night stomping around loud enough for any walkers within a five mile radius to hear. 

Daryl said nothing, his eyes fixed on your face as you slowly crept near. Although he hated not being able to read your expressions, he was thankful for it, because he was hanging on by a thread and if you even showed the slightest hint of fear, he'd snap. He wouldn't be able to resist if your lips trembled, or if your eyes widened and you stuttered a single apprehensive syllable. 

But as his eyes adjusted even further, his mouth ran dry and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He felt like he'd been slapped in the face. That would've been less of a stun than the look you were giving him, standing only a few inches away from him. 

Your plan had worked. You'd been plotting it ever since Rick paired you up in that group, the silent attention Daryl had been giving you ended up driving you mad. You found it absurd that all it took was a few stares to make you feel like he was some A list celebrity giving you special treatment.

Maybe it was a little stupid the way you went about it, but the curiosity eating you up inside didn't have you thinking straight. Walking off into the woods was one thing, but at night? In woods so thick you could barely see your hand outstretched in front of you? Blindly trekking through the leaves in the mere hope that he'd follow you and make a move? 

You hadn't had sex in way too long. 

Yeah, that was it.

That's why you were making the decisions of a dumb bitch in a horror movie. But at least it was Daryl you were after, you knew you'd be fine if you ran into trouble. 

You thought you'd be fine.

Emboldened by the darkness and privacy you'd secured for yourself, you approached him. Your heart hammered against your chest, and you had to bite your lip to keep from panicking, the fear of rejection or a humiliating scolding almost made you change your mind. 

Your eyes strained in the dark to make out the features of his face. 

He looked almost expressionless, but there was something in his eyes, something that had your steady breathing turning into shuddering breaths coming from your mouth. His gaze looked like a textbook example of ‘dark’. Your heart felt like it was literally about to explode, and when you saw his upper lip barely twitch, you let out an accidental sigh, too exhilarated to feel embarrassed with yourself. 

He was right in front of you then. You'd crossed every single inch of ground that separated you, and you could smell his signature scent of cigarettes, smoke, those spicy little mint leaves he'd chew on for his oral fixation. There was a hint of male musk as well, just barely there after a day walking outside in the woods. 

You could see his chest rising and falling more dramatically now. 

He was still dead silent, his eyes never leaving yours, even as you looked over every inch of him. You'd been biting your lip so hard it started to ache, and so you released it, your mouth opening to speak, you yourself unaware of what you planned to say.

The sound of Abraham’s whistle signal breaking through the thick silence had you feeling like you fell out of a plane. You sucked in a gasp and pulled your hand back from where it hung inches away from Daryl's chest. 

Daryl's posture snapped into something so different it gave you whiplash. He was Daryl Dixon again, the sight so drastic you couldn't help but feel unnerved. 

He whistled back before looking at you once more. It was still too dark to tell if he looked relieved or disappointed. “C'mon.” 

Keeping his distance from people had never been a problem for Daryl. But what you did that night had permanently altered something inside him. 

He didn't know if he wanted to fuck you or kill you. Maybe both. 

You became his new favorite pastime. 

When everyone fell asleep that night, he sat with his back against the same tree he'd been sitting under for hours, his eyes keeping their unwavering stance on your sleeping form. All the while he imagined hundreds of different things to do to you. 

His mind kept going between strangling the life out of you, watching it bleed from your eyes. Or the other one, the image where he was burying his face between your legs with his tongue and teeth sucking and nipping, licking till it became too much and you begged him to stop.

He carefully planned out his next encounter with you over the course of days. He acted it out the night of a “party” at Aaron and Eric’s house, so focused on his plan he didn't even know what they were having a party for.

Daryl didn't care if you caught him staring anymore. That night in the woods he could practically smell how bad you wanted it, it didn't matter to him anymore if he disregarded all basic manners.

The last time there was a party in Alexandria was when Rick's group joined. Daryl hadn't gone to that one, the feeling of being an outdoor cat watching indoor cats eating their fancy wet food too much for him. 

But he'd do anything to continue this little game with you. It was new, and there were no rules. 

For the most part he was his usual self, sticking to the side and keeping enough casual conversation to blend in. The perfect balance between himself, and the part of him that imagined in great detail all the sounds you'd make. 

He took a sip of the beer Aaron forced in his hands, his eyes looking back to you. 

You looked like a fresh cut of meat just waiting for him to sink his teeth into. 

The dress you wore hugged every single piece of your body, fitting you in a way that was almost poetic, but it was modest enough that it didn't draw unwanted attention. You were beside Rick most of the night, happily chatting and drinking champagne in a way that oozed confidence. 

Every now and then you'd look at him, and he'd savor all the details of the way your confidence faded into something he didn't have a word for. You looked nervous, but hungry, like someone reaching out a hesitant hand to stroke the pelt of a tamed predator. 

Daryl wanted to bite that hand, hold it in his harsh jaws while your other one stroked his fur. 

You played your part well, after most of the formal greetings and casual conversation had been taken care of you slipped out the back door. 

He counted three minutes in his head before making his exit, which was stopped by Carol.

“Leaving already, huh?” She gave him a knowing smirk, unaware that her assumption he was just bored was incorrect. He'd never been more entertained. 

“Yeah, shit ain't for me anyway.” He played along with a nonchalant shrug, pulling a lone cigarette from his shirt pocket. “Done enough already just by comin’.” 

Carol nodded, that smirk still on her face as she looked at the people standing around making friendly conversation. “Don't get into any trouble. Don't wanna help you hide bodies again.”

Daryl snorted, the cigarette bobbing between his lips. If there was anyone he'd come to for help hiding bodies it definitely would've been her. “Yeah yeah. Night Carol.” He gave her a pat on her shoulder before turning sideways to fit through the cracked door. 

He hadn't expected you to be so good at this. He'd been prepared to walk down the steps of the porch and see you standing down the sidewalk, waiting for him like he was your prom date. 

You weren't too good, though. He found you rather easily. The bottom of your heels left slight little indents in the dirt, leading between the houses, down the street, and right up to the sidewalk in front of your house. 

His heart rate sped up a little when he remembered that house was completely empty, all but you.

Or so he thought.

You weren't anywhere to be seen. He checked every room, growing increasingly irritated when each one turned up nothing. He was about to give up and just head home when he checked your room one last time. 

Something caught his eye, a blade of grass, his eyes followed the bits of grass to see those black heels sitting under your dresser, taking the place of your boots.

You tried to keep from anxiously picking at your fingernails as you stood behind the thick underbrush at the woodline, watching for any sign of movement along the outside walls. 

There was a spot at the back wall near a platform no one really watched anymore, which is where the both of you had gone to leave without being seen. 

You were beginning to think maybe you'd read him wrong. Your heart skipped a beat as you remembered that look he gave you at the party, it was impossible to describe. He was lacking any sort of expression, but in his eyes held this darkness that made swallowing your champagne hard when you'd seen it. The way he leaned against the wall near a group of people, his eyes steady and fixed on you, you could only decipher that as a look of craving for something he'd been wanting for a long time.

If you hadn't been looking at the Alexandrian walls, you would've missed it. For a split second you saw a flash of dark clothing, even darker hair, and you darted from your position behind the thickets.

Thankfully it wasn't as dark as that one night. 

The sun had dipped down below the trees and out of sight, but it left just enough light for the sky to be a dark blue. The full moon made it even brighter, and soon you were in one of the houses right outside Alexandria. 

You stood in the living room and waited. You'd already checked the house for walkers before this, not keen on the idea of a growling monstrosity of green and purple flesh ruining whatever might happen there when Daryl arrived. 

If he arrived. 

You were beginning to think maybe he wasn't coming. The heavy front door was open just a few inches, you'd wanted to be able to see him approach the house, to take him by surprise, maybe giving him the same fright he'd given you countless times.

Suddenly, the air grew heavy. You felt that feeling again, like you were in danger, the feeling you might get being stalked by a large cat. 

There was a breeze behind you, and you recognized it as a draft from the back window being opened. 

Although it was happening behind you, your mind raced as you played out the scene. His hands bracing against the walls on either side of the window, his first leg dipping over like a spider emerging from its tunnel. 

The tap of a boot meeting the wood floor under the window, so light and careful you almost didn't hear it. A second foot, he was in the house, only across the room from you. You held your breath as the footsteps drew near, slow, deliberate, you could tell just by the timing of his steps he was approaching you like a leopard closing in on a wounded deer. Confident, patient, nearly sadistic.

The feeling of his breath on your bare shoulder sent chills through your body and goosebumps down your arms. It was cold and barely there, you felt like if you turned around you'd be met with an empty house.

His fingers were just as light as his breath, tracing the thin dress strap over your shoulder, down and to the middle of your spine. 

Never in your wildest dreams did you think Daryl could be this confident in this way. He acted like every antagonist in a romance novel, dark and self-assured with every move he made. 

You felt yourself relaxing as you leaned your back against his chest, feeling the leather of his vest on your skin, as well as the buttons on his black shirt. 

The feeling of his hand snaking over your shoulder and up to your neck succeeded in sending every last drop of blood in your body down between your legs. You were fully prepared for the best slow, deep, mind-blowing sex of your life, but that quickly changed when his hand wrapped around your throat and squeezed.

It wasn't a firm and sexy squeeze, it was a ‘wait that's actually way too tight’ squeeze. 

Your eyes shot back open but you tried to keep your cool, your hands instinctively reaching up to grab at his wrist.

Apparently, Daryl didn't like that. 

He suddenly had your back pressed against the wall of the living room with movements so quick and precise it made your head spin. You looked up at his face, lit with a dim blue light from the windows, searching for any signs that would be cause for panic. 

He decided to give you that reason you were looking for, and wrapped his hand around your neck again.

For once, Daryl wasn't fighting some internal battle on if he should kill you or not. 

He'd made the decision as soon as he crept in the window and saw you standing in the living room, facing the front door and biting at your nails. 

That decision wasn't final, though, you had the power in your hands to change his mind. 

Hopefully you'd be as lucky as you always were. 

He looked down at your face as he kept his one handed grip on your throat, burning the image in his mind. Your eyes were wide and full of this otherworldly beautiful fear, so much uncertainty it made his already hard cock twitch. 

Your hands were still on his wrist, as if it gave you some sort of control, something he found endearing. You still trusted him, you still thought you had a chance to regain the control you thought you had this whole time.

“This what you wanted?” He breathed, looking from your eyes to your lips. Your face had turned a shade darker from his grip, your lips turning a pretty hue of red. “Wanted me to hunt you down, and then what? Huh?”

He watched for your reaction, waiting to see how you'd play the hand you'd been dealt, and to his pleasant surprise you managed to nod. 

Daryl's hand loosened just enough to send the blood back to your head and you sucked in a deep breath, before letting out a trembling whimper. 

His lips twitched into a soft smirk, and he dipped his head down to press his lips against yours. You kissed him hungrily, swallowing the growl from his throat as your bare knee pressed against the aching bulge in his jeans. You moved it in firm circles, and he decided that earned a returned gesture.

He used his knee to roughly spread your thighs before giving you the same treatment. The whine that drew from your lips, and the way your eyes rolled back in your head, had him letting out a deep groan. He ground his knee up between your legs, long enough to feel the wetness seeping from your panties and through his jeans. 

You didn't get a chance to tell him about the bed you'd cleaned upstairs for this. Which was unfortunate, given you'd gone out of your way to do so, not that he would've cared anyway. 

He grabbed your shoulder and spun you around, fingers finding the zipper of your dress and unceremoniously pulling it down to your ass. Your heavy breathing fueled his desire and he grabbed a fistful of your hair before yanking your dress down with his other hand so fast it burned. 

With the grip he had in your hair he forcefully guided you onto the floor, releasing you only to settle between your thighs and slide his hands up your bare chest to his favorite part of you. 

You got that look on your face again. Lust blown pupils, breathing softly through your mouth. You still hadn't figured it out yet, that you could very easily be in danger. 

This time he used both hands. 

A yelp got choked from your throat as he squeezed, allowing himself a few seconds to please himself. The white of your eyes turned a light pink at the edges, a few beads of tears forming there as well, the sight making his dick throb. 

He released your neck and you gasped, sucking down lungfuls of air as your head spun. You felt like you were on a carousel the way you got so dizzy. 

While you regained your bearings he unbuckled his belt and took out his dick, his right hand wasting no time in giving himself relief. You took the opportunity to slide off your panties, and when he saw the glistening of your wet folds in the deep blue lighting he growled. The sinful sound earned a whimper from you, and he refocused on your face to see a pitiful look of impatience.

Daryl switched to stroking himself with his left hand, and guided the tip up through your slick folds. He savored the way you looked then, biting your bottom lip as you prepared yourself. 

Instead of giving the satisfaction he pulled his tip back and carried on fucking his hand. As soon as your eyes opened and you went to protest, his free hand went right back to your neck.

He loved the way you looked then, desperate and pathetic, so full of frustration it leaked out through tears in your eyes. He squeezed hard, completely cutting off blood and air to your brain, tugging his dick faster as you squirmed.

Daryl lifted up his knee to pin one of your thighs to the floor in an effort to keep you still. He took his hand away from his cock and spit in his palm, wasting no time in getting back to touching himself. 

He could've easily come right there. If he wanted to, he could keep squeezing just a few more moments, and your squirming would've stopped. He could spill his load on your stomach and effortlessly slip into his cleanup routine, but aside from the fact that part of him didn't really want to kill you, the way you orgasmed had him fucking frozen.

He hadn't even touched you, but you came. 

Your eyebrows scrunched together and the leg he didn't have pinned down wrapped around his waist, your hips rolling in a desperate attempt to get friction against your clit. He relaxed his hand from your throat and you let out this bubbly whimpering sound that made his hips instinctively jerk forward. 

Daryl watched you, holding his breath without realizing it. She just came from you chokin’ her. The words repeated over and over in his mind as you rode out the last waves of your orgasm. 

He had to snatch his hand away from his dick to keep his own orgasm at bay. Not yet, not a chance in hell, not after you just did that. You deserved something for showing him the hottest thing he never would've thought possible.

His body went on autopilot. He slid down from your body, planting kisses in a trail from your neck to your naval, down to your thighs, then back up again. He buried his face between your legs, not giving you a moment's notice or time to recover. He swirled his tongue around your clit, grazing his teeth against it before sucking it between his lips.

You bucked against him like a wild horse, the stimulation so much your body didn't know how to react. It was desperate, finally getting some stimulation, but you'd just had a world shattering orgasm only seconds before. He wrapped his arms under your thighs and pulled you down against his mouth again, his grip tight to keep you from squirming away again. 

The only control you had was your ability to choose what to do with your hands. Your fingers wrapped around clumps of his hair, winding up so tight it made his scalp burn. 

He growled in response and took your clit between his teeth, holding it there as a stern warning, only letting it go when you stopped pulling so damn hard.

If he had the power to freeze time for everything but the two of you, he would've eaten your pussy for hours. But he settled on just long enough to pull another orgasm from you, sliding the tip of his tongue from your throbbing clit to the new trail of slick cum dripping out of you. 

Daryl didn't give you time to recover from that one either. As soon as your cry faded out he flipped you on your back, ignoring the yelp of protest you made when your hip bones dug into the hard floor beneath you. 

The only warning he gave you before shoving his cock into you was a quick slide of his swollen tip between your puffy folds. Just right enough to lubricate the head, and then he drove it in.

The way you groaned in pain from the stretch almost made him cum right there. He stilled inside you, not for you to adjust but for him to fall back away from the edge. The benefit to you was just lucky. 

“Fuck.” It was the first time in a while that he'd spoken, and it was solely due to the way your hot plush walls squeezed his dick like a fist. 

He should've known you'd feel like that, he hadn't seen you with a man the entire time he'd known you. His chest shuddered with his ragged breaths, and once he was ready he put both hands flat on your upper back. He put his weight there, keeping him upright so he could lift his hips and fuck his dick into you with all his weight.

Your arms slid out in front of you, your hands grasping for something, anything, you needed something to hold onto.

