#and for your body to just react a certain way that you cant control

[tinyshyteacup]

Taglist: @jozzieblood @buckysteveloki-me @dragonoftheshadows @plaidconvers @kateawolf13 @keira-kaz2y5 @frog-fans-unite @doilooklikeagiveafrack @verynormalsstuff @nynxtea @iminyourceiling @seventeen-x @mgchaser @y0urgirl @lovely-seb @laughterafter @mysuperlaserpissnumber1fan @irasciblemogwai @svtbpbts @vivalas-vega @chonkybonky @bmyva1entine @6urmom @gullableh @homiesexual-or-homosexual @aoi-targaryen @bitter-semi-sweet @soflegacy @kath-666 @hiireadstuff @nyxthedeity @highhopes1008 @sineminuse @hxsxxk-180294 @wordacadabra @hawkinsavclub1983 @buckingforbuckybarnes @purplefluffycows @raikan624 @avengemepercy @killerwendigo @winterjaysoldier @magnoliamoogle @fandomsearcherforcuntymen @huang-the-geek @joewhs @witchywannabe3263 @iyskgd @ironenemycollective @bumblebeebutter @sizzlingstarlightsky @buckybarnesslutshop @starstruck-cowgirl @angelicdarkn3ss @confused-simp-jpg @hufflepuffsforjoy @nicolebarnes @avatarobsessedgirly @escapismurmom @paige0103 @dollface-xoxo @read-just-cant-stop @sycamoregirl444 @raikan624 @iwritememesnotprophecies @imissbenswolo-blog @lcolumbia1988 @paintmekala @knowingnothingnoel @captain-shannon-becker @jainaeatsstars @mm4t @houseofthechaos @chachkid @escapefromrealitylol

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Tw: Cussing, Fluff, Angst, Tension, abduction, medical procedures.

Part 19

Words of Command - Part 20

The kitchen is bright and humming with low ambient noise. A small speaker tucked behind a fruit bowl plays an old Sam Cooke tune, low enough that you can hear the gentle sizzle of olive oil in the pan.

You’re standing at the counter, stirring a pan of vegetables, your sleeves pushed up.

Bucky enters quietly, like he always does—soft-footed despite the heavy boots. He doesn’t speak at first. He watches.

You don’t notice him right away, which means he gets a few seconds of just seeing you. You, completely at peace, humming softly along with the music.

The pan sizzles as you toss in fresh herbs, and the smell—lemon, garlic, thyme—spills into the air like memory.

He finally steps closer, enough that you feel the shift in the room.

You look over your shoulder and smile gently. “Hey, Bucky.”

He leans against the counter, metal hand tucked under his elbow, thumb grazing his jaw. “You always cook for everyone"

You hum softly in response but go back to stirring, but he doesn’t move away. In fact, he steps closer, eyes on your hands.

Then, he clears his throat. “Can I cook for you sometime?”

You blink, glancing back at him.

He’s still calm, but there’s a certain tension under the words—hope, uncertainty.

Before you can answer, Agent Collins strolls in holding a tablet and a half-eaten protein bar.

He immediately picks up on the atmosphere but—unsurprisingly—completely misreads it.

“Oh! You two playing house again?” he grins. “That’s adorable. Can I get you m-matching aprons?”

Bucky freezes.

It’s subtle—but unmistakable. His body goes from relaxed to alert in half a second.

The set of his jaw hardens, his blue eyes flicking toward Collins with restrained calculation.

Not danger.

Just control.

And irritation.

Your voice, soft but steady, cuts in before Bucky has a chance to say anything.

“Hey Collins, could you give us a minute, please?”

He blinks. “Oh—uh. Yeah. Sure. S-sorry.”

As he leaves, Bucky doesn’t watch him go. His attention is on you. Like he’s waiting for a signal.

You place the spoon down gently and turn to face him. Head tilted back slightly, that open expression Bucky always reacts to like it’s sunlight.

“You want to cook for me?” you ask with a warm smile.

He nods, serious now. “I been learning. Watching videos. I even asked Steve to help. Don’t laugh.”

“I’d never laugh, Bucky.”

He exhales slowly. “I figured… it might be a good way to say thanks. For everything. For… being patient with me. Letting me figure stuff out at my own pace.”

You wipe your hands on a dish towel, then reach up—very gently—and brush a thumb against his cheek. He closes his eyes for a beat. Doesn’t lean in, but doesn’t pull away either.

“I’d love that,” you whisper.

He opens his eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He takes a deep breath, then reaches—delicately—and takes your hand in both of his.

He cradles it gently. Thumb grazing over your knuckles like they’re something fragile, precious. His touch is reverent.

“and I sort of want to—” he begins, eyes flicking up to meet yours.

He clears his throat again, like preparing for a speech, his brows twitch just once, then he bends—slowly, hesitantly as he lifts your hand—and presses the softest kiss to your knuckles.

It lingers, for just a moment. He draws in a breath as if memorizing the shape of your hand against his lips.

When he straightens, he doesn’t let go.

“I want to take care of you too, Doll.”

Your breath catches.

His voice is low and gravelled with emotion.

Not urgent.

Not needy.

Just true.

It’s a simple sentence, but it carries weight—guilt, tenderness, and something he hasn’t yet named for himself.

The golden hour light filters through the tall windows, warm and soft. The compound’s kitchen is quieter now—the after-dinner lull has settled in.

Dishes are drying on the rack, the radio has been switched off, and the only sound is the occasional hum of the fridge.

You’re at the counter, tying off the trash bag with practiced ease. Bucky’s nearby, drying his hands on a cloth towel. He hasn’t said much since the meal, though there’s a lingering softness in his eyes.

And a warmth in your chest.

You turn to lift the bag, but Bucky steps forward, hand out.

“I’ll take that,” he murmurs.

You tilt your head. “Its all good, I got it”

He hesitates for a moment, then chuckles under his breath, brushing his metal hand through his hair. "I'll come with you"

You chuckle almost to yourself "I think I can handle a trashcan Bucky"

“C'mon Doll, where you go I go right ?" He grins, using your line against you.

“Not this time" you giggle "I'll be right back.”

Bucky blinks, as if returning from somewhere distant. "Yea, right ... of course"

You thread your fingers through his flesh hand and give a quick squeeze. "Ten minutes tops"

As you walk away, you don’t see him watching you. You don’t see Collins slink further into the corridor. And Bucky—still standing in the low light, metal thumb brushing flesh where your skin had just been.

The elevator doors hiss open with a mechanical sigh. The hallway is colder here—dim lighting, exposed pipes trailing overhead, and the sharp antiseptic bite of a place too sterile for comfort. You step into the corridor, trash bag in hand, the soft shuffle of your slippers the only sound.

The bins are down a short corridor, but a faint scrape of a shoe against concrete freezes you mid-step.

"How was dinner?"

You turned to see Agent Collins leaning against a concrete pillar, his uniform slightly rumpled and askew as always.

"Collins. You scared me." You forced a smile, but something about his posture doesn't seem normal. "What are you doing down here?"

"Waiting for you." His smile didn't reach his eyes.

"Been waiting a long time, actually. Watching you with Barnes. Interesting development today—a date, is it?"

He straightens slowly. Too slowly.

Your eyes adjust.

Gone is the clumsy smile, the fumbled clipboard, the half-stammered apologies. He stands tall now—calm, deliberate.

There’s a glint in his eye that wasn’t there before. His tie is loosened, his posture firm.

Calculated.

He smiles.

But it’s not kind.

“Funny, isn’t it?” he says, voice like oil. “How easily people believe what they want to see.”

You freeze, trash bag still in hand. “What do you mean?”

