#You know it's fucked when a creature of horror sits next to you in the dream and goes: “So... What's the latest thing making you happy?”

[kenhowler2004]

Gotta give myself a giggle. I haven't had an actual dream since I was 8. My ENTIRE life since then I have dream catchers up, so many plush toys around me at night, and I recently started to listen to a calming soothing playlist of my own creation. Why? If I were to put the aspect of my dreams and nightmares on a scale: to me a dream is no different than a nightmare and I'm lucky to even have one. I dream of such vivid and horrific visuals and sensations that if my mind was put into the NiGHTS franchise Wizeman would tremble and shake at the horrors I tend to endure in the night.

[neighbourscat]

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏 , nicholas alexander chavez

THE LIFE-CHANGING EDIT.

𓈒  ˙ ꪆৎ   ꣹  ۫  𖨂 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 . .. . celeb!nicholas c. X non-celeb!black!fem!reader || second person ( you, yours, you’re ) + lowercase intended.

+ synopsis. when watching horror movies with your boyfriend leaves you waking throughout the night, you resort to social media to distract you from your disturbing thoughts. scrolling and scrolling, you find yourself on the steamy side of tiktok; your boyfriend the face of this new era.

+ cw. brief description of horror documentary ( no specific title ). mature language! established relationship, painfully horny reader // somnophilia, unprotected sex, dirty talk, cock-warming for a bit, multiple orgasms + orgasm denial, creampie.

+ nali’s notes; pure filth. wordcount :: 2.6k+

+ to be played: back to sleep, chris brown. || alternative: p power, gunna ( no drake, ver ).

THE LIFE-CHANGING EDIT.

you knew you shouldn’t have gave into your boyfriend’s request for a ‘horror movie’ night. it was the first night of october, so you figured why not ( and you regret that ). you prepared trays of snacks; anything you could find in the pantry: chocolate covered pretzels, leftover tostitos chips and spicy cheese dip — which you couldn’t eat at all, unfortunately. you couldn’t understand how your boyfriend could watch those scenes and continue to stuff his face. like the one with the human man meat-grinding another human man; breaking him down to bits and pieces in order to better dispose of him.

after the second and final movie, you told nicholas to lock up once more — your level of paranoia astronomical. there would be no recovering from those movies, especially not in the month of october — “no one is coming in here,” nicholas said for the fifth time, teasingly, crunching up the empty bag of tostitos. “you don’t know that,” you had said, peeking through the cozy throw blanket. you were sitting criss-crossed, nicholas’s pumpkin-blanket outlined around your face and body.

nicholas laughed to himself, licking at his salty fingers. you saw as he turned his back toward you and started for the kitchen to wash his hands — leaving you all alone in the living area. you tensed, scrunching your knees up to your chest and becoming a tight ball.

on any regular night — when your imagination wasn’t filled with slideshows of dismembered human bodies ( mostly children’s. you swore tv-people couldn’t show that shit on television, even if it was all makeup ) or a creature that melted people and used their gushy remains to grow in height, weight, and strength — you would have the window blinds snapped closed, leaving you and your boyfriend in pitch black darkness.

not tonight. fuck that.

after jumping into bed and diving under the blanket, you demanded your boyfriend to open the blinds — and to leave them wide open. you felt like a small girl again, needing her nightlight and closet doors firmly closed. the jackets that you and nicholas had hooked on the walls were also placed into the closet. the reason why they were out on the wall in the first place, was because there was no room in the closet. but nicholas made room — needing to shut your complaining.

you were in and out of sleep for the next four hours. twisting and turning, latching yourself onto nicholas’ arm or his torso, scrolling through instagram and tiktok; sending your close friends reels and responding to fan accounts of nicholas’ — but you straightened up a bit when an edit took over your screen.

without a second thought, without a slight consideration or hesitation — you hearted the video, added it to your favourites, saved the video to your phone, and commented an excessive amount of heart-eye emojis. and when you scrolled up . .. . you scrolled back down to rewatch the edit. you propped yourself onto an elbow, letting it play and play over and over again. and suddenly, the dark hadn’t been so scary anymore. you kept the volume down low, the lyrics of ‘p-power’ by gunna faint; as well as the moaning in the background.

you pulled your eyes from your phone screen, only for a second at the low sound of nicholas tugging the blanket up to his chest. he rolled onto his side and let out a low breath, the moonlight illuminating his features. you raked your fingers through his hair and with your other hand, you swiped over to view the profile and watched more edits of your boyfriend — finding that over thirty minutes had gone; thirty minutes of watching your boyfriend do his job ( hotly ).

nicholas turned onto his backside once again, pushing the blanket downward and away from his bare chest. his sleeping form was always . .. . too tempting not to feel a little tingling on your insides. nicholas liked sleeping with only his briefs on and no matter how normal that was, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander around; even more so after liking and saving all of those edits.

there was something about actually having him here beside you. there’s something in the way his body was ( so toned and muscular ) spread out on his side of the bed and the way his face is as calm as the waters of a lake during a summer evening, or maybe . .. . it was the little tent between his legs that his boxers revealed, that increased your body temperature.

turning off your phone, you felt bad for being turned on just by the way he looked when he was asleep . .. . perhaps it was the effect love had on you or it was just another kink or the velocity edits, you didn’t know yet, but the aching burn in your stomach didn’t stop you from cuddling up beside him.

you rested your head on his spread arm and snuggled your face into the crook of his neck. the familiar scent made you smile and, for a short moment, you thought you could stay like this. maybe this is what you needed; the warmth of his relaxed body calmed you for a while, but then . .. . your hand moved like it had a mind of its own.

you trailed your fingers along his collarbones and he hummed in his sleep, shifting a bit. he looked so . .. . so cute, you couldn’t stop yourself from travelling far south, to caress his chest and abdomen as softly as possible, trying not to wake him up. and in this very moment, you felt like the luckiest woman on the planet; touching on the man that millions were so very attracted to.

you felt every muscle of his abdomen, which made your bottom lip get trapped between your teeth, to prevent a sigh from leaving you. mindlessly, you scooched in closer — your hand needed to go further down, past his sharp v-line, but you weren’t sure. your hand itched for it. for him, but your mind wouldn’t allow it just yet.

and when the slightly lined abs flexed under your touch, you immediately checked his face, afraid that you might’ve woken him —

— but his closed eyes and steady breathing told you otherwise. so, your arm moved to his exposed thigh. his skin was warm, and as you caressed and fondled with his body, the sinful thought of taking his cock out and stroking him, made you press your thighs together. the moans that would fall from his soft lips and the way he’d buck his hips up begging for more, using your soft hand to chase and tip over the edge, only made your breathing heavier.

and the thought of his brown eyes on you as you gently kissed his fiery tip and pumped the rest of him drove you crazy, to say the least. you could picture it . .. . but you wanted to taste it even more; you wanted to feel him shiver as your mouth wrapped around him. you wanted his world to center around you, your name heavy on his tongue, viscous and filling his mouth like honey until he was drowning in a pool of ecstasy.

you wanted him to cup the sides of your head in his big hands — his fingers holding your braids together in a messy ponytail — and start thrusting himself into the slick warmth of your mouth, pathetically using your throat as his own personal fleshlight, the constant flow of his thick precum and your saliva leaking onto the bed sheets. you wanted to hear him groan deep within the pits of his chest . .. .

but you closed your eyes, restricting yourself to only imagine. your mind no longer filled with horrible images of bloody corpses, but of nicholas fucking himself up into your body over and over again — the crotch of your panties were damp and at this point, you hadn’t realized how your grip on his thigh had tightened or how the muscles rippling through his skin had stiffened.

“ . .. . get on top . ..” his sleepy voice, raspy and deep, rang in your ears and you snapped your head toward him, wide-eyed. the burn in your stomach ached even more at the sight of nicholas’ still closed eyes and messy brown hair. you pushed yourself up a bit, staring down at his face. you poked at his cheek and he rubbed his eyes with a groan. he gave his thighs a pat, at which you got the message: come, and straddled his waist without any question or trouble.

“i’m sorry . .. .” you apologized lowly, feeling guilty for being the reason he was no longer sound asleep. nicholas shook his head, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and answered quietly, “don’t be sorry, pretty.” and then, “take what you need,” nicholas said under his breath and the tone made your eyes fall heavy. “you can take me.”

you leaned in and pecked his cheek, but as you pulled away he chased after your lips with a soft pout. a slow, open-mouthed kiss was all it took for the sigh you’d been holding back to finally escape you and when it did, his grip on your hips tightened. his fingers dug and dug into your brown skin, his pulse thumping and pounding. nicholas moved you a smidge, just enough to have you sitting right over his bulge — and his legs trembled, “shhit .. .” breaking the kiss.

you found his mouth again. and as you kissed; his tongue delving between your lips, your hand slid to the grown arousal — his breath hitched as your hand brushed against his hardness through the thin fabric. and you dipped your hand passed the waistband — taking him out of the obstacle that the underwear was.

you gave a clean up and down pump of your hand and nicholas groaned lowly into your mouth. as you gave another and another, he ripped his lips away from yours and tilted his head back into the pillow, the heat and pressure of your hand too delicious. it was almost too much to bear.

his muscles tensed and his breathing became shallow and ragged. nicholas could feel the intensity and pleasure building within him with every stroke of your hand. “need’ta . .. .” he mumbled, his voice low and strained. “holy shitt-oh fuck.” nicholas bit down on his lower lip, eyelids fluttering shut. he needed to be inside of you. he needed to feel your body wrapped around him. he needed you like he needed to breathe.

and when he felt your hand no longer pumping, he opened his eyes — staring up at the ceiling. “wha-what happened?” he had asked, coming to lift up . .. . and his voice died to a scratchy whisper at the feeling of you lining him up between your pussy lips. you moved your wrist; rubbing him side to side, his tip kissing at your clit and just almost pushing into your slit, collecting your syrupy slick — shivers washed your spine.

if it wasn’t for his arms helping, you wouldn’t have started pushing down. nicholas guided your hips down and the sight of his cock disappearing within you was just as overwhelming as the feel of your ribbed walls. “oh. .. . fuckkk.” he groaned deeply, his nails digging into your flesh even harder — the tightness and warmth of you brought tears to his eyes. nicholas could barely keep himself from bucking up into you . .. . but he wanted you to set the pace. he wanted you in control.

“y-you’re squeezing,” he muttered cutely, in a breathless whisper.

you hadn’t realized how needy you were until nicholas was shifting underneath you, burying his cock to the hilt — you felt full all over. you resisted the urge to pound down on him for the sake of his still sleepy daze. your hands landed on his chest for support and you raised your hips slowly.

the wetness of your cunt was enough to slip him in and out with ease — smooth gliding and a wet little smack when you touched down — and soon, you picked the pace up, just enough to hear his deep, guttural moans. you rode him slowly, feeling his tip reach deep at this angle while he eyed you with a drowsy stare. nicholas was losing his mind, his eyes now practically rolling in the back of his head. nicholas released a sharp, low breath, staring up at you then, “you’re makin’ it so hard to keep still . ..”

“you don’t even know,” he said, gritting his teeth.

raising your hips, it took quite some effort to pull him out that far because he was so girthy. your walls were literally pulling at his cock as if you didn’t want to let him go. which you didn’t. you did it slowly, terribly slow, every millimetre had your pussy lips tracing another facet of him.

a breathy moan fell from your lips, which made nicholas force you faster down on him and you clenched, instantly. “let me do it . .. .” he pleaded — the wet, squelchy sounds that came from where your body met his, was quiet enough to indicate lazy, early morning sex between lovers, and the rhythm was not a particularly quick one, but one to make the burn in your stomach feel like it’ll soon be on fire.

“let me, baby.” as you were about to give attention to your clit, nicholas planted his feet into the mattress and snapped his hips up, hitting your g-stop instantly. a muffled cry filled the room and the sudden lack of energy made you fall over him. nicholas snaked both arms around your waist and pulled you in closer, holding you firmly against his chest. “nngh-! just like that!” you whined.

your body worked with his, chasing after release.

"f-fuck-nic, please.. ." your jaw clenched so hard, you thought you were moments away from breaking your teeth.

he wanted to kiss you so badly, but the position was too good and he loved seeing the way your lips formed a small ‘O’ with every few thrusts. “baby . .. . shit, i need you’ta cum.” it was his way of hinting that he was struggling and he hoped you would understand it. “want’cha’ta look at me when you cum .. . okay?”

you gave him an eager nod, holding onto his forearms; you felt his arms flex and strain with how fast he was ramming into you. you wanted to hold it in until he came with you, but nicholas got the pump just right — your breaths were short — and you were having trouble keeping your eyes on his. it didn’t take too much longer to have you thrashing and shivering and cunning so hard. he doesn’t stop then.

his heavy breaths got mixed with curses at the feeling of your walls clenching continuously. nicholas continued to move his cock in and out of you, digging and scratching deep — hitting the spots that he knows only his tip can touch. “cum again . .. .”

“need’a feel it again.” the moonlight and his sweat made him shine, highlighting the sharpness to his jaw, the tension in his arms as he lifted you up by an inch; a slight new angle. wet skin slapping was all that could overshadow your moans and pleas. but he could hear you; loud and clear. his attention was all on you.

you might have tried to say something but your incoherent mumbles weren't meant for him to understand. because of his desperate need to keep you tethered as him, he still does not stop. you're howling, and curling into him, and cunt frothing with an orgasm lost into the next.

“s-shhit, you feel so fucking good,” he mumbled, heaving a breathless sigh. nicholas slowed his hips then; your pussy clenched so hard, so tight, that he could barely move. your clit screamed with the beating and thudding of your heart, loud in your ears and blocking the harsh cries and breathy gasps tearing from your throat.

stifled cries tickled nicholas’ neck, one hand holding your head, you trembled with your nails clawing in his shoulders for strength. he jerked up and gripped your ass tightly, but instead of forcing you to your limits till he came in you, he stilled himself — just sitting inside of you like this burned . .. . so good. nicholas had never felt so close to you, so intimately connected. he could lose himself in you forever.

nicholas was right there, quiet moans escaping him as more time passed. but it was evident that he was still holding out — you could feel his cock twitching. your hands cupped his cheeks, your fingers gently scratching the back of his ears. “why are you torturin’ yourself? hmm?” you asked softly, resting your forehead against his.

he came harder when he denied himself. “th’ build up.” it came out quiet and short and he knew if he stayed like this that he wouldn’t last much longer. “cum, baby . .. .” you pleaded, “please .. .” you squeezed him in just the right way that his chest was rising and falling rapidly. and then he couldn’t hold it in anymore — he was where he wanted to be.

“holy fuck-i’m gonna cum.” his voice was desperate.

the plastic band holding him back from his orgasm snapped as he thrusted particularly deep, and he arched his back off of the bed — letting him reach just a little deeper, just enough to send him over the edge again, more curses spilled from his lips. white filled his vision, red hot pleasure searing his body from head to toe, and you kissed him through it.

you knew you could fall asleep now.

[gallusrostromegalus]

So I may have been browsing through your AEIWAM tag and came across your writing of Komamura saying it's too hot in summer when you have a fur coat you can't take off. By that logic he's gonna always be sitting beside Hitsugaya in Captain meetings if he can swing it, especially in the early days, cause that boy is like a mini air conditioner next to him. XD

Wolves are winter creatures. The double coat, the snowshoe paws, the proclivity for cuddlepiles- if Sajin could move somewhere that never got above 40F he'd be in heaven. Alas, he lives in a major city that hits triple digits in the summer, so he keeps close track of the little pieces of winter he can find.

The first person to realize his little game was Unohana. She knew about the wolfman thing- Yamamoto trusts her as much as Sasakibe, and persuaded Sajin that, should a medical emergency arise, it should not also be a medical surprise.

She is of course, the pinnacle of Medical Confidentiality.

...but his name came up during one of the Shinigami Women's Association meetings/boozing sessions, and a distinct schism appeared.

On one side was Soi Fon, Nanao, and Herself, who all found Komamura to be very polite, professional and reliable if somewhat reticent and at times, aloof.

"I swear I can't get more than three words out of him!" Nanao despairs.

"I like him. He knows how to Shut Up." Soi Fon agrees.

"He's a very private man." Unohana nods.

Across the table, Isane and Rukia are baffled.

"Captain Komamura? Ten feet tall, bucket head? That Komamura?" Rukia the so-called Ice Princess asks, gesturing to indicate their height disparity. "What the fuck are you talking about? He's SUPER friendly and will hang around to talk FOREVER."

"Yeah, every time I go to the 7th he always asks me to stay for lunch and wants to know how everyone in my family is doing and swap horror stories from the ER for tales of crazy people in the intake queue." Agrees Isane, wielder of the ice cloud Itegumo. "It's embarrassing, but one time I was more than two hours late getting back because we get to talking!"