He wouldn't grant you that kindness either. He rested his knees back on the floor on either side of your thighs and grabbed your arms, bending them painfully behind you. When he held your wrists together at the base of your spine he started fucking you again. 

Each rough snap of his hips drove a whiney moan from you. He liked that a lot, it sounded similar to a different type of crying, and he slowed down to keep his dick from getting friction burns. While you used the opportunity to squirm under him in an attempt to get more comfortable he spit on his fingers, letting it drip onto the base of his cock before changing positions once again.

He moved your arms up over your head and laid down on top of you, the weight of him pressing down on your back pushing all the air from your lungs. 

Your check rubbed against the floor as he started thrusting again, this time settling on a new pace, rough and fast despite the fact he barely drew his dick out. If he wasnt fucking you so roughly, the feeling of his head resting against yours would’ve given you butterflies. You became acutely aware of the closeness, there wasn't an inch of space between your bodies, and every grunt and groan he made had his lips brushing up against the side of your ear.

He used his hips to grind his dick inside you, the new motion drawing filthy gasps and whines from you from the way his tip seemed to roll and dig into each and every crevice inside you. You'd never felt anything like that before, so used to the normal thrusting. He only pulled back about an inch, rolling his hips in a way that had you shamelessly moaning. 

Daryl moved your hair from the back of your neck, pushing it up and away before leaning down to dig his teeth into the skin right at the base of your neck. He bit hard, something you didn't expect, and you cried out in pain, your body jerking under him. 

It was hard for you to breathe with his full weight on your back. The heat of his body gave you uncomfortable hot flashes, adding to the sweat you'd already made. Your hair stuck to your forehead and you made an attempt to push it off, which was made difficult when he changed paces once again.

He started drawing out further now, but he'd just drive back in harder, faster, causing your body to grind roughly against the wood floor. The skin over your hip bones started to burn as well as your nipples, something you found almost agonizing but shamefully pleasurable at the same time. 

He fucked you like that until you came for the third time, now around his dick. He pushed himself off your back and used his hands on your shoulders to keep you pinned down, watching as he breathed through his mouth at the way his cock disappeared inside you. 

You were lucky he felt like a new position. 

He waited until you stopped writhing under him from your orgasm before grabbing your thigh to turn you on your back. 

Relief washed over you as the pain in your hip bones faded, only to have that relief taken from you when he grabbed your waist and yanked you up and off the floor. 

Your feet didn't even touch the ground, your body swaying as you tried to get a sense of gravity, Daryl's hands tight on your sides as he took you to the couch. 

All you could do at that point was relax and let him move your body for you, your hands shaking against your chest as he sat you on the arm of the couch. You let him push you down on your back, your ass and legs dangling over the arm for a few dizzying seconds before he grabbed your legs and held them around his waist. 

Daryl pushed his dick back in your abused pussy and groaned, gripping your thighs tighter so he could pull you closer to him.

Your back arched almost uncomfortably, your hips angled up against his pelvis, the only part of your back that touched the cushions of the couch ended up being your shoulders. You were thankful you could at least breathe now. 

Daryl was skilled at taking small bits of relief like that away. 

He leaned down and bit your already sore nipple so hard and so suddenly you nearly shouted. Your hands instinctively went to grab his hair for support, but he leaned back and your fingers fell from his face. 

He was proud of the new angle. Your pelvis tilted up and him fucking down into you sent him as deep as possible, and soon he began fucking you rough enough that it bordered closely on too painful. 

Lucky for you, you liked it. Your walls burned pleasurably from the dragging of his dick, and he started speaking again. 

“Look at you, dirty little whore.” He teased as he looked down at your abused body with a grin. Your nipples and hips were red from him fucking you into the floor, your neck equally as red from the force of his hands. 

Your sweet, sweet pretty face, twisted up in a mix of pleasure and pain, your cheeks red, your lips swollen, streaks of black makeup running down your face. The sight made him seriously consider picking up drawing, because that look was, without a doubt, the best thing he'd seen in his entire life. 

“Daryl,” You finally plucked the courage to speak to him and he raised a brow, impressed, he'd gotten used to you taking it so well without any complaints. “Too much.” Your voice broke as you whined, another orgasm bringing you to shambles. 

He snorted as he watched you come around his dick yet again, your words asking for mercy but your body clearly asking him otherwise. 

“You can take a little more, yeah?” Even he was becoming spent, his heart banging in his chest so hard he could hear the blood in his ears. He slid his hands down your sweaty chest to your breasts, his dick twitching inside you at the way you cried when he pinched that same sore nipple. 

“I don't know,” Another wave of shivers overcame you, eliciting exhausted, long and shaky whines. Your body couldn't process going a little under two years with little to no sexual activity, and then suddenly being mind numbingly overstimulated with the most exhilarating sex you'd ever had in your life. Each time you thought you'd gotten used to it he'd pull the rug out from under you, either by causing pain or giving you more pleasure that you knew what to do with. 

As if on cue you felt his flattened hand smack the side of your face, demanding your focus. Your eyes struggled to find him, your vision fuzzy and wobbly, but when you looked up and saw him your heart fluttered. 

“Look at me. C'mon.” He didn't want you passing out on him, that took all the fun away. 

Despite the obvious fact he had a clear disregard for your comfort or discomfort, the way he was looking down at you sent butterflies through your stomach and chest. His pupils were so blown with lust that you couldn't see the pretty color of his eyes, and his eyelids were heavy with the approach of his orgasm. His lips, glistening from the way his tongue had darted out to wet them, parted as he huffed in ragged breaths. 

You could tell if he had a picture of you like this, he'd be reacting the same way with just his hand. The thought had a moan bubbling past your lips. 

“C'mon.” His hips snapped forward roughly, jerking in a break from his steady aggressive rhythm. You cried out from that, your hands finding the sides of his dangling belt to grab onto like the reins of a horse.

He'd held back his orgasm as long as he could, but the sight of you shaking and trembling under him, exhausted and overstimulated, he couldn't last much longer. Your face twisted in discomfort as he fucked you faster again, your hips suddenly doing their best to wiggle up and away from the frenzy of his dick. 

You'd managed to get a few short moments of relief, sliding backwards until his dick nearly slid out.

His upper lip curled in disbelief, and he shook his head, scoffing at you. “Don't be a baby, you can take it.” You were yanked back down on his dick, the sensation of being forced back into overstimulation had you moaning in distress. 

You nodded your head feverishly, setting your jaw as you looked up at the ceiling, trying your best to keep it together. But each time his hips would ram into yours it made his crotch slam against your clit, and it got too much, your breathing sped up as the panic of overstimulation set in. You really tried then, actually tried to wiggle away, and to your surprise, and much needed relief, he stilled his hips. 

You were expecting him to maybe find a better way to restrain you, or put you in a position you couldn't move from, but he just used the moment to catch his breath before his demeanor changed completely.

“Hey, hey, shh.” The sweetness in his tone made you whimper, your eyes falling closed as he comforted you. It felt so fucking good, you found yourself willing to do anything and everything to feel that tenderness some more. “Yeah, that’s it. Good girl.” He cooed as your breathing slowed and your fingers stopped shaking.

Daryl released your thighs and with unexpected ease, he slipped his hands under the arch in your back, picking you up and moving so he could sit down on the couch, keeping you stuck on his cock the entire time. 

The new position of being on top sent a fresh wave of pleasure flipping in the bottom of your stomach, the tip of his dick pressed right at the end of your walls.

It wasn't painful like you'd felt before when your cervix was accidentally hit too hard, quite the opposite, the feeling of pressure was so strangely good you found yourself pushing down with all your weight, desperate to feel more. 

Daryl tossed his head back with a grunt at the feeling, taking his bottom lip between his teeth and biting it. His hands took their place on your hips, his fingers digging deep into the soft skin there. 

He'd only switched to this position because his legs were getting unsteady, but the way you looked above him was something he didn't expect to enjoy as much as he did. 

He took a second to catch his breath before he planted his boots firmly on the floor, pressing his back against the couch, and when he was perfectly leveraged he used his hands to keep your waist hovering above him, using the angle to fuck his dick up into you so hard you immediately came again. 

The way you came for the fourth time made his jaw drop. 

He watched you through heavy lidded eyes, taking in every second of it as he breathed through his open mouth. The way your face tensed up in twisted concentration, and then the way it dropped as you fell apart, your mouth falling open with a guttural moan that put every single goddamn porn video he'd seen to shame. Your eyebrows scrunched together, your mouth hung open in such a beautiful ‘O’, he broke. 

He let go of your waist so your full weight would slam down on his cock and he came, his head tilted back against the couch, his dark hair falling away from his face. 

You watched his face the same way he'd watched yours, rolling your hips down against him as you drew out every wave of the strongest orgasm you'd ever had. He looked fucking beautiful. You'd do everything in your power to get him like this again, but this time with your camera. 

His orgasm literally shook him. He clenched the skin over your hips in a tight grip, using it to keep you as tight as possible against him. In those few seconds his mind went blank, almost devolving him into an animal. Those instincts wanted to keep you there on top of him, so he did, rolling his pelvis to fuck his cum deeper into you. 

Daryl held you there until way after he came down from his high, only releasing his grip on your skin when he felt his dick grow soft. 

You couldn't move off him if you tried. Your legs felt like you'd lost all muscle mass, same with your arms. Your body slumped forward and you fell against his chest, your nipples burning as they rubbed against his shirt and vest. 

His arms wrapped around your torso, squeezing your body tight against his, his hips giving a few last weak rolls up against you. 

It took you both a while to catch your breath, the mouth breathing leaving the two of you uncomfortably thirsty. 

He made the first move when he realized you couldn't, and he slid your body off of his into the seat beside him. He sat there for a few more seconds before he carefully put his tender dick back in his pants. 

His belt buckle clinked noisily as he fastened it, his fingers shaky and inaccurate.  He watched as you slowly rose to your feet and grabbed your panties, the rising and falling of his chest gradually slowing. 

The sight of you struggling to climb into your dress had him feeling a smug sense of satisfaction. He chewed on the skin around his thumb, watching you slip your feet into your boots before you leaned against the wall next to the front door. 

You looked at it and faltered, realizing that the two of you had been pretty loud. When you looked back to him with a concerned expression you were just met with an uncaring smirk, the man now on his feet and wiping the sweat from his face with the top of his shirt. He grabbed his crossbow from the floor and flung it over his shoulder before leading you back home.

@ophelialaufey

[reikoknshii]

🩸 Scarlet...Milk? 🥛(pt.2)

[This was heavily requested 😭 but i love y'all and have this ❤]

(Words: 1.3k)

"I'm watching you....."

Was written in the note, you stumbled back as you look ahead of the building that leads to the metal doors. The bloody doppelganger staring at you before disappearing in the blink of an eye.

You're being stalked...

Out of fear you rushed to your apartment after closing the main gates of the building.

'would that mean that doppelganger will be aggressive?..'

You think as you paced around in front of your apartment, it was the second floor apartment near Nacha's room. You sat down on your doorstep frustrated and nervous, if you messed up he will kill Francis...not only Francis, mostly anyone in the building-

"Y/n?" A soft and gentle tone asked as you turn your head to see Nacha's peeking out of her apartment room. "Miss Nacha- did i disturb you?"

"No, not at all..i just heard you groaning and pacing around, you seem down in the slumps"

"Ah..well, is it okay?-"

"I dont mind, come in we can talk about it"

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚

"Thats why...." You said softly explaining the whole incident that had happened as you averted your eyes to someplace , while Nacha takes in all the information. "I don't really get this doppelganger thing, but you seem like a lovely and kind person Y/n.."

"We appreciate you and your doorman duties, remember to take care of yourself whenever" Nacha said as she smiled at You, your venting didn't include your growing admiration for the milkman because well...

From what you know Nacha is Francis ex-wife and its hella awkward to tell her you had a crush on her ex-husband.

"Your muffins are good-" You said breaking away from the topic as you took a bite from the blueberry muffin she offered earlier when you entered her house.

"Why thank you, i baked them with Anastacha" Nacha said happily as she went to the fridge. "would you like some milk? I bought this, funny looking thing-" Nacha said as she pulled out a red bottle of...'Scarlet milk'

You choked on your muffin and soon recovered, you immediately rushed to Nacha and grabbed the bottle.

"Dont"

"D-dont?" Nacha asked confused as you took the bottle and examine it. "its a bottle of blood, where do you get this-"

"It was left by the main gates-"

"Nacha...I'm not crazy, do not..receive the scarlet milk next time" Nacha eyes were wide as she nodded to your statement. "Y/n perhaps you should get an eye shut for tonight? Y-you seem shaken-"

"I'm..." You inhaled as you let go of her shoulders. "Maybe i should" you said sorry as you made your way out of Nacha's apartment room.

"Sweet dreams, Y/n" Nacha said as you closed the door gently.

You stared at the bottle of blood on your hands as your eyebrows furrowed at it. "I'm not delusional..." you said to yourself as you threw away the Scarlet milk into the trash bin.

You went into your apartment for some sleep.

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚

You didn't manage to sleep at all, you keep hearing voices at night telling you to let them in.

'Y/n..'

Go away..

'Y/n!'

"GO AWAY!" you screamed as you stood up from your bed, it was 5:30 am in the morning.

"Y/n?" A familiar voice asked outside of your apartment door. "Francis?" You asked softly as you stood up from your bed.

You opened your door to see the Milkman all in his glory and uniform. "You alright? You screamed and i heard it from outside" he said as he stared at you with his tired eyes.

"Y-yeah..yeah I'm alright"

"You look..frightened" He stated as he noticed it from your appearance. "I'm fine Francis"

"Just a nightmare.."

"You hear them too?" Your eyes went wide as you stared at him. "What?"

"...mm..nevermind, maybe you should get ready..Ill head to work now, the milk dont deliver themselves" he muttered as he went ahead to the elevator.

"S-see you..." You were filled with mixed emotions, what does he mean 'you hear them too?' .

Is that why he's sleep deprived? At least you're not alone...

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚

You started another day of your shift as you opened the metal covers. "Dont let this be weirder than usual" you muttered to yourself as you turn to the gates to see the yellowish eyes.

You dropped your keys and rubbed your eyes , wondering if you're seeing it right.

The eyes were gone...

"There's nothing..nothing at all-" you said to yourself to reassure, and went to your office.

...

The day went weirder, doppelgangers are trying to get in more frequently than usual. It was stressing, doppelgangers get angrier each time they're caught and you feared for your life and the apartments residents life.

"I'm okay.."

'I'm okay' you said to yourself as you keep going, you feel like breaking down. One wrong decision all blame will be pointed at you, and you alone..

"Mmm...Hello" Francis said tired as usual entering the hall in front of your office.

"Francis-" you said as he showed you his papers. "You alright Y/n?"

"J-just...overwhelmed" you answered as you checked his information.

"Mm...take a rest after this"

"I-i should..." You said softly as you opened the metal door for him to get in.

"Mm...Hello"

What...

Your eyes went wide as you stared at the second Francis. "You're a doppelganger-"

"What...?"

"Stop playing with me!" You said frustrated and angry. "Y/n you need to calm down...i just got off from my delivery shift"

Oh no..

Oh noo..

"Francis?!" You cursed under your breath and let him in your office. "Whats happening-" the milkman asked confused and exhausted from work.

"Stay in here- dont leave" you said as you grab your walkie talkie. "Press the emergency button and call D.D.D. when i page you through this" you explained as you hand him the spare device.

"Okay.."

"Please...be safe" you said as you closed the metal covers and door on your way out of the office, you went in the apartments and hit the emergency button to immediately alert the residents to close their rooms.

"You're no fun at all..." Said the doppelganger by the end of the hallway holding the tray of Scarlet milk.

"And you're a threat" you said as you pulled out your gun that was given to you by the D.D.D. services. He rushed to you as he tackled you down on the ground, bottles of Scarlet milk shattered on the way he dropped it near you staining both of your uniform and his.