He steps forward, hands folded behind his back like a lecture’s about to begin.

“I mean... all it took was a slouch, some bad posture, and a few jokes about coffee machines. And poof—I’m harmless. Endearing, even.”

He chuckles.

It’s empty.

Your heart begins to thrum. You set the trash down slowly, deliberately.

“You’ve been watching us ?,” you say quietly.

“Just you. You’re the key, sweetheart.”

He takes a step closer.

“That’s what you don’t realize. He doesn’t even realize it. You’re not just the Asset’s handler. You could break them in half with a whisper.”

Your lips part, but no words come.

“Thing is…” Collins continues, circling a little. “I don’t think you even know how much control you have. Affection? Tenderness ?” He scoffs. “Loyalty? That’s real control.”

The air feels too tight. The pipes overhead groan faintly, the shadows stretching unnaturally across the floor.

“And don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you... Not personally."

A chill ran down your spine. "I don't know what you're talking about," you said, your hand sliding into your pocket for your key card or your phone.

Collins chuckled. "Looking for this?" He held up your phone, then tossed it to the ground, crushing it under his boot. "Sloppy. Really sloppy."

You backed away slowly. "JARVIS," you called out, hoping the surveillance extended to the parking garage.

"Disabled on this level," Collins said, advancing toward you. "For about fifteen minutes. More than enough time."

You glanced toward the emergency stairwell. Maybe thirty feet away.

"Don't," he warned, but you were already running.

You made it fifteen feet before something sliced through the air and wrapped around your ankles. You slammed onto the concrete, pain exploding in your palms and chin.

"They always pick the hard way," Collins sighed, strolling toward you casually as you struggled with the bola wrapped around your legs.

You swung wildly as Collins approached, your fist connecting with nothing but air.

His laugh cut through you as he easily dodged your desperate attempts. "What exactly are you trying to do?"

"Get away from me," you gasp, scrambling backward.

"Adorable."

His first blow caught you across the face, snapping your head back and filling your mouth with blood.

You swung wildly again, a panicked flailing that Collins barely needed to block.

"This is just sad, you live with the Avengers ... can't even defend yourself" he said, not even breathing hard while you gasped for air. "But I suppose that's why you're perfect."

Perfect? The word made no sense through the haze of fear and pain.

You tried to crawl away, fingernails scraping against concrete. Collins planted a boot on your back, forcing you flat against the cold floor.

"Bucky, Tony ... the team ... they'll find me," you managed to say, tasting blood. "They'll come for you."

Collins pressed his boot harder, making it difficult to breathe. "They won't, and Barnes ... He's still the Asset—he just doesn't know it yet."

He leaned down. "And you're going to help us."

He flipped you over with his foot, and you saw the syringe in his hand.

"No—" you tried to scream, but his hand clamped over your mouth as the needle plunged into your neck.

"You should be honored," Collins whispered as your vision began to blur. "You're exactly what we've been looking for."

The last thing you saw was his face hovering above yours, his expression almost reverent.

"Hail Hydra," he whispered.

And then darkness.

Cold.

So cold.

Your eyelids felt like lead as you forced them open.

Harsh white light stabbed into your retinas.

Metal restraints bit into your wrists and ankles.

The antiseptic smell burned your nostrils.

Your stomach cramped painfully with hunger, a hollow ache, you must've been unconscious for far longer than just a few hours.

"...perfect candidate physically," a clinical voice was saying. "Psychological profile matches all parameters. Proximity to the Asset is an unexpected bonus."

"What about the previous failures?" Another voice—Collins, though not the Collins you where used to there was no stammer, no awkwardness this Collins was still cold, precise.

"Subjects One through Six all exhibited fatal cerebral hemorrhaging during the procedure," the clinical voice replied. "But those were older subjects with established neural pathways. This one's more... malleable."

"Recovery time?" Collins pressed.

"If she survives the procedure—which I believe she will—Asset 437 could be operational within 8 months."

"Too long," Collins said. "We need her ready before the Asset recovers fully."

"The chair is prepped and ready," a third voice interjected. "But Dr. Lindstrom wants to run baseline tests first."

"The chair worked on the Asset in less than 24 hours," Collins countered. "We know the technology is sound."

"The Asset required memory suppression only," the clinical voice replied. "For Asset 437, we need complete memory erasure followed by new implantation. More complex, more dangerous. The chair needs to be recalibrated."

A face appeared above you—a woman in a lab coat, cold eyes behind thick glasses.

She noticed your open eyes and smiled thinly to the other people in the room

"Subject is conscious," she announced, making a note on a tablet. "Beginning preliminary assessment for Asset 437 program."

You tried to speak, but your voice didn't come.

You tried to move, but the restraints held firm.

All you could do was lie there, a scream building inside you with nowhere to go.

Your stomach growled loudly—an oddly intense hunger gnawing at you considering you'd eaten just before leaving the tower.

The woman raised an eyebrow and noted something on her tablet.

"Subject exhibiting unusual metabolic response already. Estimated time since last meal, only 2-4 hours, yet showing signs of advanced hunger. Promising indication of compatibility with the initial dose of serum."

Through the glass wall of your cell, you could see more labs, more equipment. More people in white coats moving with purpose.

In the adjacent room, partially visible through a doorway, you glimpsed a nightmarish mechanical chair with restraints and a halo-like apparatus that hung ominously above it.

The floor beneath it was stained dark in places, despite obvious attempts to clean it.

And on a whiteboard across from your cell, written in red marker.

ASSET 437: STAGE ONE IN PROGRESS

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you finally understood what Collins had meant by "perfect."

They weren't going to use you to get to Bucky.

They were going to erase you completely and build something new from what remained.

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

A/N: this concludes 'Words of Command' but there story continues in the next part, everyone who has been tagged in this will be tagged in the next part, a small warning it does get dark for a while, but it will have a positive ending.

[stilljuststardust]

heyy, everything ok??

i just want to ask you something, today i tried to assume something with my girlfriend, we were on a break, we started talking again, she was acting just the way i wanted, but suddenly she stopped and went back with all the thing that happened in our relation, as i saw about, this is something that i'm assumimg. today i tried to assume that she would do certain things, but this didnt happen, when im speaking with her, as she say the things i start to only listen her and my body reacts as the things she say, and my i'm drowned by thoughts opposite as the thoughts that i want to have, and even when i think, no bro thats fine you are in controll of everything, i just cant be calm and assume the things propperly.

so said this i really want to know what to do, i'm kind lost right now, i really want to know what can I do to avoid being like this and enter in the state of fullfilment and just one last thing, i also want know about the time that things are manifestated, is there some cooldown? i control this to?

thank you VERY much by now and i'm sorry if there's some mistakes in my written, english is not my first language kkkkk

Don't go back to the old assumption even when it reappears because you know the truth.

You're scared and I get that, relationships come with a lot of emotions, but you just have to persist in the knowledge that it's all ok.

When you affirm for something and it doesn't happen you keep going anyway. Affirm and PERSIST.

You don't have to be perfectly calm, just repeat repeat repeat, your realtionship is perfect your relationship is healthy.

Don't try to justify the 3D, because you know that you two are in a very healthy relationship. You know that you both treat each other so well and with so much compassion.

As for "cool down" that depends on the person. Everyone has their own assumptions about how long it will take. It can be instant or it can take as long as you assume it will take.

Manifestation is not a process or something you chip away at. People often view it that way because it can be hard to accept the power you have.

When do you think your relationship issues will be resolved?

That is when. That is your assumption about when it will materialize.

If the answer to that question was longer than you want it to be then you know why it's taking longer than you want.

If you have the assumption this is going to take a while the 3D will prove you right.