Everyone stares at everyone else, baffled.

"Did- did I do something to piss him off?" Wonders Nanao.

"Huh. Maybe he just picked up on how much I hate small talk on the job?" Soi Fon shrugs.

Unohana is silent, thinking.

"GUESS WHO BROUGHT TEQUILA!!" Matsumoto Rangiku announces as she kicks in the door, holding four bottles of liquor, only three of which were still full.

"We need you to settle a debate!" Rukia demands at once.

"Ooh! I love passing judgement on things that don't effect me!" Rangiku coos, sitting down, her chest making an odd 'clunk' sound on the table "- there's also salt and limes!"

"It kinda effects you." Soi Fon waved her hand noncommittally. "How would you describe Captain Komamura?"

"Tall, Heavily Armored and Mysterious?" Rangiku shrugs, pulling the box of kosher salt out of her cleavage.

"...more like his personality." Isane clarified.

"Oh! Uhh... You know what? He's one of the few people that's ever complimented me on streamlining like 80% of the paperwork we have to do." Rangiku nodded, fishing the limes out as well. "Always has stuff done waaaay before I expected and I feel like a bit of a jerk for not replying immediately, but never complains if my stuff comes in late."

"Does he hang around and talk, or is he just really businesslike?" Nanao asks, eyes narrowed behind her glasses.

"Hmm..." Fowns Rangiku. "Kinda varies by the day- Sometimes he's all business, other times he'll stay and chat. I always assumed he wants to talk but sometimes he's got work, you know?"

There is much confused muttering as the limes are cut, when Unohana raises a finger.

"...How is he with Lieutenant Hitsugaya?" She asks.

"Oh, he ADORES Toshiro!" Rangiku nods enthusiastically, salting her shot glass. "He actually does the majority of Toshiro's Bankai training now because The Old Man handed it off to him so he could focus on teaching Zaraki Everything But Kendo- which, bless him for doing that, Shiro-kin could literally freeze my tits off!- and he really does a good job listening to Toshiro's concerns and confusions- he's a sensitive boy, you know? And Koma-kun is so gentle with him and to be honest I always eavesdrop on his advice because I could use it too. Delightful man all around." She nodded, and moved to down her drink.

"...Why?" She asked, pausing her drink and glaring suspiciously at Unohana.

Unohana nods with the clarity of enlightenment. "Nothing serious, but everything makes sense now." She smiles, then cracks into a small giggle. "It's rather charming, actually."

"Care to elaborate?" Soi Fon grumbles.

"Yeah that answered NOTHING." Rangiku glares.

"We noticed an interesting disparity in his behavior." Unohana explains, pushing her own glass towards Rangiku to fill. "For me, Captain Fon, and Lieutenant Ise, Komamura-Taicho is very polite, but sticks to the matter at hand and will not volunteer any further conversation. For Lieutenant Koetetsu, Miss Kuchiki and apparently Lieutenant Hitsugaya, he has all the time in the world and is quite the chatterbox."

"...Weird." Rangiku frowns, intrigued by the puzzle. "For me it's like, half and half?"

"Not quite, I think." Unohana smirks. "What do Isane, Rukia and young Toshiro all have in common?"

The Resounding Silence of Thinking Very Hard around the table was a bit of a disappointment, but they were about three bottles into the evening already.

"Can't be Height." Nanao hummed. "Rukia and Shiro-Kun are shorter than a stack of pancakes but Isane's got legs that are too long for the cover of Vouge."

"Isane and Toshiro are both silver-haired, but not me, and he doesn't seem to be particularly close to Ukitake-Taicho and I think I've actually seen him run out of a room to avoid Gin." Rukia puzzled.

"What? RUDE." Rangiku protested.

"They're all under a century old, right?" Rangiku pondered.

"No, I'm almost two hundred!" Isane sighed. "Oh wait- we all graduated early from the Academy!"

"Ehhhh, I graduated because I got adopted, I'm not a genius like you and Shiro-kun." Rukia waved. "Also, how would HE know that?"

"You're all Lieutenants!" Rangiku perked up.

"Not yet I'm not!" Rukia protested.

"Pfsh- you run half the division anyway. Jushiro should promote you to Co-lieutenant with Kaien already!" Rangiku waved.

"Its- it's complicated." Rukia mumbled. "Also, Nanao-chan is a Lieutenant and he doesn't like her!"

"Does it have to do with how freakishly huge he is?" Soi Fon asked.

"...Yes, actually." Unohana decided. Sajin might not have so much trouble thermoregulating if he was the size of a regular wolf. She reasoned privately.

"Also, He likes Nanao-chan just fine as far as I know. I think it's less about how much he enjoys your company- which I think he does, he's not one for putting on facades- and more about how much he enjoys your Proximity." She clarified, taking her shot. "Oh, this is good, what is it?"

"Cabrito Blanco." Rangiku read off. "Huh. The Cabrito on the label sure ain't Blanco." She frowned at the brown goat.

"None of us have transferred out of the Division we started in, but again, how would he know? and that hasn't got anything to do with Proximity..." Isane frowned.

Rukia slammed her glass down. "WOW that's got a kick. Maybe uhhhh... None of us wear perfume, but Gin doesn't either. I hope. I don't want to get close enough to find out."

"He's really not that bad-" Rangiku sulked. "OH, 'Blanco' refers to the tequila and this is that goat's white tequila!" She realized.

"Sometimes I wish I could take a weekend vacation in your brain. Its machinations fascinate me." Soi Fon teased. "Hmmm... Lotta close but no Cigar, you're all young-ish, Isane and Toshiro have living relatives and Rukia has a large adopted family, but again, not exclusive or Proximal. You're also all S-rank duelists with- OH!"

"Shh, I'm enjoying the flailing." Retsu grinned.

"Pfff- okay, that is kinda cute and I don't blame him." Soi Fon giggled. "Sometimes I'm real glad my seat is right next to The Old Man for the same reason. Or opposite reason, I guess."

"Bwah?" Rangiku frowned.

"I do the same thing with You, Momo and The Old Man that He's doing with them." Soi Fon grinned. Rangiku frowned, peculiar machinations grinding slowly through the tequila, before she suddenly cackled, head thrown back so hard Unohana had to reach out and grab her by the scarf to keep her from tipping her chair over.

"OH NOOOOOOOO!!" She wailed, shoulders shaking. "Oh- that's cute but Toshiro can NEVER find out he'll be such a brat about it!"

"Sorry I'm late, I had to finish the latest report on the Rice Farm Subsidy Fraud Investigation!" Momo panted, jogging in late. "-What can't Toshiro find out about?"

"There is SOMETHING that You, ran-chan and Yamamoto-sama share, and it's the same thing but backwards as what Me, Hitsugaya, and Isane have in common that Komamura-taicho really likes it or something, and THEY know but won't TELL US and its MAKING ME CRAZY!" Rukia wailed.

Momo stood, expression blank for a few moments. "Wait. You didn't know?"

"KNOW WHAT?" Rukia wailed.

"That Komamura hangs around with people with Ic-Mmpf!" Momo started to reveal but was abruptly tackled and the rest of the sentence smothered in Rangiku's Cleavage.

"With WHAT?" Nanao demanded. "What do they have that I don't?"

"-Hang on." Isane frowned, the slowly turned to her captain, squinting. "Is. Is this a... Physics Issue?"

"That's one way to phrase it." Unohana smiled as Momo flailed for air.

"Oh my Gooooood..." Isane groaned. "Why doesn't he just ASK? I'd happily go over and give Itegumo some practice, I hate summertime too!"

"Huh?" Rukia glared, as Momo finally fought her way free and gasped for air.

"Itegumo? That's your- ohhhhhhh." Nanao realized. "That's. Okay yeah that's actually really cute." She giggled. "Poor guy. The armor can't help with that, can it?"

"That's what I keep telling him but it's-" Unohana waved her hands and grimaced with frustration. "-He wears the armor because he's facing the *stupidest* form of Political Persecution I've ever heard of." she sighed.

"Really?" Asked Momo. "Captain Tousen said Komamura told him it's because he's got a major disfigurement or something?"

Unohana sighed and rolled her eyes. "Komamura is FINE, he's just- It's complicated and medically private but trust me, the helmet is a reasonable precaution against an absurd problem."

"Oh." Momo winced. "Well, I'm glad he's medically alright at least!" "I'm so fucking confused." Rukia whimpered, deflating over the table in despair. "Is. Is hanging out with me making him less sick or something??"

"...Yes!" Unohana smiled. "Or at least, makes his condition more physically comfortable."

Rukia turned that over a few times. "...Talking with him is helping?"

"Yes, but only if you're in the same room with him. Doesn't work over the phone." Unohana nodded.

"Okay." Rukia said, reaching for the nearest bottle. "Lets talk about something else."

---

Years Later, after the Bedlam of her attempted execution and Subsequent Rescue, Rukia finally saw Komamura's face.

It was a bit awkward, walking into the hospital room in search of her brother to find a nine-and-a-half foot tall wolfman wearing the Seventh Division Captain's Haori visiting Momo. It took her a moment to realize who he was, and another as some neurons connected and she squawked indignantly, pointing at him.

"My apologies, Lieutenant Kuchiki, but-" He sighed, ears flattening back against his head with Chargin.

"AIR CONDITIONING?!?!" She bellowed.

Komamura scrunched back, chagrined. For a massive apex predator, he did an excellent Kicked Puppy face.

"Rukia!" Momo protested faintly from her hospital bed. "Keep your voice down, I don't want Toshiro to find out!"

"Find out what?" Hitsugaya grunted, stepping out from behind Rukia.

"Ah, Well-" Komamura started to explain.

Rukia rounded on Hitsugaya, pointing behind her at the captain. "THIS JACKASS HAS BEEN EXTRA NICE TO YOU, ME AND ISANE BECAUSE WE ALL HAVE ICE-TYPE ZANPAKUTO AND CHILL THE AIR AROUND US!"

"...Summer is very uncomfortable when you have a fur coat you can't take off." Komamura winced.

"Uh, duh?" Hitsugaya rolled his eyes, strolling into the room. "I didn't know you were chilling Koetetsu and Kuchiki here as well, but I kinda figured you enjoyed the cold when you stayed at my Bankai training like, five times longer than Gramps ever did."

"My apologies for the deception." Komamura bowed his head.

"It's no big deal." Hitsugaya shrugged, putting a hand up to indicate he wanted help up onto the hospital bed, and Komamura obliged.

"See? I use you being tall too." he smirked.

Komamura sighed fondly as the boy sat down between him and Momo. "Momo makes me chill all her juice too, but she never seems to warm up my tea." he handed her a juice box from the vending machine down the hall, covered in condensation.

"It would explode." Momo grumbled.

"Skill Issue." He shrugged and she affectionately swatted him on the leg. "Anyway, don't dogs cool off through their paws?"

"I'm from a wolf clan, but yes." Komamura cocked his head with curiosity, then alarm when Toshiro casually grabbed his forearm and started tugging his Gauntlets off.

"I don't mind being a human ice pack, especially not when it's nintey-eight freakin' degrees out, but be efficient about it, yeah?" Toshiro grumbled, tossing the gauntlet aside and plopping Komamura's pawlike hand on top of his head.

"...Thank you." Komamura smiled gently, and ruffled his hair a bit.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Hitsugaya shrugged, playing the tough guy even as his ears turned red. "At least you're polite about it! Freakin' Zaraki literally just grabbed me- like, put his whole arm through the office window! and threw me over his shoulders once. Jerk."

"TOSHIRO!" Momo yelped, hand on her face. "You almost made juice come out of my nose!" She half-giggled while Rukia snort-laughed at the mental image.

"Hey Kuchiki!" Hitsugaya growled. "He's got two paws!"

"You can't boss me around! You don't outrank me anymore!" She grinned.

"I have seniority." he teased, and the bed started to shake as Komamura tried not to laugh.

"You really don't need to-" Komamura tried to diffuse the argument. His voice was rock-steady but the wide grin betrayed him.

"You gotta follow my orders though!" Ukitake said cheerfully, appearing in the door. "Hi Lieutenant Hinamori!"

"C-captain!" Rukia yelped, spinning around to Salute. "What are your orders, Sir?

"Shh, nothing's happening. But I did hear you squawking from two floors down, so what's happening?" Ukitake smiled down at her.

"Captain Komamura has APPARENTLY been hanging around me and the other Shinigami with Ice Zanpakuto and using us as Air Conditioners!" Rukia glared up at her commanding officer.

"...Rukia," Ukitake patted her head and smiled gently. "Do you remember where Lieutenant Kaien's desk was?"

"Second door on the left, right next to your office, Sir!" She nodded.

"Right! And where's your desk?" Ukitake asked, leaning in closer to her.

Rukia blinked, confused. "...It's immediately adjacent to your desk in your offi- GOD DAMMIT! NOT YOU TOO?"

"Yep!" Ukitake cheerfully patted her head and then palmed it to turn her around to face Komamura. "Hop to it!"

"Technically, I got the Idea from him, when I saw how he'd rearranged the furniture..." Komamura whispered as he helped her up onto the bed as well and Rukia groaned in defeat, settling next to Komamura where she could sulk at her captain from over the wolfman's broad shoulders.

"Oh, stop pouting!" Ukitake teased, sitting down on the chair beside Momo's bed and leaning back. "It'll be winter soon enough. Actually, Your friend Mr. Yasutora told me about a fascinating wintertime holiday in the Living World-"

[corazondebeskar-reads]

of rage and ruin - chapter five

of rage and ruin series

chapter five

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

werewolf!alpha!Joel Miller x f!omega!reader

word count: 3.7k

summary: the moon brings about a new change for you and joel.

chapter warnings: dark, dead dove do not eat, a/b/o, alpha/omega dynamics, omegaverse, captivity, canon-typical violence, genre-typical violence, horror themes, graphic violence, abuse by captors (not by either joel or reader), depiction of injury, body horror, typical raider/hunter behavior, mention of cordyceps, angst, viewer discretion is advised, discussions of breeding but this is not a pregnancy story

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

When the moon ebbs enough for him to let go of the creature, you’ve been a frequent visitor in his cell. They never leave you overnight, and most days, you’re in your room for breakfast and dinner (though you’re slightly better fed in his).

Like clockwork, the wolf has curled around you, an ever-present inner tube to float you through the endless days. There’s not much to do here in captivity, no enrichment in your enclosure, so instead, you pet his fur and watch the way his eyes follow noises from the upper floor that you can’t hear. He knows when they’re coming far before you do, not that it matters. Not that you can do anything to protect yourselves, to prepare for them.

He doesn’t use his tongue on you again. Maybe it should be comforting, that he was just helping, or that he just had a thirst for blood, but it’s not. Cheryl’s question pecks at your brain until it weeps.

Why hasn’t he done… that? You would have said he wasn’t the type, wasn’t that out of control, wasn’t a real monster. 

But she said he had done it before. Claimed, violated another omega. 

And he still hasn’t taken the fucking chance to explain anything to you. 

You grow tired of it near the new moon. 

He’s corralled you away from the cold corner where your cage used to be, a goal you only figured out when he put his teeth on the chain between your handcuffs and began to pull you after ages of nudging had left you both frustrated at the inability to communicate. 

Now you sit nestled in the embrace of his great, furry body on his mattress. It is, admittedly, more comfortable than you’ve been since they took you. The mattress sucks, but it hurts your ass less than the tile, and your back yearns to rest there instead of the locker room bench. 

He curls the bulk of his body in the corner, you tucked within, but it was never meant for two humans, let alone one human and one… more than human. His elongated, thick limbs spill out over the edge, but it gets easier every day to look at him without feeling nauseated by the sheer otherness of his mutated body.

And he’s warm. It’s fucking frigid down here, and your sports bra and thin cotton panties do little to ease the shivers. But the wolf is warm and soft and mostly content to let you doze there. 

You try not to think about why. Why this terrifying apex predator is treating you more like a teddy bear than a snack. Why you’re not more afraid, why you find yourself absentmindedly petting him and putting up no argument as he shuffles you around as he pleases.

“Is this all you did all day before, too?” you ask quietly one afternoon, tired of the way your brain rots and drips out from between your thighs. Sitting here in the silence, with nothing to distract you from his oaky musk, has you leaking that thin, sticky slick like a faucet. He doesn’t seem to mind that you’re dampening the mattress.

Joel huffs, a puff of hot air ruffling the fur on his arm where his head is resting. Despite your frequent naps, you don’t seem to have taken to his crepusculent nature yet. He rumbles, not quite a growl, and closes his eyes so you get the hint.