"I told you ill get back at you" he said hungrily as his tongue licked your face. You kicked his stomach and crawled to the direction where you dropped it, but he stepped on your hand and laughed at you.

"No one would remember you" he started as he presses his foot on your hand making you scream in pain. "They'll see you as a crazy security that let in a threat"

"Oh yeah?" You managed to blurt out. "That doesn't matter, i bite" you said as you bit into his ankle Making him step back and let out a frustrated groan.

"FRANCIS-" you page into your walkie talkie. "CALL D.D.D. NOW--"

You grabbed the gun but the doppelganger kicked you to the nearest wall. "You protect their lives but who will protect you?"

He walked to you with one of the Scarlet milk. "No one.." He grabbed your face as he smiled, his eyes were empty as he forced the bloody bottle into your mouth.

You pulled the trigger of your gun thats pointed on his shoulder and shot him.

He screeched in pain as his face start to distort into a monster form of creature that you fear to see. His form rapidly changing as he charged back at you only for you to shoot him twice on his head.

He fall down on the floor, his blood and yours everywhere on the hallway of the 1st floor.

Your eyes were heavy and your head hurts, soon enough you passed out...

[vinceaddams]

@mxbuster replied to your post “Being a part time alterations tailor may be a very...”:

Omg you are amazing. If you ever want to do a tutorial…….

​Sorry for the delay, I put the photos in a folder on my desktop and immediately forgot they existed.

Alrighty, here is how I shorten modern jacket sleeves.

First I should note that:

I work for a suit store that doesn't take very many outside alterations, meaning almost everything I alter is from the same few brands and I'm used to a specific construction. Other jackets from other brands may have different construction, but it shouldn't be too wildly different.

All the jackets I work on have false buttonholes, or none at all. If you've got one with functional buttonholes (statistically unlikely, but not impossible) you're kind of screwed, unless you need to shorten it by so much they'll all be turned to the inside.

The amount you need to shorten it by should already be marked on the sleeve, or you should have a measurement written down. The salesmen leave a little chalk line for me.

Start by cutting the buttons off. (Both this shop and my previous job use razor blades for this kind of thing, so I can only assume it's common in the professional tailoring world.)

Then turn the sleeve inside out. There will probably be a section on the lining seam where the 2 edges have been topstitched closed. Carefully pick this out with a seam ripper on both sleeves. If it doesn't have this, just open a section of the seam, but not too close to the end of the sleeve.

Often the sleeve lining will be tacked to the outer sleeve's seam allowance in a few places, and you can cut these if they're in the way.

Now you can easily pull out the threads that were holding the buttons on, and can remove the false buttonholes if there are any.

Most of the buttonholes on the jackets I do at work are chain stitch, which means they're easy to pull out quickly once you get one end loose and can un-chain them, but some of them aren't and take a lot longer. I especially hate the ones on the sport coats that have a little contrasting bar tack at the end, those ones are the WORST and take forever to pick off.

There's a seam holding the ends of the lining and outer fabric together. Cut it off.

On jackets with a particularly loose fabric there may be a bit of blindstitching around here holding the end up, same as there is inside a dress pants hem, and you should remove this first. It's big and loopy on the inside and you can find the end and pull on it to make it come apart, just like the string on a potato bag.

There's probably also a bit where the edge of the jacket sleeve is stuck in place with a bit of fusible tape, so pull that apart. Cut through the threads where the seam allowance is sewn to itself, and pick apart the seams that form the corners of the vent.

(I use the razor blade for this too, by pulling the 2 halves of the seam in opposite directions and cutting the threads in between, but you'll probably want to use a seam ripper.) Don't cut the top part of the seam on the vent though, that bit where the seam allowance juts out to provide extra material for the overlap should still be sewn shut, as you can see at the top of the photo below.

Turn the sleeve back right side out and mark the new line all the way around. At work I mainly use wax chalk which disappears as soon as you iron it, but regular chalk works too, it'll just take a bit more work to brush it all off after.

Press out all the creases from the old seams at the corners. (I have to be careful not to get steam on my wax lines, or else they'll disappear.)

Now press the end of the sleeve in and make the new crease. Sometimes I press out the old crease first, if it's far enough away from the marked line, but sometimes not.

I like to press both layers of sleeve at once in the middle, avoiding squishing the sides, and then I press each of those side bits using this little dense pillow thingy we have at work. It's kind of like a tailor's ham but small. You could easily make one and fill it with scraps, it's a useful thing to have. Make sure the overlap & underlap are facing the correct way.

I then straighten out the sleeve and see how the lining length looks. The end of the lining is usually quite wrinkled, so I press it first.

Here the lining is barely protruding, so I didn't trim anything off, but if there's more than about 1.5 cm sticking out past the sleeve then I'll trim that excess off.

Turning the sleeve back inside out, trim any excess off the folded up bit. I try to keep this bit about 4.5 cm wide, so this one just needed a little bit removed.

At this point you may want to add a bit more fusible interfacing to the button area, but it usually goes pretty far up, so I only do this if I'm shortening the sleeve by a LOT. (And if I'm shortening it by that much then there probably isn't enough overlap left to redo the vent.)

Now there should be creases showing where the new vent corners will be. On the underlap side I mark a little + right where I'll start sewing there.

And on the overlap side (the one with the mitred corner) I mark a diagonal x and then draw a line over the whole corner with a ruler, like so.

That is NOT your stitching line!!

This corner isn't perfectly square, it's a slightly wider angle. So when I fold that corner right sides together and match up the lines I start sewing from the tip of that marked line at the fold, but I veer off at a slight angle (in the direction of the seam allowance) and end about 4 mm out from it.

It's not very clear in the below picture, but you can hopefully see it.

Flip those 2 corners right side out, turn the whole sleeve right side out again, and press those corners nice and flat. I use the little sleeve pillow for this too.

Then you can pin the overlap shut just the way you want it to sit, turn it inside out again, and carefully re-pin it so the pin is on the inside, before removing the first pin.

(I actually skip this step and just pin it from the inside and go straight to the rest of the sewing up, and then press the corners after the lining is closed up, but I've done hundreds of these at this point so you'll probably want to do it this way.)

Sew the two halves of the vent together so that it'll stay closed. Just a tiny spot of backstitching on the seam allowances, like so.

Now you can match up the ends of the lining and outer sleeve and reattach them. I always start with the seam opposite the vent, since the vent side doesn't line up precisely.

I put them together like this, right side to right side, and pull those ends out through that opening in the lining before pinning it closed.

Then sew it, starting and finishing on either side of the vent.

There will likely be a small gap between the ends of the seam, since the vent is in the way, but this doesn't matter.

On the non vent side, clip into one of the seam allowances right below the seam.

Fold that seam allowance right sides together, keeping the rest of the sleeve out of the way, and sew it to itself. This is the same bit of stitching you removed earlier in the process, and it helps to keep the end of the sleeve from sagging.

If the seam allowances are too small or frayed you can also just turn it back right sides out and stick a bit of fusible tape in there.

Stuff everything back so that it's right sides out but the sleeve itself is still inside out, and redo that topstitching on the linings. (Or do it for the first time if there wasn't any. You may want to press the lining first if you don't have two nice creased edges.)

If this is your own personal nice jacket you might prefer to slipstitch it closed by hand, or to instead machine sew it closed from the inside and hand sew the lining back to the end of the sleeve, but I'm obviously not going to do that for my very low paying alterations job.

Turn the sleeve right sides out, sew the buttons back on, and you're done!

Nice mitred corner and all!

The first time I did this it took me over 2 hours because I didn't know what I was doing, but 5 years later I've got it down to about 45 minutes.

If the sleeve needs to be shortened by so much that there isn't enough overlap material left to redo the vent, then I just sew it shut and fold the whole thing up. I have to add new interfacing behind the buttons, as mentioned. For this I also need to turn it back right side out before I close up the lining, so I can stick the not-vent-anymore area to itself with some fusible tape.

Sometimes I have to lengthen sleeves, and for that the process is fairly similar, except of course I have to carefully unpick the seam at the end of the sleeve instead of cutting it off, and I sew an extra strip of fabric to the end. (I keep a box of cut off ends from some of the pants I've hemmed for this.)

For that you also need to use fusible tape for both seam ends, because when you've added an extra bit on you can't sew the seam allowance to itself. The amount you can lengthen a sleeve by is limited, since you need to make sure the new piece of material is entirely folded to the inside and out of view.

I hope this helps and makes sense!

[exhaslo]

I love your stories it feels like I'm actually in it, I mostly like Mafia Miguel x shy reader.... But anyway if you seen Jennifer's body i can see Miguel being Jennifer and the reader being his friend. If you're taking requests may I have Jennifer's body au with Miguel O'Hara x reader? Thank you. 🥰😍 The ending ended up being together can add smut as well to it?

I actually never seen that movie because I am a wimp when it comes to anything horror, except animal horror. Place Jaws in front of me anyway and I'm down. But, I read a quick summary of the movie and I will make some small changes, you know, to sastify our needs haha.

Also, so sorry this was late. I'm still catching up to last month's requests!!

Warning: MINORS DNI, smut, p in v, murder, blood, possession, shower sex, oral (f recieving)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

You knew something was wrong.

You knew that something had changed.

But, what were you supposed to do? Miguel was your best friend and he meant everything. He was your world. The two of you had been together since you were young, to leave him as he was now, would be the worst thing ever.

Rewind a few weeks ago. You and Miguel were just chilling after work at a local bar. Your cheeks were flushed as Miguel kept buying the two of you drinks. It was frustrating how much you loved your best friend. He was just so perfect, both at work and outside.

Hearing a local band start to play, you leaned against Miguel, complaining to him about work. The night was pretty vague after that, but you did recall a fire and Miguel bringing you home. After that he disappeared for the night.

When you awoke the next day, you found Miguel passed out on the couch with what looked like blood on his clothes. You thought nothing of it since Miguel would never do something drastic or crazy like murdering someone. So, you assumed it was ketchup and proceeded to help Miguel out of his clothes.

"What would I do without you?" Miguel mumbled under his breathe as you took his shirt off.

"I don't know, stay in gross clothes?" You said with a chuckle and fixed his hair, "Go wash up. The girls at work will go crazy over this bed hair of yours."

Miguel grunted and playfully used you to stand. You laughed and whined towards him, finishing up for work. The two of you shared a place only to help you with you rent. Miguel was perfectly fine with his own place, he was just helping you.

You first noticed something was off when you arrived at work that same day. Miguel was normal with you, but he had started to get flirty with some of your female coworkers. Miguel never payed any mind to any of them, so it kind of hurt to watch.

As the days went by, you couldn't help but notice some of your coworkers going missing. You tried to ask Miguel about it, but he just shrugged and reassured you that it was probably nothing. Of course, you wanted to believe him...but each of those girls who went missing were ones that Miguel flirted with.

"Miguel?" You called out, entering his lab. Miguel glanced towards you, his smile widening,

"(Y/N), climbed out of the library to see me?" He teased. You plopped yourself over Miguel, sighing heavily,

"Lemme vent for two minutes!" You whined, throwing your arms over his shoulders, "That jerk over in IT had the gal to ask me out on a date, Miggy! After he insulted my 'tiny' brain last week!" You huffed. Miguel felt his eye twitch as he pulled you onto his lap,

"Did you tell him no?" He asked, his tone getting a little harsher. You leaned against Miguel, pouting,

"Of course I said no..." You whimpered and crossed your arms, "He called me a dumb bitch after that...That all I do is..."

"Is what?" Miguel fixed you on his lap, wanting to hear the rest.

"Is...be your fuck toy..." You mumbled lowly.

Miguel felt his lips twitch into a smirk before pulling you into a hug. His warm embrace relaxing you while his mind started to race. Tonight was going to have a bitter taste compared to the rest. Once you were calmed down, Miguel stroked your cheeks,

"Don't pay any mind to him. Go home and order whatever you want with my card. I'll be there late."

"Miggy, you don't-"

"I want too," Miguel rested his forehead against yours, "We're best friends. Let me take care of you," He whispered.

--------

You should have known something was wrong. Miguel always had his barriers and lines, but he was willingly crossing all of them. It felt like you were getting closer to Miguel in a different light, and you weren't sure how to feel about it.

Waiting for Miguel to return home, you started to put away some of the food and clean. He did say that he was going to be late, but it was reaching midnight. It was nerve racking having to wait for him to return home.

"Ugh,"

You gasped upon hearing the door. Rushing over, you saw Miguel leaning over the counter, coughing into the sink. Grabbing a bottle of water, you hurried to Miguel's side and gasped at the sight. He was covered in blood and throwing up something black and icky.

"Miguel?! Are you alright?! Did you get hurt?!" You panicked, fixing his hair and checking his body. Miguel wavered in place and wrapped his arms around you,

"I'm fine...(Y/N)...Don't worry about me," He mumbled into your neck. You frowned, leading him to the bathroom,

"I have to worry about you, who else will?" You told him, setting the water, "What happened?"

"Nothing,"

"Please, Miguel. Let me be here for you," You nearly cried, using a soft wet rag to clean the blood around his face, "Please," You sobbed.

Miguel sighed heavily as he brought you against his chest. His breathing was staggered and heavy against your ear, using you as a sort of comfort. His grip tighten ever so slightly around your waist.

"I fucked up, (Y/N). I fucked up so bad," He whispered. You frowned and fixed his hair, "That night of the fire...I went after the assholes since you almost got hurt. I followed them into this alley and I don't know what the hell they were trying to do but...I ended up getting possessed by...something."

"Possessed?" You questioned. Miguel closed his eyes and nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck,

"I guess I was supposed to be a sacrifice or something? But, I didn't met the criteria and this demon took over. I'm always hungry, (Y/N), always." You felt a sudden chill run down your spine as Miguel's hands crawled up your back, "I can't stop...but when I'm with you, I can feel it relax."

"The demon?" You questioned. Miguel leaned back, fangs poking out of his teeth,

"I won't ever hurt you, (Y/N). I'll always protect you."

"Same, Miggy, but if you're in trouble...Please let me help you," You begged him once more.

Miguel inhaled deeply as you stroked his face once more. He lazily glanced towards you, leaning forward to kiss your lips. You made a small squeak as his hands kept you in place. Miguel grunted as he forced his tongue into your mouth, hungrily.

But not for flesh.

Lifting you up with ease, Miguel pressed you back against the shower wall, ignoring the running water. His groan rumbled against his throat as he started to feel your body lean into his. Miguel was hungry for you. You tasted so sweet against him.

"Miguel," You whispered, breaking the kiss. Miguel rested his forehead against yours, letting the water run down your soaked clothes,

"When I'm with you, I don't hunger for flesh," He whispered, wrapping your legs around his waist, "I want you...maybe...Just maybe, I won't have to suffer like this...if you let me have you."

You furrowed your brows with concern as Miguel spoke. Flesh? Right when you were going to ask him, Miguel captured your lips into another, rougher kiss. His hands pulling your shirt up, exposing your breasts underneath.

"Let me have you, (Y/N)," Miguel begged, kissing and sucking against your neck.

You felt your mind grow hazy as Miguel kept his antics. This was something you had always dreamed of. You tried to reply to Miguel, but moaned instead as he started to nipple and play with your breasts. You needed to ask him more about his demon.

"Mig-" You shivered as he started to rut into you, grunting and moaning with each grind.

"(Y/N), you're mine. Mine, only. I'll eat anyone who dares try to take you away from me," Miguel hissed, taking off your pajama pants.

"Miguel, w-what do you mean b-by eat?" You finally asked. Miguel glanced towards you once more, lifting your hips to his face, "W-Wait-"

You gasped and moaned loudly as Miguel's tongue started to swirl around your clit and pussy. Your hands gripped his hair as you arched your back, crying out in pleasure. Miguel's tongue was lapping up your juices hungrily, holding your hips in place.

You felt your core burn as you slowly moved your hips to Miguel's movements. Trembling as you felt his tongue enter your cunt, you cried out as you felt your orgasm approaching fast. Miguel hummed in response, slowly pulling away from your dripping pussy,

"This taste much better," He said with a groan before going back to suck on your clit.