Assume that it's already resolved and it did so quickly, repeat to yourself through affirmations or through visualization that it's resolved, and through persistence you will be proven correct.

Take a deep breath. It's ok. She loves you, you have a happy healthy relationship. She is kind to you, you are kind to her. You always communicate perfectly. You're both so happy.

Also just general relationship advice:

Remember that relationships are not about fighting each other but working together for a solution. Resolution is reached through empathetic discussion where you both truly consider each other's feelings and talk about how you can accommodate each other in the future.

[orangeytree]

heyy, everything ok??

i just want to ask you something, today i tried to assume something with my girlfriend, we were on a break, we started talking again, she was acting just the way i wanted, but suddenly she stopped and went back with all the thing that happened in our relation, as i saw about, this is something that i'm assumimg. today i tried to assume that she would do certain things, but this didnt happen, when im speaking with her, as she say the things i start to only listen her and my body reacts as the things she say, and my i'm drowned by thoughts opposite as the thoughts that i want to have, and even when i think, no bro thats fine you are in controll of everything, i just cant be calm and assume the things propperly.

so said this i really want to know what to do, i'm kind lost right now, i really want to know what can I do to avoid being like this and enter in the state of fullfilment and just one last thing, i also want know about the time that things are manifestated, is there some cooldown? i control this to?

thank you VERY much by now and i'm sorry if there's some mistakes in my written, english is not my first language kkkkk

Hey, everything good 🤟🏻

I have a personal story that I think will resonate so I’ll use that as an analogy:

A few years back I had a serious girlfriend, I loved her more than anything (at the time lmao) however she started to change. She became cold, secretive, honestly? Abusive. I felt so trapped that I turned to law of assumption. Affirming that she’d text me back. However because my self concept at the time was so poor, our relationship ended up fizzling out completely. (I’m grateful for that though because she was the devil incarnate lmao)

Have you worked on your self concept? EIYPO after all. And since everyone is you pushed out, if you do value yourself less, that is the way she’ll behave around you.

However if this doesn’t resonate then possibly try to really think about your beliefs surrounding the law. Are you stressed over your manifestations? Do you truly believe you are a god? Do you believe you have the power to change your life? If not then work on that first, trust me.

On your last question regarding time until your manifestation materialises: it really doesn’t matter. Once you’ve accepted your desire in 4D, it exists. END OF. Taking the importance away from the 3D really helped me deal with waiting for my manifestations to come to fruition. Know that there’s a version of you with exactly what you want. You just have to accept it as true.

(Your English is great btw!)

[bruhmanbro]

The goddess of childbirth.

I planted these on the beach a couple years ago now

Growing a garden

what? I'm nursing.

This is the garden of eden you cant expect me to be clothed.

Somebody had to drive me around while I'm pregnant with the soul of humanity

I love girls. No really I do. My only real relationship was 6 years with a woman.

We broke up because I just realized I like boys more. For certain things.

Girls are generally more competent though.

Anyways.

The more the merrier imo.

Why get upset when there's more than enough love to go around.

All I know is being judged and rejected by every person I've ever loved.

I always found it strange how love can make people react with anger and sadness.

There's a reason I chose the name Mi$$ G. I'm used to being a mistress that gets shut out.

My love being seen as a destructive force.

Why. It doesn't have to be like that.

Our culture views codependency as love. To possess the heart of another person to the point of controlling their behavior is not love. It's something I've thought about a lot many nights alone at home feeling heartbroken, lonely, and voiceless. Everyone is deserving of love.

Loyalty is a noble quality, so long as it is not blind and does not exclude the higher loyalty to truth and decency.

~ B.H. Liddell Hart

I dont care if the world sees my tits. Why would I be ashamed of my body being a body. No I don't care what my parents think. It's not about them. It's about what I think.

In Europe people go to the beach naked, North American culture is repressed. Who cares honestly. Plus I figured the nerds of the world should know what a set of perfect tits look like. It's called being charitable.

Does it make me a ho? I'm practically a nun. And even if I wasn't, why would that matter? My naked body is innocent. Why is virginity or innocence something that can be "taken away" anyway like a loss of purity? Sexuality is a natural part of being human. It's healthy to be comfortable in your own skin. Why judge a person for that?

What does it mean to be free?

Life is so much simpler when you just don't consider how other people are going to perceive you when making decisions and just do what feels right to you. I express myself in a way that feels authentic to me in alignment with my values and how that makes other people feel is really none of my business. Come as you are and feel no shame or anxiety for what that looks like.

We are all unfolding perfectly in our own time.

What if everything is exactly as it should be? What if it all works out perfect?

~

I dont know what true love is like but those ideas above are some of the ways that I have learned how to properly love myself.

I learned to be my own best friend because I had to. Healing myself alone was excrutiatingly painful. I hope to share my lessons with others in the hopes of saving us all from this type of pain.

What does love feel like to you?

When I look at the magic in those moments i feel like the amount of sheer power of spirit to conspire to manifest these incredible alignments of synchronicities

It must be really important

It must involve everyone

It must be God's plan to save us

Imagine looking in the mirror and seeing a friend

Crazy I know

[kingkatsuki]

Warnings: 18+, virgin Bakugou in his mid-thirties, premature ejaculation, dry humping.

Thinking about virgin Bakugou who finds it so difficult to be around you, frustration evident on his features every time he has to clench his jaw, teeth gnashing together to quell the desire between his thighs. The slightest touches you give him set him off on a whirlwind of emotions, and it’s infuriating, you’re infuriating because he’s never felt like this before.

He’ll never admit the embarrassment that permeates inside him at the fact that he’s well into his thirties and still a virgin. It was something that never troubled him as he grew older, his main focus his career. But now? At his age, knowing that he’s not the best at something, not number one? It was a colossal impact to his pride. Watching all his friends settle down or share stories about their conquests, creating an invisible competition, a battle that Bakugou knew he was unable to win.

Part of him felt like this would be something he would excel in, much like how he did at every other aspect of his life. I mean, if Kaminari Denki was succeeding, then he would easily.

Well, that is until he found you.

Bakugou hated the way his body reacted to you. Your arms circling around his broad shoulders to give him a welcoming hug, up on tiptoes to peck the stubble against the underside of his jaw. Feeling your softer body pressed against his as his cock began to rouse beneath his jeans, an action that he couldn’t control. Immediately hooking his thumbs into his belt loops to try and subtly adjust himself, groaning at the sight of his fat cock tenting the denim. Always ending dates with his boxers soaked with pre, his balls still heavy with cum as he continued to be plagued by thoughts of you.

There was no way he’d be able to handle this. His vermilion eyes catching sight of your plush breasts for the first time, tentatively reaching out to massage them in his warm palms. Cursing under his breath at the sinful whine that left your lips, did you have any idea how hard this was for him? How much he was trying to hold himself back? You were making everything so difficult.

Bakugou could feel the warmth radiating from you, and for a moment he was certain the heat radiating from between your thighs was a temperature that could rival his quirk. An intense burn that had him canting his hips against you, pulling more lewd moans from between your pretty lips. The friction had his lashes fluttering, unable to stop himself from leaning into that sensation. Craving it, his forehead dropping to the curve of your shoulder as he feels you grind against him. Your thighs settled on his hips as you wrapped your legs around him, caging him against you.

“F-fuck,” He stuttered, warm breath fanning against your skin as you rolled your hips into his, feeling the sticky moisture of his pre staining his thigh and catching in the messy hairs at the base of his cock. Causing his boxers to cling to him uncomfortably as the rough denim of his jeans only added to the friction.