You don’t. It’s not long before he feels your pointy finger jabbing at his side. “Hey,” you say. “Why haven’t you turned back?”

This time, he does growl, a soft warning of a thing. The wolf doesn’t want the man, and the man doesn’t want you. Or, well. He does. That’s the problem, after all. His human mind stays stubbornly shut, content to let the beast deal with you instead.

It becomes impossible to ignore. He spends his days wrapped around you, trying to ease the tiny tremors. But you’re cold, so cold, and even his body heat isn’t enough. 

In fact, it almost makes it worse when he has to get up, leaving you alone on the little bed with scraps to wear. 

Joel doesn’t make requests. He doesn’t debase himself to beg them for anything. When he has to? Sure. He has and will again someday humiliate himself for water. But never for anything remotely unnecessary. 

But you’re cold. 

Now, his reticence makes this harder. He doesn’t ask for things, so they know they’ve won already when he does. 

They made him care about this girl, about you, and he can’t hide it. Can’t hide from it. Can’t protect you, can’t protect himself from their manipulations. 

But they’ve known since they brought you in. They knew they figured it out and had him made when he got territorial. 

So not only do they make him beg, they make him work for it. 

It’s only the new moon when he asks, and they make him wait.

Two weeks. He can’t take it. 

The wolf doesn’t let him sleep often; he just paces. Paces and paces and paces, even though it makes you a little nervous.

Even worse? He likes you a little nervous. It makes him nauseous and giddy at the same time. 

But cold? That’s just unacceptable. 

Protect, the wolf whispers. Provide. 

The man comes back. His graying hair is ruffled and damp; little droplets of water still cling to his chest and flatten the hair on his stomach. You keep your eyes above the waist, but not quick enough to unsee the way his heavy, flaccid cock lies thick against the plush bed of his balls. It twitches under your gaze, which you lift to find his on you, dark and full of warning. 

You shouldn’t be this affected. He’s been walking around nude the whole time you’ve been here. And yet, there’s a rush of warmth flooding you, a tell-tale beat at your core.

Oh. No, it’s an actual flood of warmth. The apple blossom tang of your slick is strong enough that you can smell it, the glistening of your thighs and matted hair between betraying you.

His brows pinch, lip caught between teeth. “We need to talk.”

It’s funny—the universal dread behind those words. This is not when your mother sat you down to break the news of your dog’s passing; this is not when your high school boyfriend decided to have that conversation in a bottlenecked hallway outside the cafeteria. This is a virtual stranger, and yet, that phrase still sends your heart rate skittering and your stomach seizing. 

You don’t realize you’ve frozen up until he makes a very irritating tch-tch with his tongue against his teeth. 

“Did you hear me, girl? I need to talk to you. And you need to listen.”

“Hi Joel, nice to see you; it’s been a while,” you say instead.

He rolls his eyes. “I’ve been here the whole damn time.”

“Incredibly convenient that when you want to talk, you can be a person, but when I’m bored and lonely in here with your furry ass, you can’t be bothered.”

“First of all,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face like he’s already exhausted, “you talked plenty for the both of us. Second—” He glares as you open your mouth indignantly— “ second, this is important. And it’s important now.”

You shut your mouth. 

“Oh, good, you do know how,” he mutters.

“I’m sorry, is my presence here a bother? Let me just pack up and go home. Oh, wait.” 

You don’t know why you’re doing this. The residual bitterness you had scrubbed clean from your lungs is bubbling anew. How dare he have an attitude with you?

He growls. Honest to god growls, even though he’s human, because he can’t truly be, really. Not anymore. The lines between wolf and man are not as fortified as he likes to pretend.

They never really were.

That’s neither here nor there to Joel right now, though. What matters is that you knock this off and listen . “We ain’t got time for this,” he says. “I shoulda realized sooner, but I didn’t. I don’t know how much time we got, but I ain’t about to let you go into this blind.” 

Your anger is snuffed by his icy tone, making way for the dread to creep back in. 

He sits down with a huff, bare ass on the cold, cratered floor, putting a good half the room between you. A spike of guilt at having stolen his bed rises. At least you have underwear to put between you and the tile. 

The guilt festers when he tosses you a small gray bundle. 

It’s a blanket.

It’s worn and torn, certainly, and it’s thin. But it’s a blanket. 

You’re actually speechless, looking up at him and opening and closing your mouth like a fish. 

“Don’t make a big deal about it,” he says gruffly, so you shut your mouth and nod.

“Thanks,” is all you say, and he grunts in response. 

You run your hands over the soft fleece and bite your lip. It seems less important to listen to him right now than it is to spread the blanket out on the mattress. You’re aware of his wary stare as you change the positioning over and over before uselessly fluffing the sad, flat pillow and setting it at the top of the bed. 

“Shit,” he says. “We got less time than I thought.”

Once you’re satisfied with your one and only “home decoration,” you settle back on the mattress and regard him. “Before what?”

“Before your heat, baby,” he says with forced caution. 

Your brain fizzles, like holding Pop Rocks in the back of your throat, when he calls you baby. You should be pissed. If it were any other man calling you something like that apropos of nothing, you’d be pissed.

But Joel says it, and you lose your train of thought. 

For all that you’ve malfunctioned from it, Joel doesn’t seem to notice the slip of his tongue. He’s watching you expectantly, which brings the rest of his sentence to the surface.

“Before what?” you say, even though deep down, you know. Even if you didn’t have context for the word, you feel it. What was a low simmer is molten, now, as it churns in your abdomen, leaking from your cunt. 

He grimaces. “I know how this is gonna sound. I promise I’m not tryin’ to pull anything over on ya,” he says, hands raised in supplication. “But you gotta know before it’s too late.”

His jaw ticks as he chews on the words he doesn’t want to taste before spitting them out between you. “Look, it ain’t like anyone knows a whole lot about our… conditions. But that’s what they call it.” He glances up at the ceiling, no doubt listening to the raiders stomping around above. “Best guess is a biological breeding imperative. But you’re going to get real… needy. It’s gonna hurt. And I’m not going to be able to stop myself. ” 

You consider this, turning it over and over like a gas station hot dog roller. The image of his cock fits a little too well there, but that’s the long and short of it, isn’t it? 

Well. There isn’t anything short about it. No, you can’t follow that path right now. You blink and notice he’s staring, waiting for some kind of— any kind of reaction, and clear your throat. “Why?”

You’re not really sure what you’re asking, just looking to take whatever semblance of an answer he can muster.

“Because it’s going to hurt you, and you’re going to beg me to help, and I’m not gonna be able to say no.”

“That seems wildly unfair to you.”

He sputters. “To-to me? Aren’t you listening? I’m telling you I’m going to lose control and violate you while you’re vulnerable, and you’re worried about what’s fair to me?” 

“Well, it’s obviously unfair to me too,” you counter. “But, like. Okay, whatever, far be it for me to think you should have some say in this.” 

He scrubs his hand over his face, scratches at his beard, and heaves a heavy sigh. A three-for-one in what you’re starting to understand as Joel for “Jesus fucking Christ.”

He completes the set for you. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters, and then glowers when you snort a wry laugh. 

He stands up and paces. It’s the first time you’ve really seen him behave like the wolf while remaining the man. It also, unfortunately, makes it very hard not to look at his cock. He catches you looking and groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Sorry,” you say, shifting uncomfortably on the mattress. 

“Ain’t your fault,” he says, resuming his figure eight. 

You sit, picking at the skin around the nailbed of your left index finger until it bleeds, bringing it to your mouth to soothe the sting. 

“Don’t do that,” he scolds when the blood blossoms, but you’re too lost in the realization of what’s coming to listen.

“It’s going to hurt?” you ask finally.

“Yeah, it’s going to fucking hurt,” he snaps and then sighs, shoulders slumping a little. “It’s going to make you feel like you’ll die if you don’t… if I don’t…” 

“So, hold up. You get super strength, super hearing, super sharp teeth, and like mighty morphin fursuit powers, and I get… so horny it hurts?”

“What is wrong with you?” he mutters, but you ignore him.

“That’s so fucked. Is there anything cool about being an… an omega?” You don’t like the shape of the word on your tongue, spitting it out. It leaves behind a caustic taste.

“You’re more likely to carry to term successfully than human women,” he says flatly.

The caustic feeling spreads to the twitch of your lip. “Oh, come on. Fucking typical FEDRA. They accidentally created werewolves with a side dose of sexism.”

His jaw ticks. “First of all, we ain’t werewolves. ”

“Uh, you are. You, for sure, are a werewolf,” you interrupt.

The line between his brow deepens, like this conversation is taking years off his life. “Don’t say that,” he says, closing his eyes. “Do not say that again.”

“Dude. You howl at the fucking moon. You turn into a huge hairy beast, all ‘the better to eat you with’ style, like, you’re a motherfucking werewolf.” 

He sits down, shaking his head. “Can you quit it?” he barks. Well, not literally. You’ve heard him literally bark. This is just rude. 

Except, there’s a teeny, tiny quirk to the corner of his mouth. “Anyway,” he grunts. “It ain’t sexist. Anyone can be an omega.”

“Ok, but still. You get superpowers, and I get a super uterus.”

“I didn’t say it was fair."

You sigh. 

“You’re being remarkably calm,” he notes, a little less gruffness and a little more concern in his tone.

“I can panic if you’d like,” you say with a wry grin. “It just doesn’t seem like it’ll help matters.”

“You’re getting complacent,” he counters.

“I learned it by watching you,” you say, mimicking the higher inflection.

He narrows his eyes. “You ain’t old enough to remember that commercial,” he says.

“You don’t have a clue how old I am,” you counter. There’s a surprising lightness in your chest. For all that you and Joel haven’t really spoken beyond the few tense encounters, talking to him is almost fun. 

Or maybe you’re really that deep in the Stockholm Syndrome now.

Is it still Stockholm Syndrome if he’s not your captor? Because you sure aren’t warming up to Jim and Cheryl. 

When you look back up at Joel, he’s watching you with furrowed brows and a deep-set scowl, the lines around his mouth like cracks in a sidewalk. 

It’s haunting, his seriousness. 

“What happened to your last omega?” you ask, finally letting the ghoul out from under your bed, hoping his words will disperse it.

“I killed him,” Joel says flatly. 

“Oh.”

The silence settles again, less like a shawl and more like the space between the crackle of the intercom summoning you to the principal’s office and the long walk down the empty hall. 

This time, though, your grandma isn’t waiting on the other side. There’s only the big bad wolf. 

“I didn’t mean to,” he says after a long while. “It was different. He wasn’t mine. But that doesn’t mean you’re safe.”

“What do you mean he wasn’t yours? I’m… also not yours.”

Joel grimaces, which only serves to let the shadows twist his face further. “Yeah, ya are,” he says solemnly. “Sorry. But ya’ve been mine since they brought you in here. Or, the beast’s, anyway.”

His words settle in your stomach like the Edmund Fitzgerald, and all you can do is watch from the dry side of a glass-bottomed tour boat. You’ve been mine since they brought you in here. 

There’s not much room left in you for levity, now. 

“So that’s it?” you say quietly. “What, I’m going to just have to hope you don’t tear me to shreds while you… while you…”

“I don’t think it’ll hurt you,” he says of his other half. You find the way he speaks of himself so perplexing. You tend to split them, too, but for him to see himself in fragments is enlightening. 

And sad. 

“But…” he sighs, the burden of what he’s about to ask of you sinking its teeth in, “you can’t fight me. You gotta just… shit, you gotta just take it. If you fight, it might fight back.”

His gruff baritone and its potent words, the low hint of a twang and the undercurrent of a klaxon, put your stomach through a cotton candy machine, wrapping the tendrils of your anxiety into a nice bundle to choke on. 

He sees the fear in your eyes and oh, he hates it. The wolf is snapping its jaw around his neck for it. How dare he scare you like this? How dare he threaten his girl? The beast is all teeth and fury and protect protect protect and he doesn’t even notice the change start until you suddenly say, “don’t.”

Don’t. 

That’s all it takes.

You watch as the claws recede along with his fur. 

“That’s not fair,” you whisper. “You stay here and talk to me about it.”

It stings much in the same way as the time he accidently got his jaws around a porcupine. It was early days in his new life, and in the height of starving season. His desperation cost him then but he wouldn’t let it now. 

He settles back down, gritting his teeth. “You’re right. It ain’t fair,” he agrees. “Ain’t nothin’ about this fair to you.”

When it comes, it bears no warning. Maybe because it’s your first heat, you don’t recognize the signs. 

True to his word, the man has stayed, though he warned you he couldn’t keep the beast at bay for long. The gibbous is waxing, fattening, bloating above you each night and it’s nearly sounded its call when the fever takes you.

You’re in your room when your abdomen seizes with the first cramp. There’s no mistaking it for your period. It comes with purpose, with rage, the sole horseman of your downfall.

Okay, maybe downfall is a little dramatic. 

But you have barely had time to gasp at the wrenching of your insides before he’s calling out to you from across the hall. 

You don’t answer, gritting your teeth as you throb at the sound of his voice, and he calls, instead, for them. 

He’s never addressed them first, never voiced a need, never invited them into your subterranean den willingly.

And you know.

“Fucking disgusting,” Jim scoffs as he unlocks the door to your room. 

“Don’t touch her,” Joel snaps, pressed against the bars with both hands wrapped tightly around them. 

You think Jim makes some kind of threat toward you, but there’s none needed. It doesn’t occur to you to run, which haunts you later. In the haze of your aching body, every muscle tensed and ready, you let the call of the moon draw you to Joel, grabbing for his hands through the bars as soon as you can reach.

There’s something in his eyes that you don’t want to see. Something too close to pity, so you don’t look at his face. 

Jim has to snap at you both and threaten the shock collar to get you to move away from the door. Joel, still mostly sound of mind, moves obediently to the back of the cell as Jim opens it, letting you stumble past the barrier before the clang echoes. 

Joel catches you before you fall, and you grasp his forearms. The room is warm, suffocatingly so, and he looks increasingly concerned with each passing second. 

“Too hot,” you whine, still digging your fingernails into his roughened flesh, the gruff hair a balm to your itchy, ill-fitting skin. Your body yearns for the change, to shift and settle into something closer to him, closer to what the moon wants you to be.

“I know,” he croons, sinking to his knees and holding you with your back to his chest, legs sprawled. His hand strokes your head, brushing sweat from your clammy skin. You catch his hand in both of yours, holding it up in front of you and following the lines of his palm, letting your fingertips test the tip of his claws, stroking the hair on the back of each finger.

“So thick,” you marvel.

He sighs, hot breath skittering across the back of your neck. “How’re you so far gone already,” he mutters, not really a question. 

Your head spins. “I’m right here,” you say, eliciting another sigh. 

“I know,” he placates again before he does something that sends your whole body into overdrive.

He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I know,” he repeats. “I’ve got ya. It’s gonna be okay.” 

It isn’t, you think, as the twitching of your shoulders and legs sets off quiet alarms. It isn’t, because there’s no coming back from this. You know this, but right now? Here, in his arms, with his quiet rumbling voice and that kiss? Well, what happens next just isn’t your problem.

He inhales deeply, his lips still pressed to your head, and it slips from you without warning, without intent.

“Alpha,” you whimper on pure instinct, and he knows.

Oh, he knows.

It’s too late for either of you, now. 

next chapter

[ponderingmoonlight]

Can we get a yuta x fem!reader where he saves reader in Shibuya just in time after not seeing her this whole year?

sounds like a plan to me, let's do it hehe

Yuta saving your ass in Shibuya

Pairing: Yuta x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,7k

Synopsis: You have enough. After fighting for multiple hours in Shibuya, you are the brink of giving up your life, of giving up the pondering about a future with Yuta. Little do you know he's already on his way to Shibuya...

Warnings: language, TW! reader accepts the threat of death (and kinda wants to die), angst but comfort, not fully proofread

„Fuck!“, you cry on top of your lungs, bruised fingertips digging themselves into the debris underneath.

You are so damn tired. Tired of the horrible things you had to endure on this cursed evening, tired of all the senseless fighting, tired of death crawling up your spine. Maybe you just have to realize that your time has come, that you’ll be next. After all those people losing their lives today, it’s finally your turn.

“I’ve done enough”, you mutter to yourself.

The countless creatures in front of you cry out while storming towards you again. The people behind you scream in horror, so scared of dying that it wrenches your heart.

Why? Why do you have to be so damn emotional about this, so wrecked by their helplessness? You shouldn’t bother about their fate at all, should just sit here and await your very own relief in silence.

But instead, you lift yourself back up and draw your sword. Again and again, you slash into their bodies, paint the town around you in purple. Every fiber of your being begs you to stop, to just run away and never return, to sit down and let them slice your head off to end this madness once and for all.