"Ah~ Miguel~!" You cried out. Miguel watched you contort your face in pleasure, crying out his name,

"(Y/N), if I eat you like this everyday..." Miguel groaned as he lowered you, pressing your face against the shower wall, "Then I won't have to feast on others. I can feel it...the demon enjoying this too."

"M-Miggy," You whimpered softly.

"Let me devour you,"

You gasped and moaned as you felt Miguel shove his cock into you deeply. Tears began to roll down your cheeks from the sudden intrusion as he filled you to the brim. Your pussy convulsed around his dick, sucking him in as you cam heavily.

You tried to grip onto the shower wall, but it was no use. Miguel held your hips, pounding into your poor fleshy cunt. Your moans grew louder with each slap of his hips, feeling pure pleasure. The size of his dick was stretching you out, kissing every part of your pussy.

"(Y/N), you feel so good," Miguel grunted, slapping his balls against your clit with each thrust, "Thank you for this meal, I'll make sure to fill you up too," He said with a grunt.

You cried and moan as you cam against Miguel's dick. Your vision blurring as the shower water poured against your skin. Miguel's grunts and moans turning you on even more. You gasped as Miguel lifted you up, inserting himself again as he kissed you.

"Mhm~ Miguel~!" You cried, wrapping your arms around his neck. Miguel held you close, inhaling your scent as he fucked you stupid,

"I won't ever hurt you, (Y/N). Never," He repeated, watching you cream against his cock once more, "We're best friends, forever, right?"

"Yes! Yes!" You cried, trembling as you felt Miguel fill you with his cum, "Ah~ I-I help...c-control this..."

"Thank you, (Y/N)." Miguel hummed, kissing you in response.

By the time you recovered from the rapid sex session, Miguel went into more detail about what happened with him. You were terrified at first since now you knew that it was Miguel who killed your coworkers, but you also understood.

There was no curing Miguel. At least the two of you found out how to control the demon possessing him. Miguel didn't need to eat flesh anymore, all he needed was you.

"Fuck, more (Y/N), just once more." Miguel grunted as he fucked your pussy from behind, "I can't stand seeing another man get near you."

"Miguel~ Miguel~" You cried into the pillow, gripping the bedsheets under your. Miguel hissed lowly as he gripped your hips tighter, pounding your pussy a bit more harshly,

"Mine! Mine! Mine! If I can't fuck some sense into you, then I'll eat them," He hissed lowly. You cried out, cumming against his dick once more, milking him dry for his cum,

"I understand, Miggy~ Hah~ Hah~ O-Only I can ease your hunger," You whimpered lowly. Miguel kissed your back, giving you soft, gentle thrusts,

"I know, (Y/N). I know, don't mind me," He whispered, apologizing for his tone, "Thank you for the meal...now and forever."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Like I said, never watched Jennifer's Body, but hopefully this was okay and somewhat...what the movie wanted? Idk man, maybe one day I'll grow a pair and watch some horror movies.

Hope you enjoyed!!

[itsuki-minamy]

"LSW - EPILOGUE"

TRANSLATION: NARU-KUN

"Hey, Yata, did you know? Scepter 4 members live in dormitories."

That happened when he was eating with Totsuka at the bar counter. Totsuka suddenly said something as if he had always had an idea.

"What is this all of a sudden? I know... that guy told me."

Yata replied with a loud pout.

One day, half of the luggage suddenly disappeared from the room the two had been living in since the end of high school, and then moved into the Scepter 4 dorm, a statement that made him question his sanity. Was this the trick of the cat ears and earthworms?! He thought afterward as he stomped his feet.

Soon after, Yata also left that room. Every time he went to bed, he would notice the emptiness above his head and couldn’t help but feel nauseous.

"So, since it’s a dorm, does it have a dining room or something?"

"Eh? I don't know..."

"I wonder if he's eating enough food. You know, Fushimi is a picky eater, so I don't think there's much proper set menu in the cafeteria. What do you think, Yata?"

"I don't know! Why do I have to worry about the traitor's food?!"

When Totsuka continued to talk insensitively, Yata got angry and slammed his fist on the counter. The plate bounced off and the cup fell over, flooding the counter with water. Fortunately, Kusanagi wasn't there, so he was saved from punishment.

Totsuka looked surprised and took a step back. Feeling awkward, Yata looked down and pulled both fists, including the spoon in his right hand, out from under the counter.

He kicked the empty loft from below dozens of times above his head and fell headfirst onto his bed, clutching his legs and saying, "It hurts!" He yelled at himself... He just couldn't control his anger. He went crazy for a while, venting his anger outside of himself, but when he felt empty and stopped, something suddenly rose up in his throat and he felt an incomprehensible feeling of regret. Although he said he was sorry, he didn't know exactly what he was sorry for. However, for Yata, it was nothing more than a feeling of regret.

He regretted it. He grabbed a pillow and pressed it hard against his face, gritting his teeth so hard that his mouth cut and regretting it no matter what.

"Ah, if that guy changes his mind and apologizes, and says he wants to go back, we'll bow to Mikoto-san together. He's not the type to bow to anyone, so I'll bow to him, and if Mikoto-san doesn't feel satisfied unless he hit Saruhiko, then he'll hit me along with him."

"Well, if King really hits you, will Yata die?! Are you okay?!"

Totsuka was surprised at how over the top he was, so he flinched and said, "Ugh!" For Yata, coming into contact with Suoh's suspicions is scarier than any ghost story or horror movie.

"I... Still, I'm ready. I won't let Saruhiko get beaten up alone."

His voice was hoarse. However, he clenched his fist tighter, stared at the counter, and finished his sentence.

"Yeah, well, I think it's manly to be prepared for that, but isn't it a little one-sided? I wonder if that's what Fushimi wants."

"...? What do you mean? Don't say things like you already know them..."

He felt strangely angry and glared at him. Totsuka had a calm smile on his face as always.

"This is what King and the Blue King look like."

Then, he suddenly started talking again.

"It's not like they're just fighting each other like you think, Yata. Well, it seems like there's a lot going on in Fushimi's position, and it would be nice if we could talk someday... Even... If I say this now, Yata, you still don't get it, right?"

When he laughed at Yata, who asked indignantly, "Are you making fun of me?" Totsuka raised his hands in surrender and said, "Sorry, sorry."

"Well, remember what I said someday, somewhere. Even if I'm not there at that time."

"Hey, please don't say things like you're going to die someday. That brings bad luck."

When he said that in a particularly grumpy manner, Totsuka simply smiled.

++++++++++

No Blood, No Bone, No Ash!

No Blood, No Bone, No Ash!

No Blood, No Bone, No Ash!

As he excitedly waved his fists in the air, stamped his foot, and raised his voice, his surroundings became warm. Yata looked left and right with teary eyes.

He didn't know where they came from, but before he knew it, sparks were dancing all over the area.

It wasn't that... there was light. All around him, his friends were shaking their fists and chanting the same words in unison, and from each of their bodies light was born, like little lives separating. As if calling out to one another, the light gathered, dyeing the white landscape red as it rose into the sky covered in snow clouds.

"Ah..."

When he looked at his chest, he saw that the mark on his body was also exuding a soft red light.

Another light was born from within him and he let himself be carried away by the light of his companions.

He felt that Suoh's flame still resided deep within the mark that remained on his body. The flame filled his body with a gentle warmth. It was as if the fierce anger that Suoh had held within him as a wild king was dissipating and beginning to crumble.

"Mikoto-san..."

Following the light, Yata raised his tear-soaked face.

"No Blood, No Bone, No Ash! No Blood, No Bone, No Ash...!!"

He held the spot tightly and let out a loud voice as if to let go of the emotions welling up within him.

Looking up from there, he saw a line of armored vehicles with blue markings stopping on the railing of the bridge that connects Gakuenjima and the mainland. He saw a light gently floating above the bridge, moving away from the group of lights of his companions.

Fushimi was holding the same place as Yata with his hand, looking up at the sky with a strange expression on his face, as if he had lost some of his poison.

(Oh, shit...)

Yata cursed in his heart.

Why is he remembering that now? Totsuka-san, did he know he would leave one day? Was he talking about this moment?

Now that he can't do that again, he realized that he should have taken the plunge and asked Suoh what the Blue King meant to him.

He wanted to ask Totsuka what he really meant when he suddenly said something like that and said that Yata still didn't understand, but now that he can't do that again, he realized.

It's annoying for Yata to admit that, but if there's something that can help him, it's...

He's alive. They can still meet as many times as they want, express their doubts and anger, and try to talk.

"No Blood, No Bone, No Ash! No Blood, No... Idiot Monkey! No Ash!"

He doesn't know if he heard the insults mixed with his anger, but Fushimi glared at him.

The two exchanged glances on and off the bridge.

As everyone continued to chant in unison, Yata glared at Fushimi without taking his eyes off. He raised his voice even louder, intending to smash him into the bridge. He kept screaming even when his voice was hoarse, he pounded the ground even when he couldn't feel his legs anymore, and he kept swinging his fists even when he couldn't lift his arms.

[mathitas]

Leo Valdez x gn!reader

Leo falls in love with you, there’s only a problem: you’re his friend’s little sibling.

Percy established a rule for Leo: his sibling was off-limits.

Leo was good at many things, but following the rules wasn't one of them.

He usually fell in love at first sight, falling for the first attractive person he saw. Once he had made a fool of himself, he moved on to the next person.

But this time, it was different.

He knew that he had to keep his distance, but he soon realized that he saw in them everything he had always looked for. Leo found himself torn between his strong attraction to them and his loyalty to his friend. Every fiber of his being wanted to break the rule and give in to his feelings, but he knew that doing so would not only betray Percy but also risk destroying the bond they had. It was a constant battle between his desires and his sense of duty, leaving Leo in a state of inner turmoil.

They were essentially perfect for him: kind, laughed at his jokes, caring and simply stunning.

Soon he began to imagine them when he woke up at night from a nightmare, thinking of their voice comforting him, their hands stroking his hair, and wiping away his tears.

The more he thought about them, the more his heart ached. But he could only keep his distance and watch them from afar.

That way, he wouldn't make the situation worse, and when he finally met someone else who caught his attention, he wouldn't risk his friendship with Percy.

However, this never occurred. His heart still longed for them, even after almost a year. Every time they talked, every time they smiled at him, he couldn't help but feel horribly love-sick.

Everything worsened one day when, as everyone was singing and enjoying themselves by the campfire, he saw them running away from the crowd.

He looked at them, and before they could disappear from his sight, Leo stood up, excused himself, and followed them worriedly.

He stopped when he saw them lurking on the ground in front of the lake.

Leo didn't know whether to warn them of his presence; he didn't know how to behave around them.

He was awkward, conflicted between wanting to confess how much his heart ached for them and not betraying his friend.

When he heard them sob, he called out their name with concern.

They turned to him, blinking away the tears from their eyes.

“Leo, what are you doing here?”

"Is everything OK?"

Leo ran over to them, sitting down next to them. He wanted to place his hand on their shoulder to comfort them, but he stopped mid-air, still uncertain about it all.

They nodded, and Leo looked at them with a stern look, demanding the truth.

“It wasn't a good day; some Hermes kids thought it would be fun to make a fool out of me, and some Ares kids who keep on tormenting me decided to annoy me today, pestering me around! Being among all those people by the fire, I couldn’t take it anymore. That's why I came here. I always come here when I’m too overwhelmed."

Leo listened to them carefully, playing nervously with a ring he always kept on his finger.

Leo looked at them with empathy, and when he noticed another tear rolling down their cheek, he ran his thumb over it, wiping it away.

When he realized the gesture, his hand remained resting on their cheek, red from crying, and he quickly withdrew it, blushing from it.

They touched their cheek after he withdrew his hand.

“I’m sorry," they whispered.

"What are you apologizing for?"

"We don't know each other that well, and yet here I am venting to you."

"I wanted to check on you, so I really don’t mind…”

They smiled at him.

“You’re softer than you look."

"What?"

“You always try to act tough, but then you comfort me like that,” they laughed.

Leo's eyes lit up when he heard their laugh, and he smiled back at them.

“I don't want to act tough; I am tough,” he said proudly.

“Oh, so I'm your soft spot."

”Yes, you should be proud. Being the soft spot of the bad boy Leo Valdez is something to be quite taken accountable for."

They laughed again, and Leo was happy about it; that was his goal.

“Thank you,” they whispered.

Leo shrugged, admiring them.

Then Leo realized that was it. He was done. He would never get over them.

He held back a sigh and gave up on himself.

Even if he wanted to tell them, he knew they could never reciprocate his feelings; they could never like someone like him.

From that day on, they started looking for Leo more often.

They came to visit him in his workshop; they looked for him in the morning for breakfast and dinner before returning to their cabin.

Lately, Leo also felt Percy's gaze on him, which didn't fail to remind him of his rule over and over again.

A friendship was inevitably born between them, and Leo was really happy about it. He wanted nothing else but to be close to them.

Yet each time, his heart ached more and more.

How could a man want something so badly when he knew he couldn't have it?

Yet, in the midst of all this suffering, Leo discovered something new about himself. He discovered that, despite everything, he was willing to endure all this suffering, if only it meant he could be close to them, even just as a friend.

When one night in camp everyone was singing and having fun, they were sitting by the lake, as it had now become a habit for them.

They were silent, and Leo every now and then came out with a few jokes, yearning to hear them laugh.

They fell silent once again, but it was another kind of silence.

Leo turned to look at them and saw them nervously twisting their hands. While they were breathing heavily, they said, after a few attempts.

“Leo…”

"Yes?"

They tried to get the words out several times, but each time they froze, laughing nervously.

“Do you like Calypso?”

Leo's eyes widened.

"No, of course not! I liked her, but it's in the past! We weren't good together."

"Do you like someone else, then?"

Leo could feel his heart exploding in his chest.

"Why are you asking me this?"

"Answer me, please."

Leo could feel his own heartbeat, and he could feel his insides twisting anxiously.

He knew he wanted to forget about all the rules, to confess his love for them, and to have a chance with them.

What if they rejected him? Leo had never felt this way about anyone else; what would happen then?

"If you don't answer now, I don't know if I could keep on hanging out with you."

He stopped breathing for a second, his eyebrows furrowed, and his heart broke at the thought: What should he do? Could he still lie to them? Should he just tell them the truth for once?

They stood up, ready to leave, after Leo stared at them with wide eyes.

Leo came after them and stopped them, holding their arm.

When they turned around, they saw the desperate look on his face. They could see he was afraid of losing them.

“I like you more than you could ever imagine.”

His face was painful, then Leo took their hand and placed it on his chest.

His heart was pounding.

“I don't know what to do anymore; Percy is going to kill-“

They interrupted him once again, placing their lips on his.

One hand rested on his chest, feeling how his heart was beating for them, and the other caressed his face, and they could feel, under their touch, how tension faded from Leo’s face.

“If your brother finds out—”

They kissed him again, shutting him up.

“I am a dead man.”

They laughed and kissed again until it was time to return to their cabins.

The following weeks were crazy—the touches under the table when their brother wasn't looking, the kisses behind the cabins, the evenings at the lake—their secret was kept, but not for long.

Leo, one afternoon, during lessons on how to ride a pegasus, had taken them to a secluded place, and they exchanged kisses there.

Their hands were in Leo's curls, playing with them, and Leo was holding them by the waist and giggling between kisses until they interrupted him.

“We should seriously tell my brother before he finds out about us.”

“Are you sure he should know?”

”I should know what?”

Percy interrupted them.

”Fuck.”

They immediately separated, and there stood Percy with his arms crossed over his chest and an angry look on his face.

“You have to know that, well…”

"That? What? That you both lied to me?”

“Percy! We did it because you would react like this.”

”Reacted how? Like someone you just broke a promise to? Then you are right."

“You're overprotective; you can't control who I fall in love with.”

Percy remained silent, then continued.

“I just want to protect you.”

"I know you're scared."