“Katsuki,”

Did you have to say his fucking name like that? Like the sweetest choir of angels recorded a symphony just for him, the sound sending a jolt of electricity between his thighs. Grunting he felt himself succumb to the pleasure, eyes rolling as he shamelessly rut his hips into yours, crotch to crotch as he imagined burying himself inside your silky depths for the first time. Knuckles turning white from his grip on the sheets either side of your head as he groaned, spilling his release into his jeans.

The immediate feeling of shame quick to replace euphoria, sitting up from the bed as he pulls himself from your enchanting grip. Cheeks pink as he gives you a heavy set scowl, making to leave the room.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Katsuki.” You hum, and it does nothing to alleviate his frustration. The words only adding to his share as he acknowledges how easy it was for you to have him come undone. How for once, he wasn’t the best.

Your hands slide down your sides so enticingly he couldn’t look away, even if he’d wanted to. Fixated on your movements as you let your fingers slip beneath the thin fabric of your panties, thumbs hooking into the material as you pull them down your thighs slowly. Letting his vermilion eyes see the silvery strings of your slick sticking to the fabric, snapping off into messy lines against your inner thighs. The crotch of your panties dark from the wetness, just like he knew his boxers would be now.

“See?” You gave him a smile as you spread your thighs to show him your naked cunt, your index and middle finger moving to spread yourself apart so he could see everything “You do the exact same to me.”

Bakugou’s cock shamelessly throbbed at the sight, already feeling himself hardening again as the fabric tightened around him once more. Unable to take his eyes off your glistening folds as his tongue slipped out to wet his lips.

And for once, Bakugou felt content with not being the best- especially if it meant leaning with you. Because practise makes perfect, right?

[deathonyourtongue]

Tease

Summary: There’s seldom a good reason to interrupt a workout. But you’ve got a plan... Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader Word Count: 1.9K Warnings: Pure, unadulterated SMMMMMMMMUUUTTTTTTT.  A/N: We’ve all been wrecked by the tree trunks, the ham hocks, the thighs of glory. I just...Yeah, I had to. Sorry not sorry. Also, @fuckoffbard​? This one’s for you, boo! 

You’re not sure what wakes you first; the music coming from the back garden, or Kal’s cold, wet, nose nudging under your chin. Either way, you crack open an eyelid and look around. It’s early enough that the sun is barely peeking over the horizon and you can feel the chill outside without even having to see the light coating of frost on the hedges. 

Sitting up, you reach for your robe, the black floral silk slipping against your skin as you pad over to the window, wondering what Henry’s up to. Kal follows and within moments has his nose plastered against the window, panting happily at seeing his owner outside. Scratching the top of his head absently, you watch Henry do agility drills, happy to see his hamstring not causing any more issues. 

A grunt from Kal reminds you he’s probably hungry and with a pout down at the big ball of fur, you tie your robe and head to the kitchen to fill his bowl. Keeping your eyes on Henry is easy, as the windows that face the back of the property all have their curtains open, allowing a full view of his workout. It’s hard not to stare as he moves, each muscle a fine-tuned piece of machinery, working as one to make him faster and stronger with each workout. 

When he switches from running back and forth across the garden, to running side to side however, it’s all you can do not to drop Kal’s bowl and imitate your furry friend by pressing your nose to the glass. Henry’s always had nice thighs, but as of late, he’s dialed up his work on them; the sight of him laterally shuffling from one side of the garden to the other only amplifies the definition and size of his muscles there, and it only takes seconds before you feel a visceral reaction to what’s just beyond the window. 

With Kal preoccupied, you wander over to the back door, your lower lip caught between your teeth as an impish idea comes to mind. As Henry shuffles back towards the side of the house you’re on, you let your robe slip open, revealing a slice of your side and one of your breasts. You keep your eyes on a bird at the top of the hedge, wanting the whole thing to look accidental. 

It takes everything in you not to laugh when Henry comes to a skidding halt, nearly falling over in his haste to stop. When you’re certain his eyes are on you and only you, you take a seat at the kitchen table, the bench seat perfect for what you have in mind. 

Letting the robe fall open completely, you lean back and spread your legs. Henry’s body language goes slack and still, his eyes laser-focused on you as he moves closer, one step at a time. Your hands sweep your body slowly, spending some time on your breasts before slipping over your stomach and down your own thighs. 

There’s no missing the tenting in his shorts as your fingers move to your mouth before heading further south. Henry’s nearly got his own face pressed to the glass as your fingers slip through your folds, making your own arousal plainly visible as you tease not only Henry, but yourself as well. A soft gasp leaves your lips as you dip your fingers inside, your need growing as you watch Henry’s hips and thighs tense. Mouth slack, it’s easy to see just how much you’re turning him on. You work yourself to the edge then quickly back off, letting the robe fall off your shoulders completely when you get to your feet. The silk trails behind you as you make your way to the master bath, secure in the knowledge that everything is going according to plan.

The sound of the shower is the only hint you give Henry and you have to cover your mouth as you hear a commotion fit for a bull in a china shop seconds after you’ve made yourself comfortable; Henry’s made it inside and is definitely on a mission. 

“You absolute tease!” He growls as he careens into the bathroom, shirt half off and shorts at his knees. You bite your lip to keep from giggling as he struggles out of his sweaty clothes, Henry’s beaming smile making it clear he doesn’t mind his workout being interrupted for the right reasons. Opening the door to the shower, you gesture towards the built-in marble bench, one eyebrow raised in invitation. 

“Says the man wearing short shorts, letting the whole world see those tree trunks you call legs. Sit,” you joke, smiling as you watch him finally rid himself of the last sock before moving under the spray. Though you’ve made yourself plain, you don’t mind waiting as he lets the warm water wash over his well-worked muscles. Your hands slide up his back, eliciting a groan of enjoyment from Henry as he sags a bit under your touch. 

“Sit,” you repeat, kissing between his shoulder blades before gently nudging him in the direction of the bench. He sits with an ear-to-ear smile and an elated sigh, his arms opening almost immediately. Leaning in, you let him envelope you for a deep kiss, keeping your hips a teasing distance away from the part of him you know must be aching for relief. 

“Wha-”

“Shh. Close your eyes. No peeking,” you chirp, pressing kisses down Henry’s abs as you get to your knees. Smoothing your hair back with the water cascading over both of you, you can’t keep the grin off your face if you try. As your hands slide up his rock-solid quads, your lips find the more tender skin of Henry’s inner thigh. 

A breathless laugh escapes Henry as he feels your touch, but the momentary contraction of his muscles immediately releases as you continue to kiss your way slowly up his thigh. Looking up, you’re glad to see he’s not cheating and trying to steal a look; it makes what comes next all the more fun. 

Immediately after kissing the juncture where his thigh meets his hip, you let your tongue drag up the underside of his length, getting the jump you were hoping for. Smiling, you rub his quads with firm pressure, waiting until you feel the muscles go lax once more before continuing on your devious path. As your hands sail up his sides, you finally do what you’ve been wanting to since seeing him out in the garden; in quick succession, you leave a series of nips along his inner thigh.

Henry jolts like someone touched him with a live wire, his hips canting towards the ceiling of their own volition. 

“Biggest tease in the world!” He exhales, blindly trying to find the top of your head even as you move it out of the path of his hand. Smiling, your lips find the oh-so-sensitive spot at the base of his thick length, sucking gently until you feel his breathing pick up sharply. 

Not giving him time to think, you stroke him firmly root to tip as you move back to his inner thigh, biting just a little harder the second time around, your own excitement growing when he lets out a long, low moan, his voice going a touch hoarse at the end. 

“Tell me what you want, babe. Do you want….my mouth? Or would you rather…?” You let the choice linger as you continue tormenting him, your smile unshakable as Henry begins to squirm, his hips thrusting gently through your hand, the desperation for release growing with every stroke you complete.