It was definitely easier when he was still around. Yuta Okkotsu, special grade, probably the strongest after Satoru.

And the boy you hopelessly fell in love with until he decided to leave you behind. It’s been a year since you’ve last seen him, a year since you really talked to each other. Damn, how much you wished to see him one more time before you die, to at least tell him about your unwavering feelings. Why the hell are you so attached to him after all this time anyway?

But Yuta Okkotsu isn’t enough. The unsaid words between you two aren’t enough motivation to keep going after you’ve seen Nanami die, after both of Toge’s arms got sliced off, after Sukuna almost killed you.

No. You are so damn tired of it all. Fuck your pathetic life, fuck those people you don’t even know.

“I…I can’t…do…it…anymore”, you huff out.

Like in slow motion, your bloody blades glides out of your weak grip, falling onto the ground with a loud clinking.

This is it. Your final moment on this earth. Maybe that huge curse will bite your head off and let it all end quickly. Hopefully you wake up somewhere nice, maybe at a beach or something. And maybe, just maybe, your brain is able to trick you one last time into thinking that he’s here, that he thought about you as well, that Yuta Okkotsu didn’t forget about your existence.

Just a single moment and it will be over. Just one last breath in this cursed place.

You allow yourself to close your eyes, the desperate cries for help fading into the background. The pain that holds your body, all the horrible things you’ve seen…You smile to yourself gently while sitting down. It’s finally over. Now you’re finally able to rest.

And so you wait in silence for their sharp teeth, for them to finally slice your head off. But something seems off…You furrow your eyebrows. What has gotten into this thing? Is it full already? No, these monsters never get enough. It has to me something else.

“Hey, are you alright?”

You hold your breath, eyes snapping open in an instant. That familiar voice, that white uniform…You glare straight into the stranger’s face.

But no, that isn’t a stranger.

This is Yuta Okkotsu.

“(y/n), is that really you? What were you doing here? That curse could have killed you!”

His words don’t fully reach your ears, cries of the curse who gets eaten alive by Rika ringing in your ears. This can’t be true. He…He wasn’t even on the continent. How did he get here? And why on earth is he standing right in front of you?

Suddenly thick anger rises up your chest. Anger because he your left without really telling you. Anger because he didn’t write or reply to your messages frequently, anger because Yuta never seemed to fully care about you after the year you’ve spent together, after the secret kiss you’ve shared. And now he’s standing in front of you with that single droplet of sweat running down his face, asking what you are doing here.

“You have some fucking nerve”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

You lift your trembling figure off the ground, pushing him backwards with all the strength you have left only to stumble over your worn-out legs.

“You disappear for a whole damn year, never really care about me and then you ask my what I’m doing here!? Do you want to know what I did? I tried to save these people, tried to justify the countless dead jujutsu sorcerers, tried to free Gojo-sensei! What were you doing all this time, why didn’t you even ca-“

With a swift motion, he gets down and wraps his arms around you, cages you against his body. No, you don’t want to be near him, you need to get away, you…

Can’t help but cry.

“Why did you leave me here without saying anything?”, you mutter desperately, fists banging weakly against his chest.

Fuck, why does it have to feel so comforting, why do you have to realize just how much you missed him and the way he holds you? Why does it have to be so damn hard to stay mad at him when all you need right now is a big comforting hug?

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am for all those things. When I heard what happens here in Shibuya, when no one could tell me that you’re safe…On my flight back here I regretted over and over that I didn’t have the guts to tell you how I feel”, he whispers against your bloody ear.

“Please tell me you’re alright, tell me I wasn’t too late”, he begs.

Gently, he lifts up your face, forces you to get lost in his blue eyes. Oh, how badly you want to push him away, tell him to leave this place and let you die. But instead, you just stare at him, watch how he scans your body, your countless injuries.

“How long have you been fighting here alone?”, he mutters.

“4 hours. Maybe a little longer. I lost count some time ago”, you mumble, tired eyes still set on him.

He looks so different from when you last saw him. How is it even possible to turn from a boy to a man in the matter of one year? His chest seems wider, jawline even sharper, eyes clearer than ever before. But what changed the most is the way he carries himself. The man in front of you isn’t insecure and fearful. No, he seems absolutely aware of his immense powers, killing of that grade 1 curse with ease.

“You look shocked.”

“I definitely am. After all, a ghost is talking to me”, you reply dryly.

What hasn’t change is the fact that his eyes seem to be the mirror of his feelings, instantly filling with sorrow by the sound of your harsh tone.

“I didn’t want to leave you behind. But…I had no other choice, (y/n)! I owed it to myself and Riko-“

“Oh, so now it’s Rika and you, huh?”, you bark.

Enough. You stand up faster than expected, shooting back up only to lose balance and falling back into Yuta’s open arms.

“Hey, slow down. You have to be exhausted.”

“Yes. Yes I am fucking exhausted. Exhausted from that senseless fighting, exhausted from hearing your excuses! What was the real reason you just left me in the dark? Was it because of Rika, because you don’t care about me like that? You should have thought about that before you kissed me the night before you went to different continent-“

“Trust me, I thought about you all the time, I loved you all the time, (y/n)! It was just as hard for me as it was to you. The last thing I wanted was to leave after that night, but I had no other choice. It was my only chance to train properly, to get the best of me. If I could, I would have taken you with me straight away. But I couldn’t. And I’ll probably never forgive myself for leaving you alone in this mess, for almost losing you!”

He grabs your face passionately, makes you forget how to breathe. Is this really Yuta Okkotsu talking to you? Is this really Yuta Okkotsu leaning closer, his lips only inches away from yours.

“I loved you through everything, (y/n). And I hope you did as well.”

“Are you serious?”, you breathe out, staring at him in sheer disbelief.

“You were the only thing on my mind all this time. You and…that I never told you that I love you”, you blurt out.

You aren’t even able to turn away from him. In the matter of seconds, his lips are pressed against yours. Just like the last time you’ve seen each other, just like he did at his dorm a year ago. Sparks fly, your heart shivers in sheer excitement. Oh, you’ll definitely not forget that he just left you, that he didn’t message you on a regular basis.

But at the moment, you just close your eyes and let the sensation of his hands caressing your face while his lips brush over yours so tenderly sink in. Just a few minutes ago, you were kneeling on the ground, ready to let yourself get killed here in Shibuya. And now he’s here. The countless nights you pondered when he’ll come back, how he’ll act, how he’ll look.

When reality is so much better.

“I promise that I’ll never leave you again. I’ll make it up to you”, he mumbles against your parted lips.

“I sure hope so.”

Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0@ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi@weebotaku21@chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez@belovedvamp@wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Stardew valley bachelors (and krobus and the wizard) witnessing the farmer chug multiple jars of mayonnaise. Just really slinging it back.

Okay ngl I never did this till right now and I got everybody's reactions so this is based on the responses my farmer got after doing this

Spoilers: they've all known my farmer for about 7 years so it's nothing too shocking to them,,,but it's still highly questionable lmao

.....

Shane

"Umm..."

For years, him and Pam were beer addicts...and now comes along you, the new farmer who's a very...different kind of addict.

An addict to mayonnaise, that is.

For years, people have been judging him for his habit, so it seems fair that he should be allowed to judge you 100% for having the weirdest fucking habit in the valley.

He started opening up to you (in his 2 heart event) and you're just sitting next to him, drinking mayonnaise to wash out the beer he offered you.

Only after you two get closer does he decide "well shit, they're weird..but they're also one of the few who care about me,,,"

And he eventually lets go of it altogether.

But he'll still tease you about your mayo addiction from time to time.

"What're you gonna put in the potluck this year? Gold star mayo? Or did you already eat it on the way here?"

"Oh shut up."

"Heh heh."

Sam

"Gross!"

Considering it's one of his hated gifts, this shouldn't come as a surprise to you.

But the way you've absolutely freaked him out by drinking it in front of him (and subsequently making him miss his kickflip) was hilarious.

"That's what you get for skating on other people's property." You shook your head, smirking as you bring out another jar. "You think Jodi needs some for later? Or should I just drink it in front of her, too?"

"NO! Stop. Please don't do that." Sam hisses. "One, she might uninvite you from future family dinners. And two, she'll think it's one of those weird trends and blame me for it!"

"A trend..hm? Doesn't sound like a bad idea. This town could use one more tradition." You laugh, consuming the jar and not missing the look of horror on his face.

"A-And I thought Abigail eating rocks was nuts...you two would be great friends.."

Harvey

"Umm..."

While he's well aware of the many health benefits to mayonnaise, he wonders if you know that they're best as a condiment....not a beverage you can just sling back.

"But you told me to lay off the Joja Colas, doctor," you pointed out to him. "You're telling me those are a healthier alternative to this?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying at all." He huffs. "It's just..erm..I've never met someone who enjoyed mayonnaise by itself..it sounds-"

"Disgusting?"

"N-No! I didn't mean it like-"

"I'm kidding, Harvey." You laugh a little, amused by his nervousness. "You know any side effects to drinking large quantities of mayo?"

"..none in particular, but that doesn't mean you should-"

"Then if I start feeling anything different, I'll let you know. Thank you." With a wink, you pull out some dinosaur mayo and drink it on your way out of the clinic...with poor Harvey wondering wtf that was.

Regular mayo was fine, but that green icky-looking mayo...had him gravely concerned over what you were doing to your body.

Elliot

"Why?!"

You thought you were being subtle, drinking a little bit of mayo while hanging out at his beachside cabin.

But nope.

You've absolutely horrified this man. Traumatized, even.

It's almost as bad as the time you left a super cucumber on his doorstep, and the next day he sent you a letter demanding to know who made you play this "cruel prank" on him.

In reality, you thought it'd be a nice gift and he'd make something poetic out of a rare sea creature you fished up.

Apparently not and that's when you quickly learned it's a hated one.

"Oh don't be so dramatic," you shake your head. "It's easier to carry than some full course meal."

"But you could have any other food....why that?" Elliot asks, now genuinely curious about what goes on in your mind to think mayo is a suitable choice in food.

You have no explanation though other than "it's most convenient for me and I like the taste".

So he leaves it alone but....maybe it's better not to drink it around him without warning (or drink it when he's buzzed and he may not remember you doing that).

Sebastian

"Umm..."

And here he was, on Ginger Island, hoping to get a brief vacation away from the valley and all its weirdness.

Yet you came along to visit and check on your beach farmhouse--bringing tons of mayo jars with you.

You got thirsty while talking to Seb in the hot sun, and instinctively began chugging the first thing you opened out of your bag.

You don't even realize what you've done until he gives you the strangest look ever.

"Have you always liked drinking mayo...like that?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Um..not since moving into the valley and learning how to make it." You shrugged, smiling sheepishly as you brought out another jar. This time a green color.

"What's that one?"

"Oh! Dinosaur mayo. It's a lot thicker and kinda tastes like a kale drink-"

"I'm sorry, there's dinosaurs in the mines?"

Alex

"Umm..."

"What?" You shoot him a defensive look, cradling the half-empty jar like it's your baby. "You've eaten every raw egg I give you, and I never judge."

"But..that's a little different, isn't it?" He chuckles nervously. "Eggs are great for protein! Drinking straight mayo is...erm....are there any benefits..?"

"It's easy to make with all the eggs in my coop, and um..it keeps my energy up so I don't pass out."

It's an awkward explanation, considering you simply drink mayonnaise for the hell of it and didn't think too much about the "health benefits".

But Alex completely agrees with you, not making any further comments on it in the future.

Although how he's eaten dozen of raw eggs without getting some kind of salmonella poisoning is beyond both him and you.

Perhaps you're both a little bit strange, but he eventually came to accept that about himself.

Wizard

"Umm..."

From the moment you met him and obtained forest magic, Rasmodius knew there was something peculiar about you.

From gleefully retrieving ectoplasm and prismatic jelly for his studies to assisting him in getting the dark talisman back from his ex-wife's home, he's come to trust you as a potential apprentice.

So to drink mayonnaise while looking through his catalogue of expensive magical architecture had him....a bit confused.

"What?" You look at the man standing by the bubbling green pot, his eyebrow raised in question. "C'mon, surely this can't be the strangest thing you've seen."

"No, whatever keeps your spirit and energy nourished is fine and all. But..mayonnaise seems most unconventional. That's all I'm saying. Now I must focus.."

And that's all he says about the matter, not really caring too much.

You're grateful he didn't overreact.

Krobus

"........"

"You're not gonna say anything?"

"About what?"

"About..y'know..me drinking mayonnaise?"

"Why would I? You gift me void mayonnaise. I eat it and use it as a moisturizer all the time!"

Finally, somebody who finds your habit relatively normal---but the only downside is that somebody isn't human.

Makes you often question if you're really human yourself.

It never bothers Krobus whenever you need to sling back a jar of mayonnaise and pull out another one when you return from the mutant bug lair or hike through Cindersap Forest to reach the sewers.

He thinks it's just a normal thing humans do, but when you mention how it's very much not normal in your "culture"..he thinks THEY are weird for not accepting your tastes.

Welp, at least he supports your weird yet harmless habit.

You did try void mayo once and nearly keeled over, so you stick to regular/duck/dino mayo from thereon.

[jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue]

Halloween - BTS OT7 CEO au extra

Welcome to something a little different, just to keep you going until the next update 💜

Prev / Next

Yoongi:

Jungkook:

Hoseok:

Jimin:

Seokjin:

Namjoon :

——————————————————————————

Every jaw in the room dropped as the tv screen went blank. The lights in the house following suit as they cut out with an electric buzz in the air.

“Someone call Kitten now!” Yoongi yells in the darkness.

You had texted the group to say you were running late, but you were on your way to dinner. The others had worn their costumes, preparing the meal together when Taehyung had called them all into the living room.

“It’s a Halloween prank,” Namjoon tries to rationalise, but his breathing is heavy. “The news channels are obviously playing a prank.”

“It didn’t look like a prank Hyung,” Jimin runs his fingers through his hair, they’re all standing scared still. “And even if it was the news channel didn’t cut our power.”

“Fine then it’s a disease or a new virus, it is NOT zombies.”

“Sunshine!” You finally picked up Hobi’s call, the faint light from his phone lighting the side of his face. The room is so quiet they can all hear your screams. “Sunshine?”

“Hobi help!” The screams are followed by low groaning in the background of the call, the sounds of flesh being ripped through with decaying teeth.

“Kitten!” Yoongi yells, tripping over furniture to get to Hobi who had been petrified into a catatonic state.

And then, silence. There isn’t a single sound, and they all wait with baited breath. They feel the thud of all their hearts hitting the floor when a low moan comes through the line, your voice, there’s no mistaking it but it’s warped, inhuman.

“Bunny?” Jungkook whispers, his eyes watering as his heart picks up in pace.

The line cuts and they’re all left to the sound of their breathing.

“This isn’t happening,” Jimin almost tears his hair out by its roots. “CALL HER BACK!”

“We have to go get her,” Jin is shaking where he stands, his feet cemented to the ground but he knows he has to move. Whatever was going on he knew one thing, you were in danger.

“Everyone turn on your phones flash-“

BAAANNGG

Their souls jump out of their skins as a body slams into the living room window, their eyes going wide with horror as they take in the face in the dark. They can make out no discernible features but they can see the way his face presses against the glass. The silence that follows is deafening, not a breath, not a beat, until they see a tongue lick the surface of the window as if tasting them through it.

“What the actual fuck,” Yoongi breathes, terrified to speak a decibel louder.

The flood lights turn on outside, detecting movement although a little late but it reveals the body’s features and their eyes nearly fall out of their sockets. His entire body is decaying, his eyes set on them, unblinking, his clothes torn to reveal flesh and flies leaving no question what this creature was. But worse, behind him, what started out as a blur that drew closer, a hoard moving towards their home.

“We need to move,” Namjoon’s brain starts kicking into gear, survival mode fighting with instinct to shut down and freeze.

“And go where, we’re sitting ducks,” Jimin panics.

They all turn to the sound of another bang, closer, louder but they all knew what it was… the front door had been breached, they were in the house.

The low moan of their intruder echoes through the dark hallway.

“We need something to fight,” Jungkook whispers, his eyes darting around in the dark, their backs to the repeated thuds on the window from their other guests.

“Knives?” Jimin suggests.

“The kitchens too far,” Taehyung mumbles.

The lights of the hallway start flickering, the living room lights flickering just a second after, the pattern repeats making the men look around desperately for something to be armed with, but nothing usable is in sight.

“We can’t stand here, we have to run,” Jimin starts to hyperventilate.

“He’s right,” Yoongi agrees, tugging the still shell shocked Hoseok to snap out of it.