"I do not trust him."

”Hey!” Leo yelled, offended.

“Leo is a good guy, and we like each other.”

He wrinkled his nose and looked angrily at Leo.

“You better accept it, because if you don't, I'll keep dating him in secret.”

Percy sighed, and Leo smiled fondly at them.

Then Percy looked at him and stopped smiling, becoming tense.

“If you hurt them—”

"I'll hang myself!"

Percy wanted to laugh, but he didn't, maintaining his big brother role.

“I'll keep an eye on you.”

“I love you, big brother,” they said, hugging their brother, who kept on sending dirty looks to his friend.

"I love you too." Percy answered, sighing once again, a little less worried than before.

[jamdoughnutmagician]

From Me to You.

Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Summary:Eddie finds a love letter pushed through his locker, and he’s determined to find out who his secret admirer is.

Warnings: Nothing that I can think of, just tooth-rotting Valentine’s day fluff! Slight use of "y/n" sorry I couldn't escape it!!

Word Count:1,867

Authour’s Note:My life is so devoid of any kind of romance, so I though what better way to resolve that than to write some cutesy Valentine’s Day fic with everyone’s favourite metal-head? Maybe I'm posting this a little early, but I'm pretty pleased with how this turned out (since I suck at writing fluff) and I wanted to share it!

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Eddie, oh no, that couldn’t be further from the truth. However, having to admit to your crush on your best friend? Well that was a whole other story.

So, your big plan was to leave little secret admirer notes in Eddie’s locker in the week leading up to Valentine’s day on Friday. It was an easy way to confess your love to him, without the sting of rejection coming to bite you in the ass.

The Monday after your last class you waved Eddie goodbye as he made his way to the drama room where the Hellfire club would be meeting for their latest campaign. Although you didn't share his love of Dungeons and Dragons, you were still as close as friends could be, only you didn't want to be just his friend.

Waiting for him to disappear out of sight, you look around to check the coast is clear before you slip the hand-written note into his locker. Pushing the folded up piece of paper through the vented slats in his locker, you make your way out of the school. 

All you have to do now is just have to wait until tomorrow to find out if your little secret mission was successful.

_______

Eddie strolled into school that Tuesday morning, opening up his locker to put away his things, but as he did so, a small folded up piece of paper fell to the floor. Piquing his curiosity, he bent down to pick up the paper. Unfolding it carefully his eyes scanned over the nice hand-written message inside.

Your smile is my favourite thing and it brightens my day 

He glances at the swirling joined up writing and how the little hearts dot the I’s and he finds his face warming with a blush.

“What’ve you got there then, Ed?”  Gareth asks noisily, causing the rest of the members of Corroded Coffin to turn their heads to their lead guitarist.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Eddie says defensively as he stuffed the note in his pocket.

Holding his hands up in surrender, Gareth dropped the subject and they guys went about the rest of their school day.

_______

The next day, Eddie goes to open his locker and surprisingly another note falls at his feet. 

Quickly he bends to pick it up before anyone notices that he’s received another note. Unfolding the paper he reads the message.

You give me butterflies

He reasons that it must be the same person that it was from yesterday, because the handwriting is exactly the same and the I’s are still dotted adorably with the same little hearts.

As quick as his hopes get up at the thought of someone writing him little love notes,his thoughts are pulled in the direction that this must be some sort of prank. It had to be, right? Why else would anyone leave the school’s ‘freak’ sweet notes like this if not for some kind of twisted joke. 

Jason Carver and his gang probably thought the idea that someone might have a crush on Eddie, laughable. Yeah, he thinks to himself, that sounds more plausible.

Speak of the devil.

Jason and his crew make their way past him laughing loudly and obnoxiously. Right, that's it. 

Eddie stormed up to Jason, poking an accusing finger in his face.

“I bet you think this is really funny, don’t you Carver?” 

“What do you want, freak?” Jason barks out.

“You, leaving those little notes in my locker.” Eddie jabs.

Eddie looks at Jason for a moment, a look of genuine confusion gracing the features of the basketball player, his brows knitted together, before he huffs out an incredulous laugh.

“In your dreams, Munson” Jason laughs in his face as he pushes past Eddie. 

Okay…So maybe this wasn’t a joke. Well who was sending Eddie anonymous love letters?

_______

I want to hold your hands and kiss your face

Another day, another note. Eddie was still none the wiser as to who exactly was putting these love letters in his locker. Right, he thought to himself, he was going to need some help if he had any chance of finding out who this secret admirer of his was. 

Strolling through the doors of Family video, Eddie had decided to recruit the help of the only person he could think that would actually be of any help to him. Even if it did mean that he would have to show all the notes he’d received with Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.

“Wait, so let me get this straight. You’ve been getting anonymous love letters put in your locker?” Steve asks

“Well..yeah?” Eddie answers.

“...And you’re absolutely sure you have no idea who this is?” Steve presses.

“Well at one point I thought Carver was doing it, you know, for a joke..but I confronted him about it yesterday and that turned out about as well as you can imagine” Eddie explains

“Do you have some that you want it to be?” Steve quizzes, as he watches the metal-head’s expression change instantly, flushing scarlet rising from his chest to his cheeks and the tips of his nose. “Aha!” -Steve exclaims, jabbing his finger towards Eddie- “So you are thinking of someone then?”

Luckily, Eddie was saved from the embarrassment of admitting to his crush on one of his best friends by Robin interrupting his and Steve’s conversation.

“What are you two dorks gabbing about over there?” She shouts making her way from the back of Family video where she was rearranging a stack of horror films.

“Munson here has got himself a secret admirer.” Steve says, cocking his thumb towards Eddie. “Said he’s been getting these little love notes slipped in his locker” Steve continues with his teasing.

“Oooh!! Let me see ‘em!!” Robin squeals excitedly.

Scattering the piece of paper out onto the countertops, the boys watch as Robin reads through each of the messages. Her eyes scan over the words, and her eyebrows draw together, and her expression one of surprise.

“You alright over there, Rob? You look like you’ve seen a ghost, which considering what we’ve been through, is the last thing that should have you looking like that.” Steve joked.

“Shut up, Dingus.” Robin says, shushing Steve holding her pointer finger up at him. “Eddie, I think I might know who your secret admirer is.” 

The two boys look at Robin with wide eyes and bated breath.

Robin turns her back and hot-foots it to the back room of Family video.

“I thought you were going to tell us who it is?” Eddie shouts after his friend.

“Hold your horses will 'ya, Munson?!” she shouts back over her shoulder.

Robin returns with a wide grin gracing her freckled features as she slams down a sheet of A4 lined paper on the counter top.

“What the hell’s this?” Steve said, looking even more confused than before.

“These are the notes that I borrowed from y/n, for Kominski’s class yesterday. Now I don’t know about you guys, but I’d say that that swirly handwriting looks very familiar to me.” Robin says proudly, like she’s decoded the most cryptic of secret messages.

Eddie and Steve lean in closer to compare the handwriting in the love letters, to the handwriting in the classroom notes. 

 “I mean, apart from the little hearts that are dotting the I’s, I would say that is the exact same handwriting” Robin points out.

“So, y/n, huh?” Steve says, letting the thought hang in the air.

If Eddie was blushing before, his whole face must’ve looked like a tomato at this point, 

“Judging by your very red and embarrassed face, I’m going to guess that you like her too, right?” Robin asks.

Steve and Robin look at Eddie as he shyly scratches the back of his neck 

“Okay, yeah I like her..I like her a lot actually.”

“But isn’t tomorrow Valentine’s day?” Steve throws out.

“Oh this is perfect!” Robin jumps up and down excitedly. “Here’s what you’re going to do…”  she began as she brought Eddie closer to tell him her plan.

_______

Sticking to the plan that Robin (and Steve who got dragged into it by Robin) helped him with, Eddie got up early for school for once in his life. That morning he showered, and dressed in a clean Black Sabbath shirt (that he’d previously ironed that evening, earning a raised eyebrow from his uncle, and hung up ready to put on in the morning.)

Dressed and ready to leave, he picked up the bunch of red roses that he’d bought from the Valentine’s day section in town yesterday evening after leaving Family Video.

He’d called you and asked if you needed a lift on the way to school, and knowing you the way he did, you would much prefer to ride with him in his van than take the school bus.  

“Son..” Uncle Wayne called out to Eddie as he was just about to go through the door. “Good luck today, you be nice to that girl, alright?” His gruff voice huffs out.

“I will Wayne, I can promise you that.” Eddie throws over his shoulder with a wide grin as he makes his way to his van.

_______

Pulling up to your house, he parks his van and takes a moment to catch his breath before grabbing his bunch of roses and walking to your front door.

Squaring his shoulders he raises his knuckles to your door to deliver a confident knock. 

“I’m coming!!” he hears you shout from inside the house.

You unlock the door to see your best friend hiding his face behind a bouquet of beautiful red roses before handing them to you.

“These are for you. Happy Valentine’s day” he says as you kindly accept the flowers from him.

Although you had smiled when he’d given you the flowers, he could still sense your confusion at his gesture. 

“I got your notes…I thought they were really cute y’know and truth be told when I read them I kind of hoped they were from you.” he rambled, feeling that familiar heat flushing across his cheeks.

“How did you figure out it was me?” you ask.

“Well it wasn’t easy, but Robin and Steve helped me figure it out…mostly Robin, though..” he chuckles. 

There’s a moment's silence between the two of you where you’re both looking into each other’s eyes.

Feeling bold, you rise up on your tip-toes to place a quick peck to Eddie’s cheek. You feel him smile brightly under your lips.

“Thanks for the flowers, Ed. They’re beautiful” 

“You missed.” he says with a look of disappointment in his deep brown eyes.

“Huh?”

“You missed.” he says again, smirking as he points to his lips.

“Take me on a date first, and then we can see about that kiss, Ed” you giggle.

“Let me take you to the movies tomorrow? We can hold hands and do all that cute shit that you’re supposed to do on a first date” he looks to you excitedly.

“I’d love to!” 

“Great! I’ll come pick you up at seven?” 

“It’s a date” You smile back at him.

[maxdibert]

I know this might be more aggressive than I usually do, but I'm honestly tired. I can't help but believe that the marauders fandom lives in a completely different reality than mine.

They love to force how good James Potter was, but this same James exposed Severus' intimacy. “He had no intention”, if a person takes the life of another without intention, does that change that a person died? It doesn't change. But they love to say that because there is no intention, there is no guilt, when that's not how it works. Besides all the repetition of how Severus was an incel and James was the one who sincerely loved Lily. The epitome of agape, they say, when in reality, he was just a spoiled little rich boy who can't hear "no" from a girl and get on with his life and instead he... *checks notes* threatened and blackmailed their supposed “love” in addition to chasing his best friend with his gang of idiots and, at the same time, leading the other to hell, even though said boy heard the girl’s “no” and disappeared from her life as she asked.

They act as if Severus being a spy was no big deal and it was his obligation to do something to defeat Voldemort, when it wasn't, he had already done enough by going out of their way to give a warning about the Potters' safety. Aside from the stilted speech that "he did it for the girl", when, amazingly, said girl, at this point, is already dead, he would have gained nothing by doing what he did for the wizarding world. It seems like a competition about who objectifies Lily the most in Severus' life, when Severus: never said anything negative about her, never assumed anything about her sex life or even said that she deserved to die for not choosing him, on the contrary , he blamed himself and wished for his own death. "But, look, he bullied the son of the woman he said he loved, that's definitely obsession," his character flaws in relation to Harry were never about Lily but about old memories of his bully. His problem was always unique and exclusive to James Potter. Every time he insults Harry it's always "you're like your father", but never once did he say anything even remotely negative about Lily or blame her for cutting off her friendship with him. But still, the fandom loves to spew nonsense about how he "wanted to get into the girl's pants and got angry when he couldn't."

I vented, sorry.

That’s why I genuinely think most Snaters are just kids—they see everything in black and white and don’t understand that life doesn’t work that way. Severus didn’t owe anyone anything. The fact that he felt bad about Lily wasn’t an obligation; he could have not cared and it still would’ve been fine. Lily cut ties with him. Lily married his bully. It would’ve been completely justified for him to see her as a piece of trash after she ended up with James. Honestly, I would’ve seen her as trash. If a former friend of mine pulled something like that—ending up with someone who had physically and psychologically tormented me for years, knowing full well what I went through—they’d be lucky if I didn’t burn their house down for being such a piece of work.

But Severus's relationship with Lily carried an enormous emotional weight because she had been his attachment figure for many years. So it makes sense that he ended up feeling so guilty, especially since he was the one who told Voldemort the prophecy. But again, even the prophecy wasn’t something he shared with malicious intent. Severus was doing his job as an agent in a war (even if he was on the "wrong" side), and it just so happened that his work unintentionally affected someone he cared about. Of course, he felt guilty afterward—it’s completely understandable. Anyone in his position, with his life experiences, would.

If I were in his place, though? I would’ve ignored Lily completely. Let her and her bully of a husband die, honestly, LOL.

One thing I find fascinating about Severus is how much things actually matter to him. He cares about repaying his debt to society. He cares about redeeming himself for what happened to Lily. He cares about doing the right thing to atone for his mistakes. And he doesn’t have to care, because all the people he sacrifices himself for are people who treated him like garbage at some point.

He didn’t have to be loyal to Dumbledore, especially after Dumbledore forced him to stay silent when he was almost killed as a teenager, made him keep that secret, and left him out in the cold. He didn’t have to be loyal to Lily either. No matter how their friendship ended, I think it’s indefensible (and I’m sure others would agree) for her to get involved with a spoiled rich kid whose whole reputation was built on tormenting others. He didn’t have to risk his life for the Order when most of its members openly despised him his entire life.

He didn’t have to do any of it. And honestly? It would’ve been justifiable for him not to, given his context and his past. But he did. He did all of it because he wanted to be a better person.

Sure, his personality doesn’t always reflect that, but let’s be real—that’s the personality of someone who never stops suffering. His reactions aren’t strange—they’re the normal reactions of someone with unresolved trauma who’s reached adulthood without the chance to fully develop emotional or social maturity because of that same trauma.

And of course, he didn’t need to beg for James’s life. If I were Severus, I wouldn’t have asked Voldemort to spare James. I’d have asked him to inflict the worst possible torture on James before finishing him off. But then again, I’m Spanish, and we Mediterraneans have hot tempers and always choose violence, LOL.

But seriously, I’m so fed up with the endless whining about why Severus did this or that. It doesn’t matter why. The fact is, he did it. The important thing is that his actions contributed to a cause, and thanks to him, the world was saved. Everything else is irrelevant because, let’s be honest, many of us would’ve walked away from saving a society that judged, mistreated, and condemned us without a second thought.

[guizika]

My Boyfriend

Itadori Yuuji x GN! Reader

Cw - GN! reader, you/yours pronouns, headcanon, established relationship, pet names (My love, Angel), a little bit of angst, fluff, Maybe it's a bit ooc.

Synopsis - You and Yuji are different, you're cold and rude, while Yuji is the complete opposite.

Word count - 721

Everyone was surprised when they found out that you and Yuji were in a relationship, you are someone who is rude and cold while Yuji is the opposite. Some people cast worried glances at Itadori, fearing that he was being treated badly in the relationship.

- But little do they know that in private you're simply very gentle with Itadori, the target of harmless jokes from him.

"Angel, touch me, you know I love when you touch my hair." You say in a muffled voice, your head buried in Yuji's neck, with your arms around him in a tight hug.

"Ow, look at you, so needy you're almost begging." He says in a playful tone, taking a hand to your hair to play with it and stroke your scalp, receiving a snort in return. You quickly squeeze Itadori's side, tickling him. "Hey! Stop that-" Before he can finish speaking he is cut off by his own laughter, giggling wildly as he tries to get you to stop tickling him.

"Enough! Enough, please!" He begs after a while, you stop and give him a smug smile. "Sorry, I think it was you who was begging." With that he opens his mouth, a visible expression of shock, then cracks a smile. "Wow, who knew you had such a dirty trick up your sleeve."