Henry murmurs his reply, his voice barely audible over the spray of the shower. You continue your ministrations, laving your tongue over the places you’ve nibbled and sucked, wondering if the evidence of your teasing will show come evening; it would certainly be an interesting place for hickies. 

“What was that? I couldn’t quite--OOP!” 

Henry makes his answer abundantly clear as he picks you up off the floor with ease, setting you down in his lap, his blue eyes intense as he locks his gaze with yours. This time, you have no time to react as you’re lifted even higher, Henry’s strong arms holding you exactly where he wants you. Your mouth drops open in shock as you feel his tongue snake inside you, his eyes never leaving yours as he makes sure you’re ready. When he feels you begin to grind, he slowly sets you back down, the movement as controlled as it is effortless for him. You make sure to grind against his cock in retaliation for his surprise feast. 

“WOMAN!” He growls, Henry smirking victoriously as he lifts you once more, this time ensuring he gets a reaction as he takes up every last bit of room you have to offer.

You sink down to the hilt, your eyes rolling back at the delicious sensation of being so utterly filled. The indulgence only lasts a moment however, as Henry sets a demanding pace, bucking up hard enough to bounce you an inch or two off his lap with every thrust.

“Oh my god! Holy shit!” You squeak, holding onto his broad shoulders as you move with him, finding the primal rhythm the two of have had since the very first time.

“Ohh, now who’s getting teased?” Henry jokes, his eyebrows raised in mischief as he purposely slows down, bringing you flush against his chest with one hand while the other guides your hips as it cups your ass.

His lips find yours for a modicum of comfort as he continues the torturous pace, making sure you feel every inch coming and going. You mewl against his mouth, wordlessly begging for sweet release. 

“Want to come, my love?” He asks teasingly between kisses, Henry’s lips moving south until they find your breasts, his hips ever so slowly increasing the pace once more, driving you wild. You can’t help but nod feverishly, moaning softly each time his cock hits that perfect spot inside, making you see stars. 

The hand at your back finds your hair, Henry gathering it in his palm and pulling gently, exposing your neck to his own nips and kisses as he makes sure you grind down each time you find your seat on his thighs. Panting, you feel as though your heart might explode at any moment, but before you can even vocalize how good Henry’s making you feel, the pace switches back to blistering and you’re left to hold on for the ride as Henry’s hands find your shoulders for leverage.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh FUUUCCK!!” You scream. The friction, combined with the angle, makes the world come off its axis and every thought empty from your mind as you explode around Henry’s massive length. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he hisses, bouncing you just a little more before pulling you flush once again, his body stiff as he begins to spill inside you. 

Completely wrecked, you can only cling to his biceps as your own orgasm continues to wreak havoc, spurned on by the feeling of Henry filling you to the brim. 

You’re not sure which one of you turns off the shower, but looking at your fingers, you can’t help but crack a dazed smile, seeing each one more pruned than the one before it. You dread getting off Henry’s lap, but before you can even muster the coordination to move, you’re encased in his arms again, Henry standing and padding out of the shower, still fully sheathed inside you. 

“Did I tell you I had the day off, love? Actions have consequences, and, well...We’ve only just begun.” 

You can’t stop yourself from reaching down and smacking Henry’s ass with a still-wet hand, knowing full well your teasing will be matched...again and again and again.

[angstyaches]

For that ask game: ice cream, thermometer, greasy spoon, and hiccups for Shayne, Charlie, and Blake (I love Blake btw. Can't wait to see more of him)

Thank you!! And I'm so excited to hear that you like Blake so far. I've got lots of angsty plans for him.

Note: I have done this game before and it's possible I've answered some of these for Shayne and Charlie already, so if anybody finds doubles and they don't correspond, feel free to send me a link and tell me to fix it lmao)

Ask Game

Shayne:

ice cream: are there any foods your character cant eat?

In the earlier parts of the story, it's thought that Shayne might be lactose intolerant, so he generally avoids dairy, but it's not catastrophic if he doesn't; he just has a generically weak stomach that isn't particularly sensitive to one thing more than another.

thermometer: how do fevers effect your character’s stomach?

Fevers will generally give him a dull, sluggish kind of ache in his stomach, keeping him just nauseous enough that he can't relax without causing him to vomit.

greasy spoon: how does your character’s stomach react to junk food?

He generally starts to feel full pretty quickly once he starts eating, but this happens even faster when he's eating heavy or greasy food. His stomach also gets a little noisier than usual while trying to digest it. He won't be able to tell if he's hungry again, or just nauseous, for... quite a while.

hiccups: does your character get burpy/gassy/hiccupy when they eat too much?

One of the benefits of how slowly he eats is that he avoids getting too gassy from eating. However, he has a lot less control when it comes to fizzy drinks/sodas, and more often than not ends up with a case of deep, hollow burps, or a very rumbly stomach ache.

Charlie:

ice cream: are there any foods your character cant eat?

I’ve been thinking, and I actually don’t believe there are! The only reasons Charlie might avoid certain food would be because he doesn’t like the taste, or because it takes too long to prepare (especially during his college years, he starts to see cooking as a waste of time).

thermometer: how do fevers effect your character’s stomach?

Charlie's head and his stomach are very much in sync with one another, so as soon as a fever starts to make him dizzy or light-headed, you can be sure that he's busy locating the nearest bathroom or bucket.

greasy spoon: how does your character’s stomach react to junk food?

His stomach would react absolutely fine to it, no problem... if Charlie had any ounce of self-control when it comes to junk food. Charlie is an emotional eater, so if he's even a little bit stressed and there are snacks available, it's basically guaranteed that he's going to keep picking at them until it's too late. This can end in two different ways - a long-drawn-out belly ache that feels like a ton of cement in his gut, or some very sudden and urgent nausea.

hiccups: does your character get burpy/gassy/hiccupy when they eat too much?

Sometimes! But as I so love to point out (because I think it’s so adorable), he gets gassy and hiccupy when he’s hungry. Food is usually what calms it down, and doesn’t really cause him to get burpy again unless he eats incredibly fast.

Blake:

ice cream: are there any foods your character cant eat?

He doesn’t like to admit it to anyone, but his stomach is quite delicate to anything overly rich or spicy. Not to the point where it’ll make him sick, but leave him with a pretty distracting stomach ache.

thermometer: how do fevers effect your character’s stomach?

It doesn’t take much for Blake’s body to turn on him, so the first stirrings of a fever would already be throwing his digestion into chaos. He’d have no appetite, and anything already in his stomach would have a hard time staying down.

greasy spoon: how does your character’s stomach react to junk food?

He’s not very used to eating junk food; he grew up eating relatively healthy, fresh meals prepared by his stepmother, and his father was strict about them not ordering takeaways or eating at fast food places, so junk food doesn’t tend to sit with him very well nowadays. However, he loves the taste of it, plus the feeling of defiance it gives him, so the potential pain and nausea don’t tend to stop him from indulging in it when he can.

hiccups: does your character get burpy/gassy/hiccupy when they eat too much?

Yes, and he is fairly, um, forthcoming with his burps, priding himself on not really giving a shit if (almost) anybody thinks that he’s disgusting or annoying (he’s fairly sure most people wouldn’t like him anyway, even if he was polite). The hiccups, on the other hand, he’ll do his best to suppress, as he feels they’re a bit more childish and embarrassing.