Jin’s whole body is vibrating with how hard he’s shaking, he knows whatever is in the house can sense them, the groans getting louder and the hoard behind the window getting more vocal with the frustration of a barrier between them and their next meal. He doesn’t hear what words are being said in the room, his hearts thumping in his ears, the blood draining out of him. He feels someone grab his hand, the maknae’s mouth moves in front of him but he can’t make out the words.

He’s being pulled into the hallway, the scene moving almost in slow motion as his brain fails to comprehend the scene but one thing wakes him up. They’re moving closer to the sound, they were running straight into danger.

It was too late, their bodies collided in the hallway, their attempts of escape stopped before they could even begin. A familiar figure stands before them, a silhouette they could make out even if they were blind.

“Baby-“

The lights flicker and the fills with their screams at the horror of their zombified girlfriend before them. They all scream except from one who covers his mouth and his laughter.

—————————————————————————

The very next day

Office romance:

Hobi : Did anyone get any sleep last night? 😭

Jin : every time I closed my eyes all I could see were the zombies

Yoongi : I slept through this mornings meeting does that count?

Jimin : I say we all go home and let Taehyung do all the work today 😒

Namjoon : I still can’t get my head around how they pulled it off

Yoongi : the maknaes obviously have had a bad influence on kitten

Jungkook : don’t involve me and Jimin in this

Jimin : Jimin Hyung* 🤨 I need another copy of this contract I drooled all over it

Jin : the two culprits are being awfully quiet

Namjoon : how long did you two plan yesterdays events?

Taehyung : for a while, the details were all flower, she really ran away with it

Jimin : I have to say the fake news announcement on the tv was a nice touch

Jungkook : I can’t believe we fell for it 😤

Namjoon : the lights went out, irrational fear was bound to takeover

Y/n : HEY! We were a team Kim Taehyung, we’re both to blame

Jungkook : well look who decided to join the conversation

Yoongi : look, she lives

Jin : dangerous girl

Y/n : if it makes you feel any better, I feel really really bad… but it was worth it 😇

Hobi : Sunshine you’re sleeping next to me until the nightmares stop 😤

Yoongi : you owe him that much Kitten, he fainted

Jin : as if you weren’t a second away from passing out too Yoongi, I know I was

Y/n : sorry Hobi 🥺 I am really sorry but I really don’t regret it 😈

Jungkook : Noona’s sadistic side is coming out

Hobi : we’ll see how long for 😒 wait till we get home sunshine, you’ve got a lot to pay for

Y/n : it was Tae’s idea too!

Yoongi : the brat didn’t dress up like our worst nightmare kitten

Namjoon : I really hope it was worth it baby girl, Hoseok’s got a dark look on his face 👀

Y/n : ☹️☹️☹️

Taehyung : you have to admit, flower’s acting was almost as good as mine 😏

Jungkook : and she made a terrifying but somehow sexy zombie

Jin : Jungkook no 🙅🏽‍♂️

Y/n : 😳

Jimin : Jungkook yes 😈

———————————————————————————-

Taehyung : (the day of Halloween)

[hunter-burton]

Recently, I’ve developed the headcannon that Alex owns a little sketchbook! Absolutely consumed by this idea, I made a physical “replica” of what I think it would look like- including some of the sketches inside! When making these pages in particular, I actually acted out a specific scenario to help myself figure out what to draw. This fic is that scenario a bit more fleshed out. Enjoy :)

Opening Up

It sucked coming home so late, especially with all that rain. After, yet, another dragging day of witnessing absolute horrors, coming home, Alex practically dropped their body into the door. Upon finally stepping into their house, they clicked the door behind themselves, muffling the sobbing clouds

Their weird ass cat, Clyde, sat at the small, round, dining table. Its yellow eyes blinked, “How was work?”

“Exhausting.” After closing and setting down their umbrella, Alex let out a sigh, lifting their uniform’s heavy coat off their hunched body and hung it on the thin coat hanger. “Y’know, the usual. Just gotta… sit down… maybe make a cup of tea.”

“Want me to make bubble water on the…” the creature traced circles in the air, “hot thing?”

“Stove? Yeah, actually. I’d really appreciate it..” Alex paused, brows furrowed, “Wait- you know how to use that thing?”

It nodded, “You turn on the knobs and, then the, sttt..circle thing.. tops turn red. I’ve seen you do it before.”

“Hm, yeah. That sounds about right.” They eased their boots off by the door, then made their way to the kitchen cabinets, “Have at it. I’ll get you a pot.”

As Alex reached for and opened the cabinet doors, Clyde tilted its head, “What’s in the rest of those little doors?”

“Oh, the cabinets?” Alex handed Clyde a small, metal pot, which it, then, took to the sink and began to fill with water. “Just general kitchen stuff. Pots, pans, spices…” they spoke over the rain hitting the road and the pot’s wet, metal hum, “Not the tea though. That’s kinda more where you’re at- by the sink.”

Once the pot was filled, it stopped the water, passed the pot back to Alex and then began to pull open all the little doors, “What does the tea look like?”

“They should be in little boxes. One should have a bear on it?”

Clyde squinted into one of the drawers, “keeyy… leee… sty.. all?”

Alex raised a brow, “Does the word start with a ‘C’” they traced the letter in the air.

“Yes.”

“‘Celestial!’ That’s them.”

“Alright.” Clyde sifted through the boxes “Which one you want? Green? Sleep?… Gine grr?”

“Ginger? Ginger sounds nice.”

Clyde echoed Alex’s voice, “Ginger it is.”

“Thanks!”

Clyde huffed, “Don’t mention it.” The box rustled as it pulled out a tea packet. To the side of the boxes, it spots a brown oddity in the corner, adorned with colorful stickers. It pulls it out, along with the tea, “Hey, what’s this?”

Lights sparked on in Alex’s eyes, “Oh! That’s my sketch book!” They snatched the thing from its claws and began to flip through the pages, “Man! It’s been forever since I’ve opened this thing… I used to doodle in it all the time before this… fuck-ass job.”

Clyde scrunched up its face, “Doodle?”

“Yeah! Here, I’ll show you- hold on, le’me get a pencil!” Alex set the sketchbook on the dining table and raced to their bedroom and, soon, returned with a yellow pointy thing and a tiny metal object with holes. Over the trash can, they stuck the yellow stick into one of the holes, shedding off what appeared to be wood, then returned to the dining table to flip the sketchbook to a blank sheet. With the dark tip, Alex began to write symbols onto the page, narrating every movement, “I’ll start with a circle… then some rectangles… dot- dot… maybe some squiggles for the hair- then a neck…” with every soft scratch the tip made on the page, a line appeared. It was like watching magic. One moment, there was a blank page, then, the next moment, “Line, line, box box…” Alex drew an arrow and wrote

Me

“…And that’s me!”

Clyde sat there for a moment with its jaw ajar, “gimme that thing.” It held out its claw, then shifted its eyes, remembering the magic word “..please.”

“Pencil.” With a wide smile, Alex dropped the pencil into those claws, then twirled their hand, “give it a whirl!”

Clyde clumsily situated the magic stick into its four fingers, then began to scratch the page with the tip. Lines turned into shapes and shapes turned into little units of invigoration. First, there was the face, then the horns, the uniform stripes down its sleeves, then the large zipper in the center of its chest. Once blank, this section of the page was now Clyde’s closest replica of its reflection. To top off the illustration, it, while admittedly crude, attempted to copy Alex’s arrow and Me.

Arms crossed, Alex sipped on their ginger tea and nodded, “Nice! That’s actually pretty good for your first time!”

It felt as if some tingling force was tugging on the corners of Clyde’s mouth and from the inside of it’s chest. For some reason, though, it didn’t mind- it couldn’t mind. Dismissing the sensation, however, it looked up to its next subject, sitting across from it, and, once again, scratched at the page, lines flowing more than they did before, now that the pencil was solid in its claws. Once the image manifested, Clyde, again, copied the arrow, pointing to the portrait of Alex, writing:

YOU

Seeing that the page was now full, it dropped the pencil.

“Yeah!” Alex took the pencil and wrote the word by Clyde’s drawing of them.

Clyde shifted its eyes to the previous page and up to the writing stuck up in the corner. It pointed to this mysterious text, “What does this, in the corner, mean?”

“That’s the date,” Alex passed the pencil back to Clyde, “I always jot it down when I finish my drawings so I can look back and know when I drew it.”

“Hm.” Clyde twirled the pencil back into its four fingers, “What’s today?”

“Uhm…” their voice trailed off as they stood up and made their way to their calendar, “1988…January…”

In the corner of the page, Clyde scratched down the year and its closest approximation of the spelling for what it heard:

JANeeuARY

“Today’s a Tuesday… the twelfth!”

TWelth

The tip skating across the grainy texture of the page was an addictive vibration. Clyde flipped the page, then paused, eyes darting around the room for a new subject to draw, eventually landing on the front door. It scribbled down two rectangles, one for the door, then one for the door’s window, through which rain could be seen pouring down from the sky, then, finally, a circle representing the door’s handle. Besides the sketch, it drew an arrow, labeling the sketch:

DOR

“A door?”

“Well,” Clyde crunched its face, “what else am I supposed to draw?”

“Hm,” Alex put their chin on top of their hand, “What’s your absolute favorite thing in the world?”

After a moment, Clyde lit up and began to scratch at the page once more, first outlining several shaky curves, then scribbling in the one at top, and, finally, adding two triangles and a jagged mouth for a face, making a Jack-o-Lantern and, with an arrow, labeling it:

FAVORit thing

“Oh nice!” Alex beamed, “Yeah, I like Halloween too.”

Clyde dropped the pencil and slid it to them, now setting it’s chin on its hand, “What ‘bout you?”

“Oh- shoot…” Alex’s spine pulled them straight soon before they held their chin, “I need to think about this one- hold on…” their voice trailed off until, “Ah! Got it!” They snatched the pencil, twirled the book to face them, and sketched away. With five fingers, as opposed to four, their lines were, clearly, a lot more cohesive, dancing together to suggest depth in what appeared to be a ghost popping out out a TV screen, exclaiming,

BOO!

Alex turned the sketch book back to Clyde, who read the note they left besides the illustration:

I really like horror movies!

“Horror movies, huh?” Clyde looked back up from the page to Alex, “Like that Critters thing you showed me last week?”

“Yeah.” Alex's eyes sparkled, “Oh- and especially- like- the really bad ones. I heard “Creepazoids” is supposed to be awful- I bought it yesterday.”

Clyde scoffed, “You humans are weird.”

Alex smiled, “Wanna watch it?”

There was a moment where the sound of rain hitting the roof filled the room.

A smile. That’s what that tingling tug was, “Sure.” Clyde smiled.

[gabessquishytum]

Hob in his hedonist morally gray years is a highwayman. He robs fancy carriages and picks pockets and generally fucks around, living for sex and a good fight. One day he comes across a fancy looking carriage and thinks “yep that’s an easy mark. The owner looks like a stiff wind would knock him over.”

So Hob stops the carriage, beats up the driver and opens the door. Inside, the pale, delicate lord stares at him from the dark. He has his curtains drawn.

“Step out of the carriage, sweetheart,” Hob says. He sort of wants to pat him down. Maybe he will. “I’ll be taking that ruby and anything else you’ve got.”

The lord just gives him a little arch look. “Your dreams are full of violence and hedonism,” he says. “Have you no respect for the laws of your society?”

“None,” Hob answers cheerily and crowds into the carriage. He sits on the bench next to him and taps his knife against that sharp, high collar. “Now… you aren’t going to give me trouble, are you?”

The lord isn’t as frightened as Hob expected. That should have been his first sign.

“You seem strong and healthy. Haven’t you found honest work?” The lord makes no effort to flinch back from the knife and Hob digs it against his pale, fine skin.

“Why, when I can steal what I need?”

The lord doesn’t give off much heat, Hob notices, now that he’s close. His eyes in the dark glint. Idly, Hob thinks of a snake. Something cold blooded.

“You’ll do,” the lord muses.

Hob feels the hair on the back of his neck rise. “I’m getting impatient. Hand over that ruby or I’ll have to get rough.” He presses the knife deep enough to pierce skin.

Only it doesn’t. It’s like he’s pressing against marble, not flesh.

Hob jerks back. A hand snatches out, catching his wrist in a vise-like grip, twisting the knife out of his fingers. The lord—flows over him and suddenly Hob is on his back, and there are teeth at his throat.

“What—!” He gasps.

The door of the carriage opens. It’s the guard, who Hob thought he had dispatched, grinning down at him, blood matting one side of his blond hair.

“What do you think, Lord Morpheus?” He asks his lord, who has settled on Hob’s thighs, claws digging into his wrists. “Is he suitable?”

“Yes. No one will question the disappearance of a highwayman,” Morpheus says through a mouth with too many teeth in his pretty red mouth. Hob stares in horror. “And I rather like the idea of taming him.”

Hob struggles against his hold, blood racing through his body.

“What are you,” he gasps. “I didn’t mean—”

“You meant to rob me and kill me. What else might you have done to me?” A too-long tong your lavs eagerly up his neck, curling behind his ear. “Tell me, that I may do it to you.”

“Only scare you,” Hob promises.

“Liar.” Morpheus smiles against his pulse.

His guard closes the door and suddenly the carriage is moving again. The creature purrs, scenting up his cheek. “I never want to take someone good,” Morpheus says. “You are no good man. Yet you are strong. You crave violence. You crave sex. You’ll be able to hold on longer than the others.”

“What are you going to do to me?”

“Nothing you won’t beg me for. You’ve been aroused since I pinned you.”

Oh god. He’d noticed. Desperate, Hob attempts to slam his head into the lord’s. But the lord dodges.

He catches Hob by the scruff of his neck like a misbehaving kitten and smirks down at him. “Don’t fret. I prefer not to kill you. I’d rather like to keep you. It’s been so long since I’ve been able to keep someone. If you’re good, I’ll keep you for centuries, but I’ll have to teach you goodness. I can tell it doesn’t come naturally to you. Poor thing, no one’s ever taught you how to behave, but you’ll take to obedience beautifully, I know it.”

His eyes are mesmerizing. It’s hard to breathe with him so close and Hob … has never so afraid in his life. Nor so hard in his pants. “Are you a vampire? A demon? Are you dragging me to hell for my sins?”

Lord Morpheus pets his hair as if he truly was a stray in need of soothing. “Nothing so simple, Robert Gadling.”

I'm literally obsessed with this!!!!! I've said it before but like. When you guys drop lil snippets and mini fics into my inbox I feel really honoured. You guys have so much talent and I am so grateful that I get to benefit from it <3

Anyway: highwayman hob is. Genius. I love him already. I can imagine him riding around the country and just being an absolute bastard, stealing cash and fancy jewelry and occasionally having his wicked way when his victims seem willing. He absolutely loves his life, but oh dear, karma is coming for him...

Imagine Hob pinned back against the velvet interior of the carriage by Morpheus’s gaze and one hand alone. And Hob is reduced to whimpering like one of his previous victims. The beautiful Lord is caressing and fondling him through his clothes, squeezing his half-hard cock (how is he getting hard?!). All the while the driver watches and grins.

Hob has a horrible feeling that he's going to do exactly as this strange man (being?) tells him. When Lord Morpheus tells him that he's going to be a beautiful, obedient little nightmare, Hob finds himself nodding. Poor thing, he can't help himself.

And when his Lord tells him to kiss that wonderful ruby, the one he was so keen to steal... Hob does exactly that.

Perhaps sometimes Dream needs a little extra human touch for his dreams and nightmares. Perhaps he's found exactly what he was looking for...

[kangshxrtie]

ch. 29 ⤍ horror games

kazuha sat at her desk, adjusting the settings of her horror game. she glanced at her phone just as it buzzed, seeing your name pop up on the screen.

"i'm streaming, and you're on speaker," kazuha said, putting the phone on speaker as she answered the call.

"yeah, i know. i'm watching it. i told you to wait for me," you replied.

kazuha chuckled, "i haven't started yet."

you rolled your eyes playfully, "i literally just watched you skip the tutorial; you could've done the tutorial while i was on my way."

kazuha blinked in surprise. "wait, are you driving while watching my stream?"

"no... chaewon's driving me," you explained.

kazuha's confusion deepened. "when did you even meet up with her?"

"she was hanging out with yujin, so i told her to take me with her when she left," you clarified casually.

kazuha raised her eyebrows. she hadn't even noticed chaewon left the house. "okay, okay, i'm waiting," she muttered.

"hands off your keyboard and mouse!" you warned, causing kazuha to raise her hands in the air for the stream to see, a playful pout forming on her lips.

"good," you said, satisfied. "stay like that until i get there."