"Be quiet and cuddle me for once." You bury your head in his neck and hug him tightly again, leaving him with no escape. He smiles and starts to play with your hair, so he also strokes your scalp, enjoying the moment.

- Well, apart from that, you're like a personal watchdog, always defending Itadori from negative comments or mean looks, trying to protect him from the malice of others.

Itadori is sometimes criticized mainly for being Sukuna's receptacle. Some Jujutsu sorcerers look at him differently, as if he were someone bad.

"Do you know who he is?" A girl asks her friend, pointing at Yuji. "Yes I do, be careful, he's Sukuna's vessel, better stay away from him." The boy says this, without noticing you approaching.

Your eyes narrow when you hear the boy's comment, and you stop in the middle of the path and walk towards him. When you get close to him, you touch him on the shoulder to get his attention, the boy turns around and is greeted by you. The look you give him is enough to let him and the girl know that they've said the wrong thing.

"Uh, hi." The girl says, catching your eye, only to be met with a cold stare. You both remain silent, while you clear your throat and look directly into the boy's eyes. "Look here boy, if I hear you saying anything more about my boyfriend you're screwed." With that, the boy swallows, knowing you're not joking, and the girl stands still in silence.

"Of course, I apologize for him, now we need to go." She says, pulling the boy by the arm and walking away, you look at them until they turn and disappear down the corridors.

Yuji finally notices you and calls out to you, smiling happily. "You took your time, I was getting worried." When you hear his words, a small smile appears on your face and you go to his side to sit down. "Sorry for the delay, I had to sort out some problems."

- And the main thing, when Itadori is feeling tired and exhausted from having so many responsibilities, you are there to help him. Always holding him and telling him how much you love him.

At this moment, Yuji is lying on top of you, his head buried in your neck, crying as he vents to you. "I'm so tired, it's so frustrating." He says through tears and sobs.

One of your hands caresses his back and the other plays with his hair. "Shhh, I know, my love, but you're doing your best." You kiss his hair and then let out a sigh. "You always do your best, I know that, I'm always very happy to have such a strong, beautiful and amazing boyfriend like you."

Hearing your words, Yuji cries even harder, hugging you tighter. "I love you so much, I don't know what I'd do without you." He lifts his head from your neck and begins to kiss your cheek.

Please don't translate my work and don't repost on other social networks, if there are any grammatical errors I ask you to excuse me!

[aziraphales-library]

Lost Fic #217

1. I'm looking for a Fic where Aziraphale's wings were taken as punishment and was promised they would be returned after he proves himself. So he's sent back to earth with no wings and when he meets Crowley, Crowley misunderstands and thinks Aziraphale is a human cursed by angels with immortality and making Aziraphale do their dirty work. - @cherrymaypie

2. Hello lovely people. I'm looking for a fanfic I've read I think 3 years ago. I hope you can help me. It kinda goes like this: Aziraphale got killed by Lucifer. Crowley killed Lucifer. Aziraphale got saved by Her and is waiting in the Garden of Eden, trying to reach Crowley. He finds a "reincarnated" human Aziraphale who isn't Aziraphale. He only has his traits because Aziraphale tries to kinda reach Crowley from Eden. There's something with a church, the Archangels and in the End Crowley finds him in Eden. Thank you so much ❤️ - @silber-schleier

3. So i remember reading this one where ms sandwhich takes Crowley into the brothel to help him(he was drunk. post divorce.) and someone thinks he started working there, and then Crowley starts magic-ing people into thinking theyve had sex with him when he really just vents abt Aziraphale and takes their money. Aziraphale actually checks in on him and they fight, then comes back later having left heaven and they actually have sex. somehow i remember everything but the title!!!! - anon

4. Hello! I have a tiny request, and I apologize if this is a lot to ask for. There’s this fic I’ve been searching for all night and I’m starting to think it’s disappeared! I was hoping that maybe someone here would remember. The fanfic centers around Crowley getting sick, and because Aziraphale reacts negatively the first time- he convinces himself he should never be sick in front of him again. So any time he’s feeling ill, he leaves or doesn’t let himself be near Aziraphale (although I can’t remember how many times this actually happens). At the end of the fic, Crowley discovers angels can get sick too- and of course this miscommunication is cleared up. At first Aziraphale accused him of demonic tricks and that’s why Crowley is insecure. Again, I apologize for troubling you- and I thank you in advance! This blog is so wonderful! - anon

5. hello! i was wondering if you could find a fic for me, no pressure if not! i dont really remember alot of it, i just remember that it was a post armageddon fic and aziraphale wasnt used to the freedom, so he writes reports to crowley because he enjoys the structure it gives him. crowley always gives him 10/10 gold stars, but he cant help but worry. it was very fluffy and only a little angsty. its ok if you cant find it, i havent been able to find it either, but if you did i would greatly appreciate it! (sorry for the vague description, thats truly all i can remember) tysm again, and have a great day! - anon

If you know any of these fics please include the number in your reply! Thank you :)

- Mod D

[spdrslayr]

004. atsv headcanons ! ★ post collider jonathon ohnn x reader…

! pt. 1 - pre collider hcs. ⁀➷ srcs... masterlist .rules. intro .

| synopsis, ୨♡୧ a little glimpse into your relationship with the spot.

★ tags -> gender neutral reader; johnathon ohnn; the spot; fluff; etc...

★ warnings -> cursing; johnathon being a meanie; mentions of trauma & abandonment

★ w.c -> 1,028

| xox, mei! ୨♡୧ -> i'm sorry these are so much shorter than p1.! tbh i had some trouble making these post-collider headcanons - so i might make a third part with more depth :] for now i hope this is okay!!

you’re everything to him. before the accident, he wasn’t too open about his feelings. anything about his stressful home life as a child and his insecurity paled in comparison to his work, and you. but once everyone else abandoned him after the accident, he found himself lost in you. you saved him at a time when he wanted nothing more than to disappear, bringing him back to the real world with your love and affection. 

at first, he really doesn’t like talking about the accident. but it doesn’t take long for him to fall apart before you, trembling and crying as he vents. late in the night, you’ll soothe him, holding him close while he cries into the crook of your neck. 

johnathon’s still awkward, but he’s cockier. in spite of all the tragedy, he feels so powerful now. his initial appearance aside, johnny’s more confident now that he can literally control the entire multiverse. it makes him feel worthy of your love in a way that wasn’t present before he became the spot.  

he’ll say flirty things out loud that he wouldn’t dare tell you in the past, being more forward and upfront about his attraction towards you.

johnathon’s mischievous ass got the best powers to fuck around with. he’ll pop out of nowhere to scare the shit out of you and it sends him into a fit of giggles.

johnathon’s far more protective of you now. before the accident, he’d worry about you, but trusted that you were strong enough to fend for yourself. now? anything’s possible. it doesn’t matter if he trusts you when doesn’t trust anyone else. he likes knowing where you are and when you’ll be back home. he loathes the thought of anyone taking you away from him, especially spider-man. 

sometimes he’ll go out with you. nyc is dangerous so he’ll be by your side, looming in a horrible disguise with well-meaning intentions. he just wants to keep you safe.

he loves annoying you with his spot and hole puns. being with someone who accepts him really helped in regards to finding the good in his new powers.

“holy moly!”

“that’s a whole lotta trouble.”

you got him a kitty cat. johnny doesn’t really work anymore, so a lot of times he’s stuck at home alone. he tries so hard not to seem clingy but he can’t help but mope whenever you leave. when you first got cow, johnathon was a little insulted.

“i’m a super villain! I don’t need a cat!”

they became best friends within the span of 24 hours.

[redyarns]

caught in the undertow

Chapter: 2/?

Rating: E

Relationship(s): Megatron/Orion Pax, Megatron/Optimus Prime, Sentinel Prime/Bumblebee

Summary:

When Megatron, leader of the rebellion, escaped from prison, everybot knew one thing, and one thing only: he stole an innocent with him.

---

"I'm not a sheep, how dare you!" Orion hissed, bristling at the insult.

"Oh, really?" Megatron drawled. His red optics glanced up again, and Orion's glossa went dry.

Scrap.

Who knew the cruel and ruthless leader of the blasphemous rebellion was so... handsome?

Story: Start!

Act I, Scene II: Don’t Touch This Aft

“Ow!” 

“Oops! Sorry, Orion.” 

“It’s okay, Bee. Just - Sentinel!”

“Woops.” Sentinel’s voice was dry and impatient as his servo, big enough to easily pick and toss Orion, pushed directly onto his aft, which nearly sent him sprawling across the metal floor of the vent. “Sorry.” 

“Sorry my exhaust pipe,” Orion grumbled, and he shuffled forward some more, wincing as he felt a few sparks emit from where his patella joints dug a little too harshly into the sides of the vent, but by the time both Bee and Sentinel pushed forward his pedes, he was completely inside. 

The vent was definitely not big, at least not for someone Sentinel's size or even a regular guard, but Orion was small enough to make it work. It was a bit too tight and his patellas were already going numb, but when he experimentally wiggled forward and crawled, he could move with relative ease. 

“Orion? You okay?” Bee's voice, now muffled and behind him, drifted through the little empty space around Orion as he began to shuffle forward, attempting to emit as minimum noise as possible. 

“I’m okay.” Orion called back. “Comm me where to go. It's dark and I left my headlight back in my berth.” 

“He's a miner and he left his headlight behind?” Sentinel muttered to himself. 

Orion rolled his optics, readjusted his shoulder plates, and kept moving. 

It was disgustingly dusty and grimey in the vent. He could already envision the nice, hot solvent shower he would take as soon as he and the others escaped, and he grimaced when he felt something get lodged in between the seams of his digits. 

But it didn’t matter to him. He was this close to Megatron, a figure who no doubt would have tried to kill him in any other circumstance. Actually, there was a good chance that he would try to kill Orion even now, and the thought almost made him laugh. 

Well, either way, it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like Orion had any weapons on his frame, and he didn’t even have a cog to transform and roll away. If, by some chance, the rebellion leader somehow did “rip apart the bars like he did diamonds”, then Orion supposed Sentinel and Bee would finally be right about something. 

Private Comm Link (ID: #350183): Two Idiots and One Prime

Incoming message… 

DES: B-127 (Alias: Bee) - ID: B-127-003025

:: This is definitely the craziest thing you’ve ever done, Orion. Make sure to take a selfie when you find him! :: 

DES: Sentinel - ID: SN-402021 

:: What?? Orion, do not get a selfie, if there’s even a little bit of evidence that we were here, Ultra isn’t going to just beat my aft to screws, he’s going to hang yours in his office! ::

DES: Orion Pax - ID: OP-001628

:: Sen, chill, I’m not going to take a selfie. Probably. ::

DES: Sentinel - ID: SN-402021

:: I give up. I seriously give up. ::

DES: B-127 (Alias: Bee) - ID: B-127-003025

:: Orion! Do you see the fork? Make sure to take a right. After that, you’ll be right on top of him. ::

“On top of him?” Orion muttered out loud as his crawl slowed down to a stop as he came upon the fork that Bee mentioned. Going right immediately yielded something different, like he was pushing himself into a whole new area. He shivered, his sensors warning him that the temperature had dropped at least several celsius. 

His frame rattled with the cold, and when he ex-vented, he was surprised to see a small fog of condensation waft around him before reluctantly disappearing. So his sensors weren’t faulty, then, and it was definitely way colder here than where he had been before. 

Why was the temperature difference so abrupt? 

He squinted as he saw something up ahead. It was a small thing of light, broken evenly into thin strips, and so dim that his optics almost missed it. Another vent graft, he realized, though this time, underneath him rather than in front. 

He crawled towards it, curious to see if he could find the reason for why it was so cold, and his optics blinked several times to adjust to the slight difference in light as he placed his servos on either side of the vent and looked down. 

He vented sharply. 

What he had just stumbled upon had not, in fact, been a hallway or another security room like he’d thought. No, he thought. This was a cell. 

Cell 99. And right in the middle of it… 

Megatron, he almost gasped out, but he barely stopped his voicebox in time, and instead, a slight, near undetectable squeak of static escaped him as he stared down in disbelief at what he had worked so hard towards since that evening. 

The leader of the rebellion was… sitting. He had one leg propped up with an arm on top of it, though it was easy to see the servo-suppressants that glowed dimly with blue energon wrapped firmly around his wrists. His armor plating was a shining silver color, though matted with scrapes, cuts, and - Orion swallowed - old, dried energon. 

He wondered whose energon that once belonged to. An innocent Cybertronian once again at the unyielding servos of the rebellion? The thought made his spark pulse with disgust, and he turned his helm to the side, venting slowly before he slid his optics back to observe the rebel. 

Megatron was large, though that was a pretty lame way to put it. He was probably as tall as Sentinel, which was a bit alarming to think about, since Sentinel was easily the tallest bot that Orion knew aside from Ultra Magnus himself. But unlike Sentinel, who had more aristocratic features than anything, it was clear that Megatron was anything but. 

His shoulder plating was large and thick, and so were his arms. They bulged with cables and wires, a testament to his abnormal strength that Bee had been so scared of, and his chassis moved slowly with his vents. 

For a moment, Orion thought he was in recharge cycle, which filled him with more relief than he wanted to admit, but he froze, his joints locking in place and his gears abruptly stopping out of the fear that jolted his spark when there was the unmistakable sound of a voice that wasn’t his. 

“I didn’t survive all these vorns due to poor sensors,” Megatron said. “Come out, vermin.” 

His voice wasn’t… unpleasant. Actually, it was rather nice, soft and deep, tickling Orion’s audials when he thought too much about it. It was shocking, actually - all this time, Orion had simply assumed that Megatron’s monstrous presence equaled itself in his voicebox, as well. 

If anything, Megatron didn’t sound monstrous. He just sounded contemplative. 

With a small shake of his helm, Megatron stirred. He didn’t move from his position propped up against the wall, but from within the poorly lit cell, there was a new source of light, a red color that made Orion’s energon pump through him with urgency as adrenaline hummed within his veins. 

Meticulously, Megatron looked around himself, though he didn’t seem that alarmed about the idea that someone was watching him. In fact, he simply seemed bored, and the idea was perpetuated with the way he lazily tilted his helm and muttered, “where are you?” 

Orion twitched. There was no way Megatron would figure out where he was. After all, he wasn’t near the bars, and that was where the leader was mostly staring at. And if Orion had ever learned anything during his vorns online, it was that bots had a notoriously hard time looking up. So as long as Orion didn’t make a sound, then - 

“Ah. There you are.” 

This time, he couldn’t stop the sound that escaped his derma when red, glowing optics snapped up and stared intensely right at the vent. 

Throughout Orion’s life, he had never seen optics that color before. Sure, there were cosmetic procedures that the aristocrats sometimes went under, but he had only ever seen colors like light green or pale pink to better match paint jobs. This red, a color that Orion had only ever seen in the city lights of Iacon, threatened to burn him where he lied, and his spark beat dangerously fast in his chassis. 

It distressed him to think how attractive the rebellious leader was. His face sculpture was perfect, strong and accentuated by the rims of a helm that outlined his cheek plates. His derma were set in a firm, straight line, as if he were thinking, but his expression wasn’t particularly harsh, just monotone. 

He was handsome. Devastatingly so, actually, and Orion wanted to kill himself for thinking it. 

“Well?” Megatron asked. He raised his optic ridges when there was no reply, though for some reason, that seemed to amuse him. He ex-vented a small huff that borderlined a chuckle, and he said, “I see. Come to make a spectacle of me? I knew you council sheep lacked honor, but this is just entertainment for me by this point.” 

“I’m not a sheep,” Orion hissed on impulse. He almost clasped a servo to his derma in shock. He hadn’t meant to reply, but he knew just how much of an issue he had with anybot looking down on him, which was bad because this bot wasn’t any bot, it was fragging Megatron. 

But Megatron didn’t get angry. 

Instead, he simply huffed again, and his optics, unwavering and unrelenting, continued to stare up as he drawled, “oh, really?” 