[harrypotterximagines]

ANON: hey angel, I was wondering if you could write a smut for Neville involving him and a fem!reader losing their virginities together, and he’s super nervous and shy and reassuring, and totally overwhelmed by everything he feels cuz he’s honoured she loves him enough to let him touch her and omg just supersuper sweet Neville PLEASE 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

_________________________________________________________

The air was heavy as soon as you opened your eyes. A certain feeling inside of you was churning, a thousand small butterflies fluttering around your heart. You felt like glass, ready to shatter; and the best part was, you were ready to break.

The way how Neville slept alongside you, wool blanket dragged to the tip of his nose, securing himself with warm overwhelmed you. His peaceful body laid limp, unaware you were watching his doze. It’s true when one says that words cant describe the immense amount of love you feel for him. Your body felt baptized whenever you caught a glimpse of your soulmate. It was a connection you assumed you were never going to reach.

Taking your eyes off Neville, you swung your legs alongside the bed, hoisting yourself up and getting ready for the day. Each step you took, each corner you passed, your mind couldn’t leave him. It seemed that whatever was in the air wasn’t just speculation but rather a bug. The bite of love’s grace stung you extra hard this morning, warmth and serenity filling your veins like liquid gold. 

Squeezing the bathroom counter and letting the coldness of the marble cool your body, your wide smile reflected back at you. Moments like these, when you have a chance to step back and reflect on all your privileges, dating Neville was more than a personal achievement. You realized that it wasn’t the art of bragging to your friends you had someone that treated you like a Middlemist Red flower but instead it was privilege of getting to call Neville yours.

If luck was genuine and true, despite its sharp fangs filled with venom to strike at those who are disadvantaged, you sneaked past that poisonous peril. Taking a shaky breath and biting back tears of joy, you followed up on your daily morning routine. Although distractions like brewing coffee and choosing which mugs you’d both be drinking out of this morning, Neville couldn’t leave your mind.

The passion that radiated off from you almost made Neville seem phantom-like as he appeared into the kitchen, the sun glowing off his soft skin. His eyes brightened at your beauty, floating closer to you. You were utterly entranced by his power, only breaking out of your gaze by his command. His strong hand placed on the small of your back, tugging you close and kissing you sweetly.

He whispered good morning in your ear, his voice raspy and deep. The lovesickness whirled back into your heart once more and you realized it just wasn’t his love you craved, but the entirety of his whole. You swallowed hard, your train of thought heading off to a destination of overwhelming overthinking. Admittedly, you’ve both never done anything beyond the level of intensely making out. However, you felt ready to fully share your soul with his.

You turned your head to Neville as he yawned into his arm, staring at the coffee pot as it slowly and painfully processed the beans. You took one step closer to him, watching carefully, seeing if he would react to your odd behavior. Then another step. And another. Suddenly his arms were around your waist, your mouth going directly onto his.

At this moment, when the sun dyed his hair a shade lighter, made his eyes brighter, and his aura bewitching, your glass body shattered. You fell limp in his arms, his strength picking pinning you against the kitchen counter to support and hold you close. Your greedy mouth stole kisses at every breath you regrettably took, not wanting to waste a single moment.

Neville looked down at you, an eyebrow raised out of amusement but confusion. His face was hard to read, his smile a mask for his true feelings. You didn’t know what was the best way to flat out say you wanted him in more ways then one, but somehow the words managed to escape your lips:

“I’m ready, Neville,” You breathlessly said.

Understanding completely with your simple request, Neville hoisted you off the counter and brought you back to your place of rest. Heart and mind, you’re connected as one. Now it’s time to complete this unity and share the pleasures the body had to give. 

Neville slowly placed you back down onto the mattress, his body barely hovering above yours. His hands were stiff and uncertain, afraid of making one wrong move and destroying a moment that’s going to remain a permanent burn in his mid. The last thing he’d want to do is go up in flames and not walk through them.

His cheeks began to rise a light pink as cold fingers poked his sides. His crimson white sleeping shirt rose above his head, kisses peppering his stomach as you began to undress him first. His shyness overwhelmed you, finding it sweet that he cared enough to react in such a way.

Once his shirt was tossed to the ground, his eyes widened as he realized he had to return the favor. Slowly, his fingers began to line up with the hem of your shirt. You felt his fingernails lightly drag across the skin of your stomach as the soft cloth exposed more of your body. He stopped right before the under of your breast, hesitating. His eyes looked down at yours, waiting for the signal of approval before he could advance any further.

When he received the sign of approval, his lips began to kiss the skin that was shown. His delicate mouth grazed upon your flesh, worshipping your body. He kissed in between your breasts as the shirt tugged above and over your head, his hands falling to his pajama pants. With more eagerness to comply, he found himself naked before you. 

He let out an airy laugh, his nervousness encapsulating his being. However, he embraced it because he knew by the look on your face that read fearful content matched his own. He was overwhelmed by the amount of emotion he was undergoing and wanted your first time to be as sweet as one would hope.

He didn’t want to rush into things or scare you off, so when he tugged the blanket above his hips to hide the view of his private self, he was shocked when you pushed it back down.

You shook your head, smiling wide. “I want to see you, Neville,” You whispered, reassuring him on his insecurities and doubts. 

“And I can’t wait to see you,” He whispered back, although you found that he took his time taking off your bottom half.

You giggled as he took in a deep breath while interlocking his fingers with your panties, unlocking the invisible chastity belt you once wore. Neville looked down at you as he found his hands gripping onto yours. He lightly squeezed your hands as his lips kissed your neck, whispering into your ear about how much he loves you.

He reminded you that every part of him belonged to you. He told you that it wasn’t just fate that brought you both close but the destiny of promising past lives and future reincarnations that set in stone your souls connection.

With one final promising declaration of love and loyalty, his thickness buried deep inside you. Overwhelmed, you were the one to draw in a sharp breath this time, leaving him chuckling instead. His fingers interlocked with yours as he immediately told you that you were doing great even though he had no prior experience. 

His nose nuzzled with yours as he slowly began to gyrate his hips, getting you comfortable and settled. He whispered low that if you wanted to stop, he immediately would pull out but you refused. You knew the moment was right and you didn’t want to have it any other way. 

Neville encouraged you and put the spotlight of positive reinforcement and support directly onto you. He kissed you every time he pushed in, calling you a beauty beyond belief. 

He stiffened when you moaned his name for the first time, overwhelmed once more. He slightly whined at how much he craved you, utterly in love with the way you knew how to tempt him. He found himself calling your name too, a feeble whisper in your ear. A mixture of raspiness and lust filled your senses. 

His hands never left yours as his progression enhanced and he took full control, a gentle yet dominant movement he favored for your first time. You found yourself becoming increasingly comfortable and soon enough, the two of you released yourselves to each other.

Neville was panting by the time he came, his heart rapidly beating inside his chest. Your heartbeat followed a similar pattern, yet another connection the two of you fatefully shared. He laid on top of your for a silent minute, absorbing and soaking in the moment. He left out laugh which you proceeded to follow, the air banished from the heaviness you felt earlier that day, replacing itself with light and love.

Neville nestled himself close to your side, kissing your cheek, shutting his eyes. You stared up at the ceiling, regret never coming at all. You smiled to yourself, happy you found a partner for life.

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Hopelessness of Wanting [Part 4]

<- Part 3

Frederick Chilton x Reader 

Warnings: NSFW. 18+ only! Suicidal thoughts. Nonconsensual blowjob, dubcon smut with reader (gender-neutral). None of the smut in this chapter is healthy! Two messed up people falling in love, only one is a lot more abusive than the other (Chilton. It’s Chilton). Reader is not in the healthiest of mind states to interpret their relationship. Everyone more or less gets what they deserve by the end.