"hurry up, then, i'm getting impatient," kazuha said, her pout turning into a soft whine.

"okay, i'm two minutes away. i'll be there soon," you reassured her.

"see you soon."

the moment you burst into her room, you spotted kazuha still sitting at the starting screen, her hands away from her keyboard. you immediately went to sit down in the chair she'd set up for you.

"zuha! you better still be in the same spot," you exclaimed, scanning to make sure she hadn't moved. "okay, you can start now."

you pulled out the snacks you'd brought for the little nightmares playthrough. kazuha turned to you, you held out a chip for her to munch on while she focused on the game, repeating the gesture as she played.

suddenly, kazuha tensed up, her eyes widening in panic as something lurked on the screen.

"no, wait, i'm sorry. y/n, it's coming for me!" kazuha's voice rose as she called out, "help, help, help, help, plEASE, Y/N, HELP ME!"

you couldn't help but laugh along, amused by her panic. "it's fine. it can't see me," kazuha tried to tell herself as she slowly moved across the screen. both of you fell silent as if the creature in the game could hear your voices. kazuha's character slowly, passed by the monster, making it to safety. finally, she exhaled before turning to you and raising her eyebrows at you.

"no don't look at me like that," you said shaking your head.

"let's go! next part, you got this!" kazuha cheered, a determined glint in her eyes as she pulled your chair closer to hers so you could reach the keyboard and mouse.

"you should play now," she said, flashing a sweet, encouraging smile in your direction.

"no, thank you," you quickly declined, shaking your head.

kazuha tilted her head, curious. "then why did you want to be here when i played? you could've just watched the stream."

"i'm here for moral support," you stated matter-of-factly.

"come on, just one," she urged, her tone playful but persistent.

you looked over at the chat who were now spamming for you to take over. reluctantly, and with a heavy sigh, you gave in. "fine," you muttered, switching places with kazuha.

you unpaused the game and cautiously moved through the eerie setting. the atmosphere was thick, each step echoing in the silence. "yep, that way is definitely the way to go... so i will not be going that way," you said, steering away from the ominous dark room ahead.

kazuha chuckled beside you. "y/n, the game isn't going to progress if you don't go that way."

"that's the whole point," you retorted, keeping a safe distance from potential jumpscares.

suddenly, the monster in the game started chasing you—and you jumped in your seat as your character continued running. "holy fuck, kazuha! why the fuck did i even agree to do this?! i hate horror games!"

kazuha couldn't stop laughing as you frantically tried to escape the monster chasing your character on screen.

you shot her a glare, "i hate you for making me play this," you muttered.

"you gotta keep going, she might come back," kazuha told you.

user1 y/n + horror games = best content

user2 kekw

you maneuvered your character cautiously through the dimly lit corridor, the sound of your footsteps echoing ominously in the distance. every few seconds, you'd glance over at kazuha, who was now munching on the snacks and quietly observing, completely unfazed by the game now.

"i don't like how unbothered you are right now" you whispered.

"because i'm not the one playing," kazuha replied with a grin, "this is all you right now."

"thank you so much for the support" you muttered sarcastically, inching your way toward the next objective.

just when you thought you were safe, another jumpscare flashed across the screen—a monstrous face appearing suddenly from the shadows. you let out a loud scream, nearly launching out of your seat as the creature grabbed your character.

kazuha burst into laughter again, unable to contain herself. "y/n, our kill count!"

"i hate it here!" you groaned, covering your face with your hands.

user3 rip y/n ig

user4 this is the content we signed up for

"okay, that's enough," you said after finally managing to get your character to a safe zone. "i'm not doing this anymore. zuha, take over."

kazuha smirked, leaning closer. "you sure? you were doing so well."

"i've been through enough emotional trauma," you shot back, quickly standing up and practically shoving her out of your seat.

kazuha switched places with you, and as you settled back into your seat, you couldn't help but smile as you watched kazuha from the sidelines, you had to stop yourself from smiling at how hot she looked when she was focused on the game.

"see? it's not so bad once you get used to it," kazuha said, shooting you a quick glance as she expertly passed through another section.

"yeah, whatever you say," you mumbled, barely even paying attention anymore. you had better things to look at.

as kazuha continued, you noticed her start to tense up again, her fingers hovering over the keyboard in anticipation. the silence was thick, broken only by the eerie music in the game. suddenly, out of nowhere, the creature jumped back into the frame, grabbing kazuha's character this time.

kazuha screamed, her eyes widening as she frantically tried to escape. now it was your turn to laugh, watching her panic as you gave her the same energy she had given you earlier. "honestly deserved."

kazuha shot you a glare between her panicked attempts to free herself. "y/n, stop laughing and HELP ME!"

"i can't even help you if i wanted to," you continued laughing as kazuha panicked. kazuha barely managed to escape the monster's clutches, letting out a sigh of relief once she was in the clear.

"this seems like a great place to end," kazuha muttered, leaning back in her chair.

"that's fair." you agreed ready to wrap the stream up.

you let kazuha do her outro, and she gave you a shoutout before finally ending the stream with a goodbye.

"can i finally get a kiss now?" she asked as soon as she turned off her camera.

you smirked as you leaned back in your chair, "do you really wanna kiss me that bad."

kazuha pouted, rolling her chair closer to yours. "i've been waiting so patiently," she said, her voice soft and sweet as she tilted her head toward you.

"well, i guess so," you shrugged, pretending to be deep in thought. "since you want it so bad."

you leaned in and gave her a soft kiss, feeling her smile against your lips. when you pulled back, kazuha sighed dramatically, placing a hand over her heart.

"finally," she whispered, still grinning. "that was worth the wait."

you laughed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "next time just pull me aside; i won't refuse."

kazuha raised her eyebrows with a playful glint in her eyes. "oh? i'll remember that, then."

"not too much, though," you told her, "but seriously, let's get some real food. i'm so hungry."

"i'm paying this time," she insisted.

you shrugged, "i'm not complaining."

ALL CHAPTERS !!! | NEXT CH !!!

[wolveria]

The Raven’s Hymn - Ch 24

Pairing: SCP-049 x Reader

Series Warnings (18+ only): Eventual smut, dubcon, slow burn, violence, horror, death, monsters, human experiments, dark with a happy ending

Chapter Summary: “What did you do with 049?”

AO3

Heaviness weighed you down as you drifted upwards into consciousness. You should be clawing your way up to the light, fighting to stay alive, but all was calm, soothing.

Warm.

A distant voice lulled you back to sleep, the familiar, metallic notes of 049’s words allowing you to fall back under without fear.

The next moment, you were blinking your eyes open, head aching and your limbs sluggish to respond. Instead of spotting a dark figure, the colors around you were sterile white and cold grey. You were back in the medical ward, and 049 was nowhere to be found.

Your heart jolted; you attempted to sit up, but your body was uncooperative, and you fell back against your stiff, hospital pillow. There was movement around you, difficult to focus on until your eyes could adjust, and the fog cleared from your mind.

Two medical technicians checked your vitals on the machines while a doctor examined your eyes with a light. The damage done to you by the guards must not have been as bad as you thought, only your head continued to pain you. The crack as your head had slammed into the wall wasn’t tracking with how you were feeling now. Namely, that you weren’t in a coma.

“Where’s… Leahy,” you croaked between cracked lips. “I must… talk to him.”

The Site Director might be a monster, but you needed him to understand this wasn’t 049’s fault. Whatever had happened to the guards—you could recall only grisly bits and pieces—the SCP had done it to protect you. You understood that, now that you weren’t bleeding out on the cell floor.

The doctor didn’t answer, neither did the technicians, and you didn’t push. You’d learned firsthand what Foundation doctors were capable of.

As it turned out, there was no need to insist on speaking to the Site Director. You’d been left alone for barely a minute before he came striding into the room, Dr. Puli close at his heels.

You sat up as best you could, equal parts dread and hope.

“Is 049 okay?” you croaked. “What happened to him?”

Leahy stopped near the foot of your hospital bed, narrowing his eyes, mouth twisted into a frown.

“You have the nerve to ask after its welfare, after what that creature did? I’m assuming you remember the five homicides it committed, all because of you.”

You seethed through your teeth, indignation surging like a tide of fire inside you.

“Those guards violated protocol! They came into his containment cell, drunk and looking for someone to abuse.”

“An SCP can’t be abused,” Leahy said quietly, his tone more threatening than if he had yelled. “No more than kicking a rock is abuse.”

You glanced at Dr. Puli, unable to believe he would stand there and let the Site Director say such things. But he did. You were the only one willing to advocate on behalf of 049.

“You wanted me in that cell to keep 049 cooperative,” you growled, “and then you don’t give a shit when security almost kills him for no goddamn reason?!”

“Keep your fucking voice down.”

Leahy said it in that same low, threatening tone, and you actually closed your mouth. You couldn’t remember him swearing at you before. He must actually be pissed off this time, and you realized, it wasn’t at you.

He hadn’t known. The guards coming to 049’s cell drunk, apparently a repeated visit, and the Site Director hadn’t known.

How could he not know what’s going on in his own damn facility?

“Regardless of the protocols they broke, they already paid with their lives,” Leahy continued, his tone not as dangerous, but still not comforting. “The O5 Council are discussing plans to place SCP-049 in permanent containment.”

You jerked. The O5 Council knew? You could hardly believe it, but that sounded like something they would do: Trap 049 in a concrete, lead-lined cell, sent down a borehole where he would be kept until the sun burnt out, and maybe even beyond then if the planet remained intact.

“Don’t look so shocked,” Leahy said, a faint smirk tugging at his mouth. “This is unknown behavior from 049, and the Council doesn’t like when SCPs act in ways outside of established norms and patterns.”

And just like a cloud passing over the sun, his expression went back to an unpleasant scowl.

“What the hell did you do to it.”

“Excuse me?”

Leahy took a step closer, and you shrank against the gurney. Dr. Puli shifted but otherwise didn’t move, glaring at the Site Director’s back.

“Did that fractured skull of yours give you brain damage? It killed for you.”

The news that you had a fractured skull didn’t stop you from responding just as aggressively.

“He was protecting me!”

“And why is that?”

You couldn’t provide an answer, your tongue glued to your mouth. When Leahy leaned closer, you attempted to disappear into the sheets.

“You think your life is miserable now?” he said so low that the other doctor couldn’t hear. “Pray the Council doesn’t tie your fate to that thing’s.”

The Site Director didn’t break eye contact as he pulled away, and you could only breathe when he turned and exited the room. As soon as he did, all of the oxygen came back, your limbs shaky with the leftover adrenaline soaking through your muscles.

Dr. Puli gave an apologetic smile as he approached the side of your gurney. He stood a safe distance away, more reserved than you remembered him being before. There were bags under his eyes, dark circles to compliment them.

“How are you feeling?”

You wanted to scoff, but instead, you breathed out a defeated huff of air.

“How do you think?”

“Physically, I mean.”

You frowned.

“All right, I suppose. Head hurts a little.”

At your answer, curiosity replaced some of the tiredness in his voice.

“It’s fascinating, actually. SCP-049 treated you with some kind of concoction from its bag that even we can’t determine. All we know is it should have killed you, and instead, you were no longer bleeding intracranially. Not only that, but you were also well on the way to recovery by the time the medical team arrived.”

You remembered 049 carrying you to his autopsy table. You also recalled your reaction beforehand, flinching and begging for him not to hurt you, though you were fairly sure you’d only said it in your head. The fear saturated your memory, and it was hard to separate your fear of the guards from your fear of 049’s ferocity. You hadn’t known he was capable of moving so quickly, tearing a person limb from limb. Leahy might not be bluffing about the O5 Council assessing 049 in a new light.

But he hadn’t hurt you. He saved you. He was the only one willing to do so, and even if he had the ability to end your life in a mere second, your fear of his violence faded. He was capable of great bloodshed, but he was also capable of saving a life. And hadn’t that always been true of him, in a way.

“What did you do with 049?” you whispered, voice ragged.

“Your attachment to the SCP, especially to this extent, is… concerning.” Dr. Puli frowned. He seemed so much older than when you last saw him, as if he’d aged years in days. “You would be seen for advanced psychological counseling along with transfer to another research sector, if you were still active personnel.”

“Well, I’m not. So, what do you suggest?”

“To be careful.”

You blinked and looked up at him.

“To keep sane using whatever means available,” he continued. “And to curb your affections where the cameras can see you.”

You studied his face, searching for a hint that he was joking. But Dr. Puli had always been a serious man, and he wasn’t joking now.

“049 is in its containment cell,” he said, finally answering the question you’d asked moments ago, “but I don’t believe the Site Director plans to let you return there. You are… scheduled for more tests.”

You shot upright, sending a jolt of pain through your skull.

“No! Please, I can’t—I can’t do it again! I’ll keep 049 in line, just like he wanted, I will. Just—please, don’t…”

The pained sympathy in his eyes was enough of an answer.

“It’s not my decision, but for what it’s worth… I’m sorry.”

Dr. Puli moved away from the medical bed, leaving you alone to stew in your dread. The heavy pit in your stomach didn’t abate, even when you were given two days to recover. 049’s treatment had been very effective, returning your health quicker than any natural means, and you were cleared for testing on the third morning.

The irony didn’t escape you.

Next Chapter

[boredwritergirl]

Day 11 - A Midnight Goose

Hey everyone, this is an edit of an old short story I found. I had initially written it a few years ago and believed it to be lost when my hard drive died, but apparently google docs had a copy. So, since I really don't have the time today, I've decided to just edit this story and count that for the challenge. I was a VERY different person when I first wrote this, but it still brings back good memories, hope you enjoy.

A Midnight Goose

Another day, another unpaid overnight shift. Each night I came home stumbling around the tenement, too tired to focus but too restless to fall asleep. 

This night was no different than any of the others, sitting on the floor with a beer in one hand and a controller in the other. The sole illumination of the tv flooding my pigsty of a living room. I knew I should clean it, but I never had the energy to do anything. All I wanted to do was sit-back, take my mind off things and beat up some virtual baddies to the serene sound of crickets.

Unfortunately, I wouldn’t get my crickets. Through the apartment walls that damn middle aged couple was arguing again. It wouldn’t bother me so much if either knew how to shut the fuck up. As much as I wanted to tell them off, I know all too well that’ll only make a longer and louder argument.

There was only one thing I could do, put in my headphones, turn up the music and focus on landing ten string combos in Tekken. I figured It helped get me through my parents divorce, so it would help me again here.

Time flew by as I mindlessly practiced the same few combos over and over again, only stopping when I heard a strange sound. Piercing through the rockin’ tunes of The Protomen, was something that sounded like a sick, twisted hybrid of screeches and screams. I took off my headphones and looked around, only to be met by silence. 

After an awkward silence, I started to put my headphones back on but stopped as I faintly heard something moving in the shared hallway. I put the headphones back down as I turned my head towards my door. The door slowly creeped open;, it felt like my heart was beating twice for every centimeter the door moved. 

With the bottom half of the door obscured by stacks of old boxes and piles of dirty clothes, all I could hear was the waddling of little webbed feet. A brisk cold shivered down my spine as I felt like I was being watched. My heart took a vacation to the bottom of my stomach as I met the creature’s beady little eyes.

HONK!

The goose let out a mighty declaration of its arrival, a loud, hoarse honk that could’ve woken up the dead. My eyes went dull and my jaw made sweet love to the floor. I sat there motionless as a wild animal started roaming around my four story apartment. The shock induced numbness I felt could only have been matched by the curiosity that the goose must have felt as it started sticking its beak into every little thing I owned. 

My uninvited guest then proceeded to stick its head right into a pile of clothes next to the tv. It pulled and it pulled;, obviously it had either gotten stuck or gotten a hold on something too big for it. 

After a big tug, it managed to pull out a controller from the pile. To my surprise, the goose immediately pressed the “on” button with its beak, connecting it to my console. Does the goose want to play? I thought, still too dumbfounded to speak.

The goose then waved both of its wings at me, challenging me.

HONK!

I could tell, this goose was ready to rumble. 

I loaded up VS MODE, sending us to the character select screen. I wasn’t going to show this goose any mercy; I immediately picked my main, Kazuya. ‘We’ll see how cocky this goose is after taking a couple of Electric Wind God Fists up the ass,.’ I thought.

To my utter shock and horror, the goose immediately picked one of the most overpowered characters in Tekken 7. A mainstay in the tournament scene and overall pain in the ass,  Geese Howard. 

‘Why did he have to pick that character? Why couldn’t he have picked one of the shitty guest characters like Noctis or Negan? Actually, something about a post-apocalyptic brute with a baseball bat is oddly fitting for a goose now that I think about it,.’ I thought. ‘Actually, I should be fine. Geese Howard is an SNK character, meaning that all of his inputs are crazy hard. If they’re that hard for the human hand, then that goose has no chance of doing any of his special moves.’ I foolishly laughed internally.