Orion’s glossa went dry as his energon pumps continued to work into overdrive, desperately trying to warm him up as embarrassment and indignation worked in tandem to bring a blush to his faceplates. It was a shock to feel so warm in the cold environment, and he struggled for a moment, words caught in his voicebox as he fell silent. 

Megatron snorted. It was a noise Orion never would have expected to come from some bot like him, and the rebel tilted his helm slightly, as if trying to get a different angle for his optics, which began to trace the outline of the vent, as if memorizing the dimensions of it. 

“Strategic,” Megatron said slowly, his gaze never once stopping as he continued to brush over the perimeter like it utterly fascinated him. “You’re at an angle where I can’t see you. And you’re able to look down on me. Aha, though perhaps that’s what you’re really after, sheep. To glare down at me like the scum you think I am.” 

“Why do you call me that?” Orion demanded. Once again, unable to help himself, and once again, knowing that he was dangerously treading along a line that he should not have toed. But he didn’t care - the casual, nonchalant way Megatron insulted him was enough to bristle anyone’s paint, not just Orion’s. At least, that was what he told himself. 

Megatron shrugged. It was a one-shoulder movement and his optics fixated right in the middle of the grate again. Even though Orion had heard from Megatron himself that he couldn’t see what he looked like, it still unnerved him greatly that the mech’s gaze was so intensely pointed right at him. 

He shivered. He couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or because of something else. 

“I don’t like to lie, sheep,” Megatron said. “Vermin who like to do nothing more than lick the council’s boots are but flies to me.” 

Orion gritted his dentae. “You have a strong conviction for someone who has his own herd of sheeps.” 

This, at last, drew a reaction from Megatron that wasn’t passing boredom. His optics, which had been humming low with red light, blazed for a klik, and for that moment, Orion could at last understand why exactly this bot was locked up in the most fortified prison their planet had to offer. 

This bot, Megatron, was dangerous.  

“Watch what you say, council vermin,” Megatron growled. He smirked then, a ghost of a smug smile glossing over his derma, and the look was so unexpected and yet at the same time, so fitting on his facial plates that Orion couldn’t do anything but stare. “Hah, to think I’m so bored, that I’m entertaining the likes of you. This imprisonment will kill me faster than your execution will.” 

“Execution?” Orion repeated. “That’s a bold thing to assume.” 

Megatron did not look impressed. “Your oh-so-beloved council wants my helm on a pike, sheep. You’re simply deluding yourself if you think otherwise.” 

Orion fisted his servos and angrily ignored the warning in his vision that said he was cutting off energon circulation in his digits. He had encountered many difficult bots in his life, with Darkwing probably at the top of that list, but Megatron somehow had a way of grinding his gears and making him feel like an idiot on top of that boiling anger. 

There were too many things wrong with Megatron, Orion decided. His blatant disrespect for the High Covenant was more than enough to grate on Orion’s already lit nerves, but the arrogance, the nonchalant speak of execution as if it wasn’t a life they were talking about. Sure, it was Megatron’s life, but that blatant disregard for sentience was exactly why Orion despised him and his rebellion. 

“The council has a due process that makes every trial fair and equal.” Orion argued, his processor furiously bringing up countless different trials he had witnessed on projection over his vorns alive. All of them had been assigned an attorney, faced the council and jury, and whatever the council judged, it had always been in conjunction with said jury, not against. “You can’t just assume that - “ 

“Oh, yes, due process, blah, blah, blah,” Megatron said. Orion closed his jaw with a clack, wanting nothing more than to punch the rebel’s face when he simply tilted his helm again and smirked. That infuriating, crooked, stupid smirk that, to Orion’s horror, only made him even more handsome than ever. “The council can do no wrong in your optics, can they?” 

Orion was speechless. 

“Ultra Magnus, great leader of Iacon, infallible to things us mortal bots can never resist the temptation of,” Megatron continued, his voice so thick with sarcasm that it made Orion’s audials ring with disbelief. Megatron hummed, contemplated for a klik, and said, “let me guess. You worship him, you think he’s the next Prime coming, all those ridiculous sentiments that you bots can never seem to shake.” 

“He’s a greater bot than you’ll ever be,” Orion said coldly. His anger simmered at the back of his glossa and his molar dentae, tangy and tasting a bit too much like energon when he bit back the rest of his insult. He would not stoop to Megatron’s level. It was clearer than ever that the rebel was mocking him, trying to goad him into a fight, which Orion should have realized sooner, since of course somebot like Megatron only cared about fighting with the very first bot he’s seen in however many solar cycles he’d been here. 

“We’ll see, sheep.” Megatron practically purred. The words caressed Orion’s audials in a way that he felt shameful of, and he ducked his helm, shaking slightly where he sat as he vented sharply and swallowed around the sudden rock near his voicebox. 

The bewilderment that continued to circle through Orion’s processor was so distracting that he almost jumped when there was a notification that somebot was trying to reach him through comms, and he was stupefied by what he saw. 

Private Comm Link (ID: #350183): Two Idiots and One Prime

Incoming message…

DES: B-127 (Alias: Bee) - ID: B-127-003025

:: OIRNOA GET OU FO THERNE ::

:: THEHYR COMIMNG SOON HURRH ::

DES: Orion Pax - ID: OP-001628

:: What???? :: 

DES: Sentinel - ID: SN-402021

:: Orion, you need to get out of there, NOW. The guards are changing shifts and we can’t be here when that happens since they’ll be swapping the live feed bot, too. HURRY YOUR AFT UP. ::

“Slag it.” Orion breathed. “Now? Already?” 

“Hmm,” Megatron said from below him. Finally, he broke his unrelenting gaze from the graft, and instead, his optics drifted down towards the bars of his cells again, listening for a klik before saying, “I assume whoever assisted you to get you in here just told you that the guards are coming. They’re right.” 

Orion flushed. “Screw you.” 

Megatron laughed. It was a surprisingly light sound, a brief noise that escaped his derma more than anything, but a laugh nonetheless. He squinted his optics up at Orion one last time, and he said, “go. Your council won’t be kind if they find you here.” 

Orion nodded, even if Megatron couldn’t see it. He hesitated. And then: “Goodbye, Megatron.”

“Goodbye, sheep,” Megatron murmured. His optics glinted. 

Orion looked away, muttered a curse, and began to shimmy back from where he went. 

“Finally!” Sentinel practically hissed as he bent down low to the vent, and didn’t even wait for Orion to finish climbing out. Instead, he simply reached in and grabbed the miner gently around the waist, and hauled him to his side, where on the other end of his chassis, Bee waved at Orion. “What the frag took you so long!” 

“What was he like, Orion?” Bee urged as Sentinel immediately began to fly off, weaving expertly over the various guard bots that began to stream the halls, their own conversations muffling their own. “What was he like?” 

Orion couldn’t stop staring over his shoulder, where the surveillance room, and therefore Megatron, was left behind. 

The warmth of the rest of the building was surprisingly unwelcome on his paint, and he couldn’t help but shudder lightly as he recalled the frost that had clung to the vent, and the scarlet irises of a bot who was unapologetically blasphemous and reveled in it. 

“He was… everything everybot said he was,” Orion said lamely. 

And somehow more. He thought privately. 

Slag. 

Act I, Scene III: Look At Me, I’m Pickle Rick(s)!

“Come on, come on! Tell me again what he said!” 

“Bee, that’s the sixth time you’ve asked me this morning alone,” Orion said in fond exasperation, reaching down to give Bee a noogie, smiling when the shorter bot simply giggled and nuzzled into his touch. “Aren’t you sick of us talking about it? Actually, aren’t you sick of me repeating what I said?” 

“No way.” Bee shook his helm in excitement. He was practically bouncing on the balls of his pedes, which was more than what Orion felt, since it was before even Helios had risen over the horizon. But there was no time to stop and wait for the scenery, unfortunately, as both of them made their way over to one of the numerous lifts for the mines. “That was the coolest thing we’ve ever done.” 

“I thought it was the stupidest,” Orion said sarcastically as he stepped carefully over a river of contaminated solvent. 

This area of Iacon was more the underbelly than the top hillside where the middle and high caste members lived. Instead of glittering lights and gleaming buildings, there were shoddily and incredibly cramped apartments everywhere, and just like the waste that Orion had jumped over, it was filthy. 

Orion was used to the slums, a testament to how long he had been here. His olfactory sensors had learned how to block out most of the smell, though he did grimace when he walked past a sparkling that was dirtier than the street she sat on. She munched idly on some waste, his processor immediately recognizing the way she dug her dentae in and sucked, a means of trying to squeeze out any energon leftover in the trash. 

“I'm pretty sure I lost several vorns on my life doing it, but since we didn't actually get tossed into jail for what was definitely the most illegal thing we've ever done, I gotta say that that was the most exhilarated I ever felt!” Bee trilled, continuing on, gushing as he always did whenever he was particularly excited. “Primus, can you believe it? We actually managed to break in and not get caught! I bet if I had just had more time, I could've even downloaded some of their - their - uh, Orion?” 

Orion heard the way his friend called for him, bewildered at the sudden disappearance of him, and he absentmindedly waved over his shoulder plate to indicate where he was as he carefully approached the sparkling. 

She paused in her suckling of the waste, and peered up at him with no small amount of fear in her eyes. Despite her obvious paranoia, she clutched desperately at her trash, as if that piece of filth was her lifeline, and to her, it was. It reminded Orion too strongly of the days when it was him who was the too-small sparkling that sat on curbs and dug his dentae into fodder for even the smallest trace of contaminated energon. 

“Hey,” he said quietly, gently, bending down slowly onto one patella joint so that he wouldn't scare her more than he already had. “Look at you. Big girl, huh. You must be hungry.” 

For a second, he worried that she was gonna dart, but she did something even worse. She swallowed hesitantly, her derma filthy with the smears of dirty energon that wasn't healthy at all, and timidly, her sticky digits offered him the rest of her trash, and she mumbled, “need?” 

He looked at her, and he was sure the expression on his face was something close to anger, or maybe closer to sadness. It made his spark stutter to think a sparkling, one who couldn't have been older than a couple vorns, tried to offer him her only source of energon because she thought he needed it. 

She was so kind. So young, so famished, and still so kind, and Orion vented deeply as a serve rested gently on his shoulder plate and Bee knelt down so that they were both optic-level with the nervous sparkling. 

“Don't drink this anymore, okay?” Orion tried to say both as firmly and as softly as he could as he plucked the trash from her digits and placed it on the ground. She looked at it longingly, and he said, “no, don't look at it. You need something better if you want to grow into a strong femme. Here.” 

“Orion,” Bee said lowly when Orion opened his arm compartment and offered a cube full of energon to the sparkling, whose face lit up in awe. “That's your last ration for the orn. We won't get more for at least another two solar cycles.” 

Orion was shaking his helm even before Bee finished speaking. He gently handed the cube to the sparkling, who held it cautiously in her servos, as if it was the most precious thing she had ever witnessed. To her, it was the most precious thing, and he firmly ignored the way his energon levels rested at only 52% as he said, “she needs it more than I do.” 

Bee fell silent. And then he sniffled lightly, and said, “you're right.” 

Orion watched in astonishment as Bee opened his own compartment and dug out all his cubes. As a smaller bot, Bee was able to stretch out his energon rations more than Orion could, and he had a full three cubes that he handed to the sparkling, who looked like she was about to faint. 

“You didn't have to do that,” Orion tried to say, but there was no way he could hide his grin as he gave Bee a side hug. 

“She needs it more than I do,” Bee repeated, his optics twinkling as he beamed at Orion, and he was warmed by the conviction in Bee's voice as he knelt closer to the sparkling and said, “Orion's right. Don't drink that trash anymore, okay? This energon will help you. Make sure not to drink it all at once, or you'll get sick.” 

The sparkling nodded rapidly. She held the cubes close to her chest, and she seemed near tears as she stuttered a quiet, shaky, “thank you.” 

“What's your designation?” Orion couldn't help but ask. 

She blinked up at him. “... No des.” 

“Where's your carrier?” Bee asked next. 

She shook her helm. 

Orion swallowed. Slag. That made sense. If she was here, alone and by herself, then that had to mean something happened to her carrier and sire. Whether they abandoned her, whether they died, he didn't know, but one thing was for sure. She would be scooped up by the miner recruiters some cycle or another, and he dreaded to think a small, tiny little thing like her would have to work the same shifts that often had his joints creaking and brittle despite his own young age. 

“You can choose your own designation one day,” Orion said, curling his servo around hers. She was so small compared to him. His spark ached to think how long she had spent her short life like this, wandering the slums of Iacon while digging through trash for even a semblance of energon. “And when you do, you can tell us. If you ever need energon, come find me, okay? I'll give you all that you need.” 

She didn't speak. Her optics shined brilliantly, the previous dullness of them flaring to life, and without warning, she hugged him, launching herself at his chassis and winding her arms around him, even if she was too tiny to make a full embrace. She nuzzled her nose right below the empty cavity of his cog space, and with that, she was gone, racing down the nearest alleyway and her chirps of excitement echoing behind her. 

“Think she can find us again?” Bee asked worriedly as they watched her leave. 

“I'm sure she will,” Orion said assuredly. “She seems like the survivor type.” 

“Yeah,” Bee said, getting to his pedes and helping Orion do the same. Bee smiled at him, a gentle slope of his derma that was unusual for a bot as easily excitable as him, and his voice was uncharacteristically tender as he said, “you're a good guy, Orion, you know that?” 

Orion flushed and teasingly pushed Bee away, shaking his helm as he did. “Flatterer. Anybot else would have done the same.” 

“No,” Bee said. His optics shined with something Orion couldn't name. “Not anybot.” 

Orion just wish he could have done more. As much as Bee had tried to provide for the sparkling as well, an act that was admirable no matter how anybot looked at it, that probably hadn't been their best move. They weren't going to get their rations again for at least a couple solar cycles like Bee said, and the energon that they did manage to give hadn't been the completely refined kind. 

Orion just hoped that the cubes were enough to tide the sparkling over until she found them again. 

“Come on,” Orion said, tugging along Bee, their servos clasped together warmly as they beamed at each other. “We're going to be late, and Ricks is going to throw a fit again if we don't show up on time.” 

Bee giggled, the both of them dashing over to the now empty lifts, working quickly to press the button for sub-level 40. “Do you think he'll finally blow a fuse and have a spark attack?” 

“I wouldn't put it past him.” Orion laughed. “Remember last time? I thought for sure he was going to pass out from how high his energon pressure was rising.” 

Bee chortled again, and then he fell silent, an expression of curiosity on his face as the lift groaned and began to take them down. 

Orion nudged him. “What're you thinking so hard about?” 

“I dunno,” Bee said absentmindedly, fiddling with his digits, something he did when he was nervous. He hesitated, and when Orion gave him another look, he vented and said, “I guess I just… I wonder if they feed him.” 

“Feed who?” 

“You know. Megatron.” Bee mumbled. 

Orion blinked, taken back by the question. 

He had honestly thought they were past the Megatron thing, though he supposed it was just wishful thinking. Truthfully, he hadn't told Sentinel and Bee everything that happened. He told them about what they said to each other and the bizarre temperature drop, but what they didn't know was that Orion had spent a good portion of his recharge cycle dreaming about the rebel, their conversation on loop. 

Even worse, in his dreams, he had witnessed the way Megatron's derma moved up close, his glossa stroking the bottom lip with his enunciation, and it had mortified Orion to the point he periodically jolted awake. 

He had hoped that with the new solar cycle, he could put all of it behind him, that he could ignore the pull in his abdomen any time he thought about Megatron, but of course his nosy friends could never give him a rest. 

And now Bee was making him think not just about how infuriatingly attractive Megatron had been, but horrifyingly, now Orion was wondering the same thing. Did they feed him? They had to, didn't they? There was no way the council would ever let anyone starve, no matter who. 

But then Orion thought about the sparkling, who was so young and could only rely on trash to sustain herself. Pits, he thought about him and Bee, miners who didn't even get paid in shanix, but rather rations of half-refined energon that often coated his dentae and made him feel slightly sick whenever he drank too fast. 