6,400 words

Red morning light flooded into the bedroom through expansive panoramic windows that gave a spectacular view over the bay. Dr. Chilton—no, Frederick—was still beside you, rolled onto his back, snoring lightly. The bed was warm and smelled like him. A spicy, timeless fragrance. Expensive and a little off-putting at first whiff, until it melted into something complex and beautiful.

You felt hollow. Numb. Like you could float away or sink to the bottom of the ocean and never claw your way back out again. But calmer, at least. The impulse to hurt yourself was gone.

The negativity that had been devouring you from within had been washed away by a flood of tears and joy—crying until your eyes burned and your throat was hoarse, fucking your boss, going home with him, and then falling asleep crying again while he held you.

This morning, you had nothing left except static.

And there was Frederick Chilton, asleep beside you like a dreaming titan—the silhouette of his body beautiful and ominous. You resisted the urge to cuddle up next to him. He reacted badly to being touched without warning, and besides, you dreaded waking him up. What if he wasn’t happy? What if everything from last night was a mistake?

It all seemed surreal. That he had wanted you all along was too good to be true. Now that he had you, you were certain to be a disappointment. Your chest heaved unexpectedly, and you bit back a fresh sob. Suddenly your face was wet again.

Your nerves were so raw.

The peaceful static buzzing through your mind was fragile. Any sudden movement or loud thought might set you spiraling back down that hole again. You’re just going to screw this up, just like you screw everything up. Maybe it would have been better if you’d just gone through with it—saved everyone the inevitable heartache.

But if you had gone through with it, you never would have found out that Frederick returned your feelings. That knowledge—that something wonderful happened after your planned date of expiration—was reason enough not to try again. Sometimes good things happened. Things could change. Things could get better, and you could be happy again. You had to believe that.

So you moved slowly, and thought quietly. You listened to Frederick’s breathing in and out, and remained wrapped in the warm cocoon of blankets.

***

On the spectrum of touch aversion, Frederick Chilton was hardly a dramatic case. There was a Mr. Walton in his custody at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane who was imprisoned for murdering his four-year-old daughter because she would not stop hugging his calves as he walked by. Restraining the man for treatment required four muscular orderlies prepared for him to kick and bite at the slightest grazing of his skin.

That was touch aversion. Dr. Chilton considered himself perfectly normal by comparison.

He was able to shake hands with an acquaintance, hug a close friend or relative when social normalcy dictated he offer one, and even engage in sexual intercourse when his libido overrode his discomfort. As a man with a very high libido and next to no dating life, sex won out at every opportunity.

Yesterday, the hasty, frantic encounter with you in the medicine storage closet had been almost fully clothed. His hands explored your body as he rutted into you, but yours were braced against the tile wall, passive.

It was impersonal, and he was in control.

This morning, he awoke wrapped in the warmth of your body heat after you spent the night in his bed. In his home. He fell asleep watching you and awoke to you watching him thrashing out of a nightmare, your eyes full of so much emasculating pity that he lunged forward at once to kiss the look off your face.

Fuck—he did not know what he was thinking. A muffled noise of surprise escaped your crushed lips and then melted into a moan as you reciprocated. You opened compliantly to allow his tongue entrance. He meant to bully away your perception of his weakness with the aggressive kiss—he had not expected you to coil your fingers deep into his hair and pull him closer. Your leg pushed between his, and as he pulled back, panting, you quickly closed the gap and kissed him again.

Your bright floral scent was everywhere, surrounding him, invading the familiarity of his sheets. Your hands were pulling at him, softly caressing up and down his back.

It was intimate.

And he was terrified.

You saw him freezing up, and your hands stopped grabbing at him. Some of his tension evaporated as soon as you gave him space. A worried smile thinned your lips.

“Sorry. I forgot,” you murmured. “Is this better?”

You remembered. This was usually where his bedmate would call him too cold, or roll their eyes in annoyance. There was the usual guilt trip: if he was attracted to them, he would want to be crowded with physical affection. But you asked if he wanted to stop—asked him what he needed. No one had ever done that for him before.

“I am fine,” he swore to your skeptical frown, and it almost wasn’t a lie.

Knowing that you would stop put him at ease. The sunny persona you used at work may have been a forgery, but your gentle kindness was not. With you, he almost was fine.

He kissed you again, this time as tenderly as he had while you were sleeping. Felt you breathe in as his lips met yours, and then melt into him as you breathed out. He caressed your hair, and when your eyes opened again, taking him in, his heart felt full.

***

As a general rule of thumb, it is not a good idea to fuck your boss. This rule goes double when you are in the middle of a mental health crisis, and increases geometrically when said crisis was precipitated by your boss’s callous, condescending, cruel behavior in the first place. Or—that is to say—when your boss is Dr. Frederick Chilton.

But when you wake up in your boss’s bed having already fucked him, he pushes his tongue into your mouth, and the twitching of his erection against your thigh makes you feel alive again, you might as well accept you’re in too deep and go for it.

Dr. Chilton’s cock was already slipping through the open fly of his pajamas, and your hand helped it the rest of the way out. You licked your lips, imagining the weight of him on your tongue, his salty taste filling your mouth. Bracing a hand on one of his thighs, you lowered yourself to the pink dome.

“N-no,” Frederick stammered. “You do not have to do that.”

“I want to,” you hummed, a seductive rumble to your voice.

The corner of his mouth twitched upward once in appreciation for your willingness, but his eyes kept a haunted dullness that told you there was more behind his refusal than politeness. There was a story there, and you knew better than to push it.

You couldn’t have known it was his conscience intruding.

Taking control, he pushed you back down onto the mattress. The sound of lube squeezing from a bottle shortly preceded a cold slickness spread between your legs. You reached for him instinctively, trying to make it romantic, but he pinned your hands down by your side. The crown of his cock pushed against your tight entrance, which burned at the penetration it was unprepared for. It was cold, rushed—but as he canted his hips forward, his fingers laced through yours.

“Oh god,” he moaned as if he were kneeling in prayer, whispering his sins in confession—guttural, yet barely a breath.

You grit your teeth to cage the pained cry that leaped in your throat, stifling it into what passed for a whimper of pleasure. The stretch of his unceremonious insertion was the punishment you deserved for being so dramatic and causing so much trouble yesterday. For making him bring you home, worry about you, feel like he had to take care of you. For being weak. For all the incompetent mistakes. You didn’t complain that your body screamed in protest at being forced open too fast by such a large implement. It wasn’t that bad, and the sensation was mixed with pleasure. Satisfaction of seeing the handsome doctor’s face contorting with lust warmed your stomach, and soon your body relaxed around his cock, warmth pooling and coiling in your lower back.

Chilton’s first thrusts were controlled, experimental, rocking forward by slow inches and then retreating until the crest of his cockhead was barely hanging on to the tight rim of your opening. Then he rocked forward again while his analytical green eyes studied your reaction.

After a few of these slow strokes, the pain was gone. Perhaps he had been cognizant of it, waiting until you were letting out soft moans, your pelvis tilting to meet his, before continuing. Then his leg muscles tightened, and his next thrust slammed his hips into yours, filling you completely. You cried out in unison—his a satisfied growl, and yours a wail like you’d been punched in the gut but got off on it.

He lost his thin facade of control after that, rutting into you with force, pressing sloppy wet kisses over your mouth, down your neck. Your fingers clenched his tightly, your knuckles turning white, and he gripped back just as hard. He only slowed to arch his back so he could tease your nipples into hardened peaks with his tongue, releasing new yelps and whimpers from your throat. A possessive bite drew a more resounding cry of pleasure and a dark bruise.

The only thing restrained about his performance was his voice. After his first shout of pleasure, he grew silent except for a few strained noises that told you how hard he was working to strangle back the others. You wondered what wild howls Dr. Chilton hid within him.

“I want to hear you,” you panted.

His face was a mask of effort, already covered in a sheen of sweat that betrayed his poor physical shape. He stared down at you like an enemy soldier in a trench—a spy picking at his weaknesses—and gave no reply.

A strange sort of bravery born of lust came over you. “I want to hear it when you come inside me,” you challenged.

The rhythmic motion of his hips stuttered, and a moan slipped past his defenses as if by your command.

“That’s good,” you purred. “That’s a good boy.”

Something shifted in his suspicious eyes at your praise. A wall came down. “Yes,” he rasped. “You want to hear it—” his voice was punctuated by a powerful snap of his hips and a wet sound of flesh “—when I fill you with my seed.”

“Fuck—yes. Please. Fill me, come inside me!” your voice shook as you moaned your assent. You were so hollow. You needed him—needed him to fill that emptiness inside. Needed his thick cock splitting you open, punishing you, claiming you.

“When I make you mine.” His eyes were wild, almost frightening in their focus upon you—perfect green tunnels into a soul as volatile as yours. He pounded into you deeper.

And he was loud. He had been loud yesterday when he took you fast and hard against the wall, but that encounter was a blur in your memory. Now his voice was the only music filling your head, replacing the static. He spoke continually in filthy promises and eloquent details of what he wanted to do to you, but his words were punctuated by inarticulate grunts and moans. An aching need built with each primal noise that was so unlike the repressed, cynical Dr. Chilton you knew at work.

Every trembling declaration of your name, every prayer to god that passed his lips sent a shock of arousal to your core, and when he half-begged, half-demanded, “Mine… you are mine,” you couldn’t help but agree.

“Yours!”

You were close, all of your senses lost to an overwhelming need. Chilton released one of your hands and slipped between your legs. Every nerve in your body came alive as he stroked you. Your back arched as you went rigid beneath him, crying out.

His head fell against your shoulder, hips bucking wildly, and he sobbed, “Oh god… yes… yes. Mine… mine… mmm—!”

He shuddered as his warmth flooded you. Though his hand became lazy as his own climax overtook him, you eked out an orgasm from the friction between your bodies. It was enough. Enough to leave a slippery mess on his bedsheets, and enough for the resulting crash.

Your emotional high popped like a soap bubble and left you just as hollow—somehow emptier than before—even with Dr. Chilton’s cock still inside you and his seed filling you. You felt wrong. Guilt churned in the place arousal had been occupying. You almost started to weep as he pulled out of you.

Chilton didn’t seem to notice, glowing with the opposite effect of his completion. He ducked between your legs, grabbed your thighs, and began sucking your overstimulated flesh with renewed enthusiasm.

“Ah! W-wait,” you squirmed in his grasp, but it was firm. “What are you doing? I-I already came!”

The sloppy wet noises paused. His chin was soaked and he took sadistic delight in your distraught whimpers. “Therapy,” he smirked. “I have a theory you have another one in you, and that it will benefit your health.”

“What if I can’t?”

“Be a good little subject for me and try,” he answered, “or we shall be here a long time.” Then he buried his face between your thighs.

It felt sickening at first, like swallowing a cup of sugar—too much of something good that becomes painful. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as his tongue worked mercilessly. Then his fingers pumped inside you, his slick cum serving as a lubricant, and that aching need began to return. Choked cries of misery dissolved into ones of pleasure. He didn’t stop until you came again in his mouth, legs quivering and bruised under his grip. This one was more powerful than the first—you could feel it through your entire body, in every limb, and when it finally passed and his mouth popped wetly off of you, your body was too leaden to move.

Chilton smiled, quite satisfied with himself, licking your release off his lips.

***

Work was less stressful when you returned to it on Monday. Dr. Chilton was suddenly understanding of your mistakes. Though you were terrified he would decide he was wrong about you—you were too much of an idiot and failure for a relationship—things at least improved to the point that you could pretend to be cheerful again. Fake it until you make it was your mantra.

Everyone could tell something had changed.

Shifts were rationed out fairly without the express aim of frustrating employees. Patients received actual treatment. Dr. Chilton’s mood was so much less spiteful that a new hire unironically called him nice.

“He must be getting laid,” was the rumor around the hospital, though no one could decide who in their right mind would sleep with him. Your grin dropped at an orderly’s suggestion it was a prostitute.

You were gathering up your keys and jacket from your personal locker in the staff room when the sound of expensive leather shoes clicking on the stone floor signaled the doctor’s approach. It no longer made you flinch.

Chilton glanced in from the hallway and, seeing you were not alone, politely said, “Good work today,” and continued on, his step lighter than usual.

“You didn’t,” Nurse Clerval said flatly.

“What?”

“You didn’t,” they repeated. A raised eyebrow caused worry wrinkles to erupt beneath a hairline steadily turning grey.

“Of course not!”

“Then what is all this about?”

Your entire body was shifted in the direction Dr. Chilton had gone as if straining to follow, and a tell-tale smile shaped your lips into a fawning curve. Oh, you were so busted.

“We happened to talk the other day, that’s all. In private.”

“How private?” Another brow raise.

Your cheeks burned. “It’s not like that! He’s shy. When we talked one-on-one, it turns out we get along. He apologized for always singling me out, and he’s just trying to be more supportive. As a management style.”

Clerval stared at you hard. Your chest puffed out, really proud of that lie. The older nurse had seen enough within the hospital walls to know the administrator suddenly adopting a kinder, gentler management style was horseshit. But their jaded heart had not lost all compassion. A young nurse caught fucking the boss would get ripped to pieces by the gossip mill in this vicious place.

“OK. Fine,” they surrendered. “Just don’t go around making googly eyes, or people will get the wrong idea.”

***

A timid knock sounded on Dr. Chilton’s door, although it was still open from his last meeting—a junior psychiatrist who hurried out fuming and near tears. Perhaps that was why the next appointment was hesitant to come in.

He looked up from his computer, and the crankiness entrenched in his bones shook off at the sight of your face. You were his eighth performance evaluation that day, somewhere in the middle of the pack, and he’d lost track. Now his demeanor shifted, and he did something he hadn’t done for the others by rising from his desk to greet you.

“Close the door, if you would,” he said before you got too far into the room.

The latch clicked shut.

You were nervous. Though you had been dating for months, you remained distant during the workweek to avoid scandal—if news of a relationship got back to the board, you might be transferred to another hospital. Alone in his office, it was unclear whether Dr. Chilton was your boss or your boyfriend. Letting you dangle in suspense sent a thrill of excitement up his spine.

“Take a seat. Let’s get started, shall we?” he said, sitting back down behind his computer.

His massive desk was known as “the moat” by his staff, and it created an impersonal distance between you. He eyeballed you from across the moat, tapping his fingers together as he sank into his tall-backed leather chair. You sat on a small wooden chair, feeling very much like a specimen, and focused on the space between his eyes.

“You have been late five times this year and had to have an ID card replaced,” he said in clipped syllables, launching right into the review with one “needs improvement” after another.

Your stomach twisted into a familiar knot, but you managed not to spiral into an attack of self-loathing and anxiety. If you were going to cry, you could hold it until later.

Talking to someone helped.

Even Chilton admitted it was unethical for your boyfriend to be your therapist, and recommended you to someone with more expertise. You had been seeing Dr. Bloom for three months, and the dark fog was slowly receding. She taught you how to beat it back. Finding another job, for example, was not an outrageous, impossible idea if your current one was making you miserable. And most of your mistakes were no worse than the mistakes of your coworkers whom you very much wanted to keep living. She started you on a bupropion prescription that helped stabilize your moods, and you