When the game finally loaded up, I immediately went for the Mishima style signature move, the electric wind god fist. My jaw had another sudden meeting with the floor as the goose countered my attack. This is impossible, how the fuck can a goose even press ←↙↓↘→1+3!!! This thought echoed through my head as poor Kazuya Mishima was picked up by Geese Howard, juggling my character in the air. As the fight continued, the goose dragged my virtual self across the stage and through the many walls of the Howard Estate until it achieved a perfect victory. 

I dropped my controller at the realization that I lost the first round to a goose without even managing to hit him once. I was too shocked to even pick my controller back up for round two. By the time I regained my senses, I had lost the match.

The goose rapidly flapped its wings again. No doubt, it was mocking me.

HONK!

The goose suddenly rushed at me. In a panic I got up and started running away. The damn thing actually chased me out of my apartment, closing the door behind me as I dashed out the door.

‘This is ridiculous, I guess now’s as good a time as any to ask the neighbors if any of them own a goose,’ I thought, right before knocking on the door of my noisy neighbors from before. 

Not long after I started knocking, the door flew open and my neighbor's body fell out the door frame. Her body was covered in cuts and bruises, her mouth was stuffed with eggs. By the look of things, the eggs went all the way down her throat. Naturally, I could only think of those classic three words. What the fuck?

Her body began to shake violently as the eggs suddenly started hatching. I could only watch in terror as little geese started popping out of her mouth. The baby geese deeper in the body were forcing themselves through, creating a massive hole in her chest as they tried to escape. 

As I slowly started to back away from the body, the doors opened from all across the long apartment complex hallway. Flocks of geese were flooding through the halls. I tried my damndest to run away, but my body was swallowed into the ocean of geese. Each goose that surrounded me, taking a bite or two until I was dead.

Soon after my demise, the geese flooded through the city streets. It didn’t take long for the geese to spread. All over the world, Geese were committing mass genocide as part of a ritual to ressurect their ancient gods; Honkthulu, Honkatalth, Nyarlathogoose, ShubHonkaroth, The Goose in Yellow and many more antedelivuan horrors.

“So shall it be at the end of the world, Thy Honks consumed.”

Sir Honkington The Third 13:11

[buttercuparry]

Thoughts about S2 :

Victor is my fav but I'm afraid they will kill him

Randall the fucking Conspiracy theorist can just suck my imaginary dick *pardon my language*

Jade god damn it just think before you speeeeak and buy yourself some Empathy™

Sara I misjudged you

Elgin u are my second fav don't die

slowwwwer season I prefer the 1 , also because the supernatural layers became a looooot but without any sense. I preferred it when it was about clues and they were going somewhere, here it seemed a bit too much with the dream dimension. You cannot establish rules and change all rules on the go

If Fatima's baby is a monster I riot

Ellis scared me I thought he would be dead by now

If we were in my nightmares omg it would be frogs everywhere and moths for u T_T brrrrrr

Not a fan of new characters in general

I would ship Sara and Kenny if they had not screwed that

Tilly is scary as fuck I never trust a granny in horror movies I have seen the visit

god damn it, Christopher!

Jimbojim is the stupidest guy in town ding dong new flash

Tabitha - Jade - Victor = my golden trio

Ethan : annoying kid in horror movie - video game trope

They will not need that much food with the pace they all die

Jade god damn it give back that bike

I miss Hot!Priest

It doesn't change anything to put Tabi out of the equation, it just feels like a potiential end if they had no budget for S3

Victor, my boy. He is trapped in that town since he was a kid, but it is also his home. He lost his mom, his sister, but he is trying, he is trying as he did but failed all those years ago. And people think that he has something wrong with him but he is trapped in his memories- but he forgets and so he draws and it is all so heartbreaking.

Randall can go fuck himself.

Jade is an asshole, selfish fucking prick, but I love him and he screams at haunted dolls and wears kitty t-shirts and has hallucinations of soldiers and dead men :3

Sara is the tortured oracle but she did pull a knife on a kid, following the instructions of those voices and I know being trapped in a town that won't let you leave will make you desperate but yeah...i haven't been able to look past that.

(She is desperately trying to make up for it and she feels so guilty and so much pain...maybe next season I will warm up to her again)

Elgin may you have the strongest plot armour.

Yeah totally, season 1 was more structured. I think in trying to mount horrors upon horrors, they over did it. It could have been the night creatures + something about the dream dimension. Or night creatures + the mystery of the forest. But they went creatures + lighthouse+ radio + dreams + ballerina + dolls and + and + and + and +....

It didn't really settle. Hoping season 3 would be better.

Prayer circle around Fatima. Let her AMD Ellis and their baby be happy.

Amelie please don't talk about moths being everywhere omg. Omg. OMG! OMGGGGGGH!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

I knew the moment they had another paramedic on the bus, that she would know Sara somehow. That she might even be her lover!

I don't know if I remember Tilly...

Jim is truly so stupid. Like ugh ugh...and the way he got led by Randall! UGH

YES! TABITHA-JADE-VICTOR!

Ethan is that special kid from every horror movie. He has got that something the forest wants!

Hot priest you were gone too soon and left behind your husband Boyd :(

I don't think they have put Tabitha out. In Tabs may now get to move around in the world and research why and where she got stuck with her family and how is it she got out. She isn't just going to sit around while her kids are still trapped!

[chesters-ocs]

it seems i like writing dialogue a lot. uh. lolzies

wc: 1k

The high priestess has almost become a regular in this universe. Enough that, when she decided to take a break and visit, an unfortunately familiar face sat down next to her on the part bench.

In her world of origin, the man besides her is a respected and adored god. One of sanctuary and the promise of safety, eyes eternally warm, with the touch so hot it feels like it melts away all troubles in an instant. Sometimes, it truly did, if you were lucky enough.

In her opinion, the male in front of her is a sorry excuse for a human being, and she almost pitied the god she oh-so dearly cherished, for being forced to have the same features as this... creature. This utter criminal scum with an ego the size of the sun.

His face did not belong on such a rat, she thought, before the, in her very biased opinion, vile man spoke to her, as he leaned back into the bench.

"Ugh, didn't know hallucinations could chase me trough universes," he complained.

She could smell the stench of blood and gunpowder radiating off the man from a mile away, but forced herself to at least attempt to remain civil.

"Vikram," she greeted quietly, keeping her eyes ahead, opting to focus on the way the wind rustled the leaves in the lush trees.

"It's Stone to you," he bit back, but to no avail. Mary was desensitized to his antics by now.

"Apologies."

"Whatever. Why are you here? I didn't even do anything that warrants a one-way trip back to my own, shit universe, and you both know it!"

"..."

"Great, miss old and wise one is giving me the silent treatment," he complained.

"It is not your business, but I am here for... Personal matters. Mother does not know I am here."

"... Mother? Wait, you don't mean... She is still alive here!? Oh, when I fucking get my hands on her-!" he growled, sitting upright, remembering the horror stories his late lover had told of his daughter's biological mother. Of what an absolute wicked creature she once was.

The priestess looks at him, confused, as she speaks: "No... My mother as in Lady Maecetis," she corrects, ignoring the obnoxiously loud huff of disappointment leaving the man.

"Really? That old hag? I don't know which is the worst of the two evils," he spat, distaste clear in his voice, and silenced the woman with a firm hand to her mouth before she could even argue back and defend the goddess' honor, "Oh and shut up, Beta I don't want to hear your preachy bullshit."

Mary would have bit him then and there for the blatant disrespect for her and her superior, but she held back, due to a single word, and just pulled back, swatting his hand away.

"What did you just call me?"

"Didn't call you shit, you little pest!" Vikram grunted, truly not even realizing what he did moments ago.

"... You think I'm your daughter."

It wasn't a question. Both of them, in that moment, understood it as a fact, and Vikram sighed, looking away from the priestess.

She politely ignored the tears threatening to spill from his eyes, as he started ranting, while wiping at his eyes with a dust stained sleeve, which served to aggravate the tears further.

"You look like her. You talk like her. You are everything she was robbed of. I cannot stand looking at you, but I love her too much to hate you. You, Beta, are my own personal hell."

Sure, Mary knew the version of her in his universe was long-gone, but she hadn't expected the grief to linger. The pain to keep bubbling and hissing within the man next to her.

The tiny priestess could swear up and down she detested this version of the man who provided her with solace and rest within his temple, but then her goddess would no doubt scold her for lying.

"You said... You hated my mother?" Mary asks, and Vikram looks at her from the corner of his eye with a clear frown.

With a sigh and a curt nod, he reaches for her hands, a silent order.

The woman does not protest, letting him hold one, as he inspects it, looking for the damage.

"... Hm. You got lucky, it seems. Open your mouth."

"What?"

"Just... Open it. Wider."

Following his lead, she does so, but the furrowing brow gives way to her clear confusion, as he leans in to inspect the sharp teeth.

"Fuck, you really have everything she did not have..." he sighs, dejected, and pulls back, just raising more questions in Mary's mind.

"Hah, you really don't know, huh," he asks rhetorically, before explaining it to the immortal, "When... you were little, your... father - Sylvester, was still married to your mother. She... hurt you. Irreparably. But you... You weren't. By some sick, stupid stroke of luck, you were safe. She-she was not!"

Mary is grateful that she had steeled herself beforehand, and did not flinch when his voice rose, simply listening to his frustrations. Her resolve ended when he abruptly hugged her, and she froze, tensing.

"It's not fair. It just is not fair!" He sobbed.

Feeling she should at least do something, she bit trough her biases and pulled out a handkerchief from her pockets, offering it to the godly lookalike.

"... Keep it."

She didn't speak as he took it, returning her attention back to the park.

This seemed to be like the one time that time was not on her side. Her "target", Martin was nearby, and the two happened to lock eyes, as he smiled and waved.

She had been wanting to speak to the ex-god for weeks, and their schedules just not allowed for it to come into fruition.

"Uhm.. I.. I gotta go," she excused herself, eagerly meeting the other, leaving Vikram behind.

He couldn't help but to stare at the piece oe fabric and just feel pity for himself, as he was once again left to rot alone. But for some reason, this one hurt just a little more than it should.

[blamebonk]

uuu..... i tried to send an ask just now and i dont think it worked....... sorry if you get two in your inbox!!

But thank u for sharing HCs (not the original anon but just a hc enthusiast.....) i'd love to hear any more you have for Beel! Or perhaps Lord Diavolo.... he's a very fun character to me

ORRRR, perhaps, any takes on the Devildom/the realms, if youre into thinking about the worldbuilding side..... fank youuou ^_^ i give funny image in exchange

LMAO THANK U!!! I’ll take ur image and give you world building thoughts because that sparked something in my brain

Devildom headcanon talk!

Devildom is so super fun so I like to think the demons come in literally every shape and size, some don’t look human and don’t really have a human form ( more like minotaurs or some deep sea creature). Like okay Beel and Diavolo are big but there’s bigger!

There’s also demons out there that are there purely to harm and kill and there’s no school program or threats from royalty that could change them. Demons like those are like…human world cryptids, a lot of biblical sort of horror too as well.

Now that I think about it ( pretty sure this isn't canon like at all??) but the brothers def weren’t the only angels to fall and I guuuessss some of those guys could have also turned into good ol human looking demons….but I think there’s more that don’t have any ‘humanity’ in them. Not powerful enough to fully survive falling in a way... they look like, freaky as fuck HAHA

Like imagine you’re the human exchange student it’s like your 3rd night here and you look out your window and YOO!! A figure at your window, it’s got a deathly complexion but you can almost feel it’s heart beating from here and it feels like you know them and they're telling you to open the window PLEASE just open the window- they need help- the window- there’s a pounding now it’s eyes are burning into your vision-- oh omg mammons here telling you to come out and eat dinner! Stupid human!

Like I’m not good at horror or writing but you get I’m i'm 'gettin at? more brain vom under here!

So there’s creepy scary demons in devildom and also ones that are spooky but you sit next to em at lunch!! Succubus, incubus, demons of ice, demons of fire, demons with two heads, some with six arms…. Demons the size of houses and some the size of Luke.. some chick you passed in the hall looked really slimy but that could have just been a potion accident ..?? And more with specific powers and stuff!

Maybe I’m injecting a little too much silly fantasy Halloween cartoon special into this but like…is that not fun to think abt? HAHAE

I don’t think ALL these demons go to RAD so I bet Diavolo takes Mc with him on a trip outside of the city one day and is like “ we’ll have a lovely brunch outside with Hebulaie !!” Or something and Hebulaie is 20x TIMES DIAVOLOS' SIZE? LIKE NO WONDER WE’RE OUTISIDE!!

One of Beel’s fangol teammates has a cow head and another looked completely human until he turned around and had warthog tusks.

Brothers aren't exempt either! they're some of the most powerful demons out there. they can't seem human forever. Belphie gives me boogey man vibes, you see the outline of some darker figure at right outside your door in the dark ass hallway and it's like not moving at all. you can sorta make out features but its warped and too dark.... then it fuckin MOVES and u freak the hell out. Belphie snickers at you and hops in bed. ( i would maul him immediately )

When you're trying to sneak up the stairs the attic to figure out why you've been having dreams that wake you up in tears, you get a weird feeling and look down the stairs and are met with Lucifer staring right up at you and directly into your soul eheh.

One of Mammon's poker buddies has an arm made of gold, they can't move it or brake it off since it came from a curse of greed. They will tell you the whole story about how the object that cursed him RIGHTFULLY belongs to him!! you think that's why they're still cursed.

All demons have a few forms too, not just the regular human one with wings or tail! Leviathan probably has a sea serpent form bigger than Lotan...Asmo with a centipede like form,, so many hands and legs...ouhrhhggg

there’s demons but there’s also mythical fauna and flora!!! Like centaurs, fairies, jackalope…but also strange shit like a goat that can eject it’s organs out and you’re like “what’s the purpose of that” ‘n Satan tells you “ it’s carnivorous”…as if that explains anything!!?!?

The gay plant from the white day event that specifically goes after demon noses GHAHA i like to think some devildom florist is probably growing some of and advertising them as a fun prank gift...also the amount of harmful things that target or can be used to target humans that are in every day demon life... so fun!!

you know the weird scenarios that happen in adventure time? like the episode where this group of blank eyed girls scare the hell out of finn and jake and it's just really strange but ultimately harmless? stuff like that happens all the time in Devildom LMAO tons of weird unexplainable things happen and most the time it's like,,,okay going to move on with my day now i guess.

I just realized you said REALMS so i wanna add that the human realm isn't devoid of these things. as much as Dia, Barbs, and Luci may try there are alot of demonic things that live in the human realm. I believe the Sorcerers Society + witch covens are a big part of cover up and 'care'. I like to think that makes Solomon's and Mc's time up in the human realm very interesting, especially when Mc becomes his apprentice! Mc gives the brothers SO many gray hairs.

That's all i have right now, i hope that's what you were askin for? I'd love to hear yours and others HC's and input too!! i'm also a HC enthusiast

[medusapelagia]

31 AU-gust: Two of 2022 prompts (Hanahaki Disease + Surfer)

[This is the last one!!! Thank you so much for staying with me during this experience and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!]

Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve Harrington/Billy Hargrove Characters: Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove, Eddie Munson WT: blood, sickfick, mutual pinning WC: 3804

"What would you like to do when all of this is over?" "Go back to California."

That's what Billy has murmured to Steve on the sticky floor of the Starcourt.

Many things have happened in the meantime.

The world has almost ended, again, someone has been badly hurt, again, they were almost killed, again, but at the end of the day, Steve is sitting on a chair between Billy and Eddie and Max is just a few rooms down.

It's past the visitors' hours and the nurses have tried to make him leave more than once but he hasn't and both the boys have become so distressed that in the end, they decided to let him stay for the night. And the next night. And the next one. Until Steve was absolutely sure that no one was going to die.

"Steve, you should go home." Eddie says while he is writing in the hospital notebook that Steve stole for him.

"Uh?"

"He is right. You have been here for days, Muson here is getting better every day, and Max is only waiting for her leg to heal and she will be home soon."

The only problem is that there is no home.

The trailer park was devastated, like half of the town, so they are keeping Max at the hospital as long as they can. Peak of being involved with Upside Down shit, five stars treatment at the hospital.

"No, I want to be here in case you need something." Steve states and then gets back to the crossword puzzle that he was doing.

"Steve. You stink. You need to take a shower and to sleep in a fucking bed." Billy replies in a stern voice.

He trembles.

"I... stink?"

"You do. You have been here for days without taking a shower or anything. Come on!"

Steve feels something scratching his throat.

"That's what you think of me?"

Billy grins "Don't make it personal! It's just the truth."

Eddie glares at Billy “I think that you should stop it, Billy, before saying something you will regret.”

“He stinks. Can’t you smell him?”

“He has stayed at your bedside for days, Hargrove. And he didn’t complain.”

“Yes, but…”

Steve lifts his hands “Ok, ok, don’t argue. I’ll go home and grab a shower, ok?” 

The tickle in his throat is becoming really annoying.

“Listen, Steve, Hargrove here didn’t mean it like that, you know how he is and…”

Steve starts to cough, and cough. He feels like something is trying to get out of his mouth, like in some horror movie.

He runs toward the bathroom, coughing even more.

He drinks some tap water and slowly the strange feeling starts to fade.

“Are you ok there, big boy?” Eddie calls.

Steve looks at his face in the mirror. He really looks horrible. Maybe going home for the night is not a bad idea. But what if someone takes them away when he is not here? Or if something happens? Or if another creature from that hellish dimension appears out of nowhere?

“Steve?” Billy’s voice drags him away from his thoughts.

“Sorry. Spit just went down the wrong pipe.” he replies, getting back to the room.

He is scared. He is fucking scared that something will happen if he is not there. But they are right. He can’t stay all his life in a hospital room. But at least here they are together.

“Are you scared?” Eddie asks, always too intuitive.

Steve denies it, but Billy grabs his arm and lets him sit on his bed “Your parents’ are still away?”

He nods, silently.

Billy’s hands close in a fist.

“But it’s fine. I’ll go home and I’ll come back tomorrow and…”

“No, no, no, you know what you are going to do? You are going to take a shower, grab some things, and come back here. I’m sure that Billy can convince a nurse to let you sleep here with us.”

“But I’m not sick.”

“You got bitten by interdimensional bats. Who knows what could happen to you!” Eddie replies with a dramatic gesture.

Steve smiles at the performance and then he feels Billy’s hand on his back “That’s better isn’t it?”

And the tickle in his throat comes back.

  ***

 Steve will never know how Billy and Eddie managed to convince the nurse to let him stay, but when he comes back there is a little cot in a corner of the room, and for the first time in days he doesn’t have to sleep on a chair. But that doesn’t mean that he gets a good night's sleep.

 "What would you like to do when all of this is over?" "Go back to California."

 “Steve. Steve!” someone is calling his name and shaking him.

He opens his eyes and Billy’s face is in front of him.

“Billy! Are you ok?” he asks, sitting on the bed and looking at him worriedly.

“Am I ok? You were screaming in your sleep!”

Oh. That.

“I do that sometimes. I’m sorry I disturbed your sleep.”

“That’s not what I meant!” he grumbles “Are you ok?”

Is any of them ok?

Of course not! 

He has nightmares and fears and he is terrified of losing sight of his friends.

He is not fucking ok.

“I’m good. Go back to sleep.”

Billy stares at him in the pale light of the street light for a long moment and then goes back to his bed.

He doesn’t limp anymore as he used to.

“Billy?” he calls.

“Uhm?”

"What would you like to do when all of this is over?"

Billy stares at him in silence and for a moment Steve thinks that maybe he remembers, that he is going to answer "Go back to California."

“Get out of this shitty hospital, find a job, and live my fucking life.”

Oh. Ok. That’s a good idea too.

“Good night Billy.”

“Night.”

Steve closes his eyes but he stays awake for a long time, fighting the horrible tickle in his throat.

  ***

Discharged.

The guys are going to be discharged and Eddie is already planning an entire trip.

“I need to find a fucking job Munson, and you too actually.” Billy complains.

“Naah, you don’t need a job when you have the government money!”

“It will not last forever, soon or later you’ll have to find a job.” Billy insists.

“I will when I need to. Why don’t let me tell you about the trip that I organized? I have found all the most bizarre tourist attractions between here and… California.”

Billy’s eyes shine for a moment at the word, then he becomes serious “I shouldn’t…”

“Come on! Live a little! It will be fun!”

“What about Max?”

“Your little sister will be just fine with the Sinclairs! So, what do you say?”

“Ok. I’d like to see the ocean.”

“What do you say, pretty boy? Let’s go to California?”

Steve turns abruptly toward him “Are you asking him to come?”

The tickles become stronger and stronger until he has to take a paper tissue and cough loudly.

“Are you ok Stevie?” Eddie asks.

Steve, who is giving them his back, sees some blood on the tissue.

That can not be a good sign.

“Fine. I’m fine. I had something stuck in the throat but now I feel so much better.”

It’s not a lie.

The boys look at him worriedly but then they keep talking about the little trip they are going on.

  ***

A petal.

In his fucking tissue there is a petal.

He should show it to Robin, she would probably tell him what kind of flower it is, but the truth is that he doesn’t care. All he wants to know is why he coughed a petal.

He makes some generic questions to his doctor during his check-up but the man knows nothing about coughing flowers.

He doesn’t want to travel with Billy and Eddie if this is contagious, but they already slept in the same room for weeks and no one of them seemed to be coughing flowers.

Maybe they are hiding it, just like him.

“Have you… have you ever coughed flowers?” he asks Eddie while he is filling up the car and Billy is in the bathroom.

“Coughed flowers? What does it mean?”

“Uh? Nothing is just… a line from a song. I thought you knew it.”

Eddie shakes his head “No, sorry, never heard of that. Is that famous or…”

Billy comes back, wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him up.

“What were the two of you plotting?”

Steve feels the sensation he is too familiar with.

“Nothing. I just have to go to the bathroom.”

“I thought you didn’t need it.”

He frees himself from Billy’s grip “One sec.”

He runs toward the bathroom and starts to cough.

That’s not one petal, these are many, many red petals mixed with blood and spit.

Disgusting.

“Are you ok?”

Billy’s voice calls from the entrance and Steve coughs again, throwing up even more petals.

He keeps coughing petals, struggling for oxygen, and when he thinks he is going to blackout in the stupid stall, the cough finally stops and he breathes again.

“Steve?”

“I’m fine. But don’t pick me up again please.” he replies.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know that your stomach was so sensitive.”

It isn’t.

But it’s better than the truth.

  ***

California.

Blue sea, white sand, ocean breeze.

Billy seems like another person while he swims like a dolphin between the waves.

Steve would like to swim too but he is too scared of the flower thing so he stays on the beach with Eddie, waving at him like a parent to his kid.

“You should talk to him.”

“Uh?”

“Billy. You should tell him what you feel.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Eddie studies him for a long moment and then he nods to himself “Maybe it’s too soon.”

Steve has no idea what he is talking about, so he turns his head and Billy is right in front of him, his skin is glistening and he is smiling so brightly that he gets almost blind when he looks at him.

“Are you having fun?”

“I am. Would you like to surf?”

“Surf? Me? I have never…”

“I can teach you! Come on. Put on your swim trunks and let's go!”

“What about Eddie?”

“I don’t think that Eddie is going to like the water. He is like a stray cat!”

“Fuck off Hargrove! And you go, Stevie. Don’t worry about me. Have fun for once.” Eddie replies with a wink.

Steve gets back to the van and puts on his swim trunks and when he comes back, Billy is waiting for him with a board in his hands and another in the sand.

“Come on. I’ll show you.”

Billy takes the board and surfs some little waves, showing off a little, but Steve smiles at him proudly. 

“Who is that freak?” someone asks at his side and Steve looks back at Billy.

His white t-shirt is wet and has become completely see-through, so all his horrible scars are showing.

“He is someone who survived certain death and is riding those fucking waves like a pro!” he rebukes them, and the two guys quickly move away.

“Have you seen me?” he asks, shaking his head like a wet dog.

“I did. You were amazing!”

“Would you like to try?”

He gets in the water.

“Go on, lie on the board, not too forward and not too far, almost in the middle, so you can jump on the board when you catch the wave.” he explains to him “We will start with some whitewater waves. They are the easiest to catch and the more forgiving.” 

Billy gets on his board, showing Steve how to move in the water “First of all start paddling, big long, cupped strokes. Don’t forget to kick your feet. And when you are ready…” he jumps on the board and surfs.

“Easy, right?”

Well, not at all! Steve is quite good at surfing on his belly, but when he tries to stand up he falls every single time.

“You should go. You will have more fun without me.”

Billy shakes his head “Come on. I know you can do it. Let’s try again.”

And they try again, and again, and again, and finally Steve manages to surf a little whitewater.

Eddie is cheering for him from the beach and Billy… Billy is behind him looking proudly at Steve and he loses his balance falling into the water while he starts to cough underwater.

He sees the red blood in the blue of the ocean and a few seconds later Billy is pulling him out from the water.

“Are you ok? I saw blood. Did you hurt yourself?”

But Steve can’t answer. He keeps coughing and coughing and finally, he spit a big red rose.

Eddie gets closer to him and looks at the flower with horror.

“It wasn’t a fucking song, right Harrington?”

Billy stares at the two of them confused, the bloody rose still in Steve's hands.

“What the fuck is happening?”

“Our Steve has been coughing flowers. For a while, I suppose, but he didn’t tell us.”

“Coughing flowers? What the hell does it mean? Is he sick?” Billy asks, holding Steve even tighter.

“I’m not sick. Or, if I am, it’s an unknown disease. I already spoke to a doctor.”

“Not the right kind of doctor.” Eddie replies, sharing a look with Billy.

  ***

California’s hospitals are no different from Hawkin’s. The only difference is that he is isolated and that Owens has done a lot of tests.

His left lung is completely obstructed, and the right one is not so good either.

“There are flowers that are growing into your lungs, Steve. And I don’t know how that is possible.”

“Maybe I breathe a seed or something…”

Owens stares at him behind his mask “I think that you breathed something. In the Upside Down. And now it is growing in your lungs.”

“So what are you going to do?”

Owens sighs, sitting on a chair next to him “My advice is surgery. We might have to remove the left lung but maybe we could save part of the right one.”

“And if it’s too compromised?”

“I think you know the answer.”

He does, but he is not ready to die at twenty-one.

“How long do you think…?”

“One month. Maybe two.”

“Oh.”

“Do you want me to call your parents, Steve?”

“No. They are in Europe. I… I’ll deal with it.”

The man puts a hand on his shoulder and leaves the room.

After a few minutes, he hears some noises in the corridor and he hears Eddie and Billy complaining that they want to see him.

His heart starts to beat faster. How can he tell them that he has only one month, maybe two?

He is still thinking when the door opens and the two of them get in the room.

“Are you ok Steve? What did he say?”

Steve doesn’t answer and starts to cry, and Billy hugs him tight.

“It’s going to be ok, Steve. We will find a solution. It’s going to be ok, I swear.”

“They gave me one month…” he tries to say while he keeps coughing, and coughing and coughing spitting another horribly beautiful flower.

“It’s you.” Eddie says from the other side of the room, pointing at Billy.

“What the fuck are you saying?”

“It’s you!” Eddie repeats, taking away Steve from Billy’s grip.

Steve's coughs subside and then stop.

“What the fuck does it mean?”

“I don’t know but he gets worse when he is near to you.”

Billy lowers his head “I’m sorry. I don’t know how this works… but if you will feel better far from me so be it. I will never see you again and…”

But Steve knows that he has only one month to live and he doesn’t want to waste it being separated.

“No!” he yells “If I only have a month I want to spend it with you. I love you Billy, and I don’t care that you don’t love me back but please, please, don’t leave me alone now.” he cries, still in Eddie’s arms.

Billy kneels in front of him “I love you too and I feel so stupid now. We could have had all the time in the world and now… now…”

Steve doesn’t want to waste any more time so he kisses him and Billy doesn’t seem to care that he still has spit and blood on his mouth.

Billy soon gets control of the kiss, kissing him deeply, almost aggressively, trying to devour him, and Steve lets him take what he wants until he feels the familiar sensation that grows into his throat.

He starts to cough, but the thing is stuck inside him. He keeps coughing and coughing and he feels the flower in his mouth but it doesn’t get out.

Eddie holds his head gently, while Billy grabs the fucking flower and starts to pull it.

It burns, it hurts, all Steve can feel is pain, and before loses consciousness he sees what looks like bloody roots.

  ***

The floor it’s sticky from the monster’s body that melted on the ground.

Billy’s eyes are blurry while Steve holds him.

“Help him! Help him!” Max is screaming in his ear. No emergency kit could stop the blood that is coming out from Billy’s body, but he keeps pushing on the wound, trying his best to keep him from bleeding out on the fucking floor.

“Hey, hey, it will be ok. Help it’s on the way. You just have to wait for a little longer, ok?”

The blond boy spits some blood on Steve’s uniform but he doesn’t flinch.

“Hold on, ok? Hold on. Just for a moment longer.”

Robin is rambling with someone, maybe a doctor but Steve can’t move his sight from Billy’s eyes. He has to keep him here with him.

“Hey, now that you have graduated you can do whatever you want, right?” he tells him, trying very hard to keep his tone calm.

"What would you like to do when all of this is over?" he asks him with a smile.

"Go back to California." Billy whispers, and then he takes a big breath and his eyes close.

“Billy? Billy?”

Max is screaming, trying to shake him but Steve will not have anyone close to him.

“Put pressure on the wound!” he orders and Lucas and Dustin obey immediately while Steve starts to perform CPR.

“We are going to California. Do you hear me, fucking moron?” he yells, while pushing hard on his chest, hearing the ribs fracture “We are going to fucking California and you are going to teach me how to surf. And we will drink on the beach, looking at the stupid sunset! DO YOU FUCKING HEAR ME?” he keeps pushing, and then breathing two times into Billy’s mouth.

It’s the closest thing to a kiss that they ever shared.

“Please, move, we have to…”

But Steve is not listening, he loves that fucking heart and even if he doesn’t love him back he is not going to let him rest.

He keeps pushing, and breathing, until he sees Billy’s chest moving.

“Good job!” one of the paramedics says to him, and then he drags him away while the other starts to work on Billy.

“Are you injured? I suspect you have a concussion and…”

“Billy!” he says, pointing at the boy.

“He is in good hands.”

“Robin!” he looks around and the girl is nowhere to be seen “Robin!” he calls again.

“I’m here. I’m here. I’m ok. Let her have a look at you, ok dingus?”

Steve nods.

The only thing in his mind is California.

"What would you like to do when all of this is over?" "Go back to California."

  ***

When he comes back to his senses, the first thing that he hears is a steady beat from somewhere to his right.

He tries to move and he feels someone holding his hand.

“Steve? Are you awake?”

He opens his eyes, his vision is blurred but there is no mistaking those blue eyes.

“Billy?” he asks, his voice is rough.

“That’s me, pretty boy. How do you feel?” he asks, helping him sit and then he gets him some ice chips.

Steve stays still for a moment, waiting for the familiar pain, but when he feels nothing at all he opens his mouth and lets Billy feed him a couple of ice chips.

They are delicious.

“Slowly.” Billy scolds him with a warm smile while he feeds him another chip.

If there is something more taster than ice chips, Steve has never tasted it.

“How do you feel?” Billy asks again, brushing some hair away from his face,

“Good?”

“Is that a question, pretty boy?” Billy says amused, then he gets serious “You gave us quite a scare, Stevie.” he scolds him, holding his hand “I really thought you were going to die in my arms.” 

Steve knows exactly how that feels.

“Sorry.”

“No need to be sorry, but I want you to promise me that if you don’t feel well or something strange happens to you, you will tell me. Immediately.”

Steve nods and when he turns he sees that on his nightstand there are a couple of beautiful flowers with roots.

“Are they…?”

Billy nods “I ripped one from your throat and Owens and his doctors were able to rip the others. You had a seven-hour-long surgery, but there are no more roots or flowers in your lungs.”

“Did they… Did they remove my lung?” he asks, trying to look at his chest, but Billy takes his chin between his fingers looking him in the eyes. 

“No. They just took away those damned flowers.” Billy looks at the flowers for a moment “I wanted to throw them away but Munson insisted that they were beautiful so…”

“They are, actually.”

Billy looks at them with hatred “They would be if they wouldn't have almost killed you!”

“I would like to plant them.”

“Really?”

Steve nods, looking at the flowers. “They are beautiful. And they are the reason we finally found love so… why not?”

Billy smiles at him “When you put it like that…”

“How is our flower boy?” Eddie asks, entering the room.

“Fuck off Munson!” Billy admonishes him.

“Oh, so you are not grateful to me? I’m the one that cracked the case!”

Eddie is always so melodramatic.

Steve laughs and then starts to cough and both Eddie and Billy freeze, waiting for some flowers.

“Sorry. Spit just went down the wrong pipe.” and when they see that there are no flowers they all breathe a sigh of relief.