Cybertron was low on energon, Orion knew. Devastatingly so. It… It made sense that it had to be rationed, and that it couldn't be as refined as it should. Plus there was a population crisis in the slums; the council couldn't be expected to know every time a sparkling was born, especially since there wasn’t a hospital in the area, so a lot of the times, carriers had to give birth in alleys or shoddy apartments. 

So what did it all mean then? Did the council have enough resources to spare for Megatron, too? They had to! What were they going to do if he died before they even held the trial? It wasn’t like Ultra or the other members to ever treat anybot cruelly! 

But he was covered in injuries, some part of Orion's processor murmured. 

He stilled, recalling the numerous little cuts and scrapes he had seen on Megatron's otherwise polished armor. It had been clear that the bot had been through a lot, though it didn't occur to Orion until now that none of those wounds had exactly been dressed. 

Orion swallowed. 

Iacon was the richest city on all of Cybetron, a feat only achieved due to how their mines produced the most energon out of the neighboring states, and the council called it home base. Their medical provisions were also considered the top in Cybertron because of this, so why would they not…? 

Unless they considered Megatron unworthy of getting treated at all. 

But no, that wasn't possible. Ultra Magnus was a Prime in all but name, he would never allow anybot to suffer at his own servos like that! There had to be a better explanation. 

Orion suddenly shook his helm. 

What the Pits was wrong with him? Who cared if Megatron was a little banged up or a little hungry? It wasn't Orion's job to look after him, especially not the number one sought out criminal of the state! It had already been one thing to break into Titan's Hold and speak with him, but to do anything more? 

No. 

Orion would be considered more than just a criminal: he'd be accused of treason. The very same charge that Megatron faced. 

“Orion Pax! B-127!” 

Orion jolted where he stood as the lift doors opened and almost immediately, Ricks was in his facial plates, spitting so harshly that Orion grimaced when he felt small amounts of saliva splat onto his sensitive cheeks. 

Ricks was their team leader, though how he got a promotion when he was such an afthole, Orion could never figure out. Ricks was a short and stocky bot who barely knew how to work a jetpack, much less actually mine, and Orion didn't know whether to feel amused or annoyed when Ricks pointed a fat digit right into his face and snarled, “you're both late! Again! Just you wait until I tell Darkwing about this!” 

“It's only kliks past our clock-in time, Ricks,” Orion said, pushing past his team leader and moving swiftly to the line of jetpacks on the wall, tossing one to Bee and hooking the other one onto his dorsal planes. “Guess recharging doesn't do much to help remove that pole from your aft, huh?” 

“Orion,” Bee groaned as Ricks turned an unflattering shade of blue. 

“And even if you call Darkwing, so what?” Orion laughed, waving off the way Bee kept making frantic cutting motions at his neck. “What're you going to tell him? That we're late by fifteen kliks? I'm sure that'll go over well. He really hates it when his time jacking off to Ultra Magnus is interru - “ 

“Is that so, Orion Pax?” 

Orion stiffened at the dark, menacing, pissed off voice behind him. Bee buried his helm into his servos, and Ricks looked like he was about to start floating from his glee as slowly, Orion turned around and lifted his chin to meet the glare of one seriously moody Darkwing. 

Slag. What the frag was he doing down here? Darkwing only oversaw the upper levels of the mines since he was one of the middle caste supervisors, so him being here meant only one thing; he was there to heckle Orion and Bee, his favorite pastime. It was aggravating how even when they were both in the lowest sub-level possible, Darkwing went out of his way to ensure that they were ‘behaving’. 

“Darkwing!” Orion said, slapping on an enthusiastic and joyful tone as he grinned up at the looming figure of the very same bot who had tossed him and Bee into a trash chute only a few orns ago. Afthole. “My favorite supervisor! What's up? Here to check out the new digs? Yeah, it’s pretty cool down here, since, you know, you demoted us.” 

“I demoted you because you and B-127 are liabilities of the highest order,” Darkwing rumbled. He didn't seem pleased, but then again, he never was. It wasn't always Orion's goal to upset him, but no matter what he did, it never made Darkwing's severe scowl lighten up. “Even the lowest sub-level can't curb your disrespect. No rations for you this orn.” 

Orion's jaw dropped. What? But that was practically cruel! Darkwing had been angry before, sure, but never like this. “What? You can't do that!” 

Darkwing leaned down. His optics dug straight into Orion's face, and he hissed, “try me. Ricks.” 

He was serious. Deadly, actually, and Orion stared back, stunned. 

“Yes, Lord Darkwing!” Ricks said eagerly. 

Darkwing didn't tear his gaze off of Orion even as he straightened to his full height, his glower penetrating and peeling back all the layers of Orion's frame. “Make sure that Pax doesn't receive even a droplet of energon until I say so. He can work all of it out of his system, first. I'll go ahead and tell the suppliers to cut out his portion.” 

“With pleasure, Lord Darkwing!” Ricks practically cheered. 

Orion grinded his dentae. 

He didn't know why his anger burned so bright that particular morning. Maybe it was the sad and relatable sight of that little sparkling, who had resembled Orion too much back when he was her age for him to be entirely comfortable. Maybe it was the thought that he and Bee would once again go starving for a few solar cycles, which meant their work would degrade, and they would get another writeup again. 

Maybe it was Megatron. Lonely, injured Megatron who was left in that cell with nothing but the frost on his shoulder blades and himself for company. Megatron, who maybe didn't get fed. Megatron, who had given Orion the most interesting conversation in vorns. 

Whatever it was, it made him feel reckless, spirited, and with that, he vented in deeply, and he called out to Darkwing, who had turned around and was starting to walk away. 

“Hey, Darkwing!” Orion shouted. 

Darkwing paused and turned slightly, and Orion grinned at him, hard and unforgiving, as he raised a servo and said, “let me give you your portion of me for today. Want to guess which one of these is for you? I'll give you a slagging hint.” 

He raised his middle digit with all the pride of someone who was about to get his aft kicked, and sure enough, Darkwing made a noise reminiscent of a howl, and his fist was a blur as it shot out and immediately hammered the side of Orion's face. 

“Ugh, Orion!” Bee whimpered as he caught Orion's slumped form. His helm was throbbing horribly and he was pretty sure one of his optics had cracked simply from how hard Darkwing hit him. Fragging bucket of bolts. Some solar cycle, Orion would punch him back. 

“Triple shifts, both of you,” Darkwing spat. He was heaving, his cooling fans in overdrive as he stood there, shaking, flexing his digits repeatedly, like he was contemplating beating Orion again, but was barely holding back. “GET TO WORK!” 

With that, he transformed and sped away, kicking up so much dust that Orion sneezed, which only made his helm ache that much more.

“You heard him,” Ricks said, his face practically manic with his joy as he shoved both Orion and Bee closer to the entrance of the mines, sneering when they stumbled. “Triple shifts! Let's go!” 

“Sorry, Bee,” Orion mumbled as they both activated their jetpacks and followed Ricks deeper into the pockets of veins, wincing as he gingerly held a servo to the side of his face and realized that he had a new dent in his jaw. Slag it. 

“It's okay,” Bee said, looking more worried about Orion than their impending back-to-back shifts, which Orion knew from experience would exhaust them both so much to the point they would be in recharge for at least an entire solar cycle afterwards. “But you shouldn't have done that, Orion, you know what he's like! Why would egg him on?” 

Orion pursed his derma and looked ahead, helm throbbing and his spark seeking answers that he didn't know how to even address. 

“I don't know,” he finally said. “I just… this all just sucks. We’re treated like trash when we're just trying to survive! The council already has their servos full with trying to deal with the rebellion, so I know they don't have the resources to spare for us, but still. Ah, scrap, Sentinel's trying to message me. Did you tattle on me?” 

Bee at least had the decency to look slightly guilty. “He's going to ask questions the next time we see him and you have a dent the size of a fist in your helm. He said he'll bring us some energon, so you didn’t have to go so crazy on Darkwing like that! You know what happens if we break protocol.” 

Orion ran a servo down the side of his face. 

“I just wish we could get our own energon instead of having to rely on Sentinel,” he said after several moments of flying and Ricks barking orders ahead of them. He ex-vented and said, “can you ask him something for me, by the way?” 

“Sure,” Bee said. He was giving Orion that look that meant he was worried but wouldn't pry, which he appreciated. “What do you want me to say?” 

“Ask him to bring more energon than usual,” Orion said, his processor already drifting to somewhere beyond the mines as he realized he was ready to break even more protocol. He felt a little sorry for his friends, both of whom would get caught up in his schemes again, but… “I think I know somebot else who might need it.”

[aishangotome]

[Gilbert] Choose Your True Love: Part 4

Part 3

♡———♡

Gilbert: ...That's a very tempting offer, but...

Gilbert: But... I'm sorry.

Gilbert: When I leave the castle, people die.

Gilbert looks "worn out" with dark circles under his eyes and a pale complexion, but he dismisses the idea of rest with the same refreshing smile as always.

I couldn't say anything.

I was frustrated by my own powerlessness.

I gripped his black mantle tightly, as if to vent my swirling emotions.

Gilbert: It would be fine if the rotten ones were dying, but he kills indiscriminately.

Gilbert: If someone doesn't keep him in check, Obsidian will eventually run out of people.

Gilbert: I wish he'd be a little smarter. Ah, I want to kill him.

Roderich: ...Prince Gilbert.

Gilbert: Heh, eventually, right?

(...When I met him, Gilbert said he didn't love anyone.)

(But maybe it wasn't that he "didn't love," but that he "couldn't love.")

(If he loved someone, he couldn't stay sane. This is that kind of country.)

(...And Gilbert loves people.)

How much did Gilbert suffer until his heart became numb to death?

He must have experienced the feelings I'm having now dozens, if not hundreds, of times.

(After all...)

(After all, it's not right that Gilbert isn't rewarded.)

Gilbert: Why are you crying?

Emma: ...I'm not crying...

I try to deny it, but my cheeks are wet.

My vision is blurred before I know it, and I can't even see Gilbert's face properly.

Gilbert: I'm sorry, did I scare you? This is difficult...

I shake my head vigorously and wipe my tears with my sleeve.

Emma: No, it's not that.

Emma: I just... I just want to be someone who can protect you.

Gilbert: Hmm? Who?

Emma: ...You, Gilbert.

Gilbert: That's a strange thing to say.

Gilbert: Ah, but we're close in the future, right?

(When I was explaining my situation to Gilbert, I didn't mention it because I thought it might confuse him, but...)

Emma: ...We're engaged.

Gilbert: To me?

Emma: Yes. I'm your fiancée.

Gilbert: ...Oh.

Emma: That's why I want to be someone you can rely on when you're in pain or suffering.

Emma: Even if it's not possible right now, someday...

(Obsidian will be reborn by Gilbert's hands in the future.)

(But the Emperor's wicked policies are still leaving their mark everywhere.)

(It seems like Gilbert is still fighting in the shadows in the future.)

(And I know he's trying to keep the dirty things away from me as much as possible.)

I'm still not mature enough for Gilbert to rely on me.

I've always been aware that my knowledge and skills are immature, but seeing the past has made it even clearer.

(I can't stay the way I am.)

(...I want to change.)

(To someone who can be relied upon like Roderich and Walter.)

(To someone who can face that hellish scene alongside him...)

Emma: I want to be someone who can protect you, Gilbert.

I declared it clearly once again.

Gilbert's eyes widened slightly, and his smile disappeared.

Gilbert: You should stop. What I'm doing is the same as what he's doing.

Gilbert: In terms of the number of people I've killed, I'm second only to the Emperor.

Gilbert: There's nothing about me that you could love--

Emma: I know.

Emma: ...I know everything.

Gilbert: ...

Gilbert: I see.

Gilbert: Ah, as I thought... I want to kill my future self.

Gilbert gently shook off my hand and finally left the hideout.

He never looked back.

That was a sign of the trampling beast's resolve.

(...Ah...)

My vision blurred, and my body swayed.

Roderich, who was standing nearby, noticed something was wrong and immediately supported me.

Roderich: ...Please lie down. The medicine must be taking effect.

Emma: Medicine...?

Roderich: It's a sleeping pill. ...Just in case you try to follow Gilbert.

(Gilbert... lied to me.)

(Come to think of it, he also lied to the Emperor... saying I was his "pet"...)

(He hates lies... but he lied to protect me.)

(Both Gilbert in the past and Gilbert now...)

(He loves people more than anyone else, even though...)

-

I must have been dreaming.

(...It was a terrible dream.)

I woke up in Gilbert's room, where he was absent, with a book as my pillow.

It was a nightmare that made me sweat so much that my clothes became cold, and cry so much that my eyes swelled up.

Fragments of the dream still remain in my mind.

When I come to the square of Obsidian Castle, I remember that cruel scene.

Obsidian Soldier 1: Hey, did you hear about tonight's dinner? There's one healthy dish designed by Professor Walter.

Obsidian Soldier 2: What?! No way... We're going to die.

Obsidian Soldier 1: Should we run away?

Obsidian Soldier 2: No... Gilbert gets angry when it's a healthy meal. If we get caught running away, we'll be killed.

(...It's peaceful.)

The soldiers, noticing me, hurriedly saluted and walked away quickly.

There were no traces of red blood in the square.

Since I started living here, there hasn't been a single execution.

The soldiers are relaxed enough to wander around chatting, a completely different scene from the one in my dream.

(I used to think this was a normal sight.)

Even so, this peace is a testament to the victory that Gilbert won after a harsh battle.

???: ... You little cheater.

Emma: !?

Suddenly, I was embraced from behind, and when I turned around, my lips were bitten hard.

Emma: Gi, Gilbert... When did you...?

Gilbert: You were exchanging glances with a passing soldier just now, weren't you?

(It seems like he's been watching me for a while.)

Emma: I looked away the moment our eyes met and ran away at full speed...

Gilbert: That's too rude to you, isn't it? I can't forgive that.

(This is a difficult question to answer...!)

I kiss Gilbert, who looks sulky.

When I look closely at his handsome face, there are no dark circles under his eyes and his complexion is good.

The air around him is not tense, but calm.

Gilbert: Did something happen?

Emma: Why do you ask?

Gilbert: You were staring at the square with a troubled look on your face, weren't you?

Emma: ...You were watching me the whole time?

Gilbert: That's mean of you not to notice me.

(This is fun.)

(...Just this much is enough to fill my chest right now.)

I turn my whole body around and put my arms around Gilbert's back.

Emma: It's not that anything happened. I was just savoring the peace, so to speak...

Gilbert: ...Hmm?

Emma: That's right! Gil, I was studying until a while ago, but there's something I don't understand.

Emma: Would you mind helping me with it?

Gilbert: Oh, I'd love to cuddle up with the cheating little rabbit right now.

Emma: I'm not cheating. ...Is this not good enough?

I quickly check that there's no one around and stand on tiptoe to kiss him again.

As his cold lips warm up, the dream fades from my mind.

Gilbert: It can't be helped.

Gilbert: I'll teach you while we cuddle.

Emma: I don't think that will help me study...

Gilbert: What was that?

Emma: ...No, thank you. I'll do my best!

Gilbert laughs amusedly and starts walking, holding my hand.

The dependability of this hand hasn't changed, past or present.

(All I can do now is acquire weapons to protect Gilbert, one by one.)

(...Study hard, learn more about Obsidian...)

(I want to be a support for Gilbert, who became a villain for the sake of others.)

(I want him to be able to live peacefully from now on, instead of carrying everything on his shoulders alone.)

I squeeze his hand back.

Strongly, tightly, so that we'll never be apart again.

(I will create a world where the Conquering Beast can be at peace as a human.)

(There's no more need for blood in Gilbert's future.)

FIN

.

.

.

. Thank you for reading! | YouTube SE in JP

If you have all 4 Parts for another Prince and would like to have them translated, or help everyone out by letting me translate them here, please feel free to message me and send the videos to me!

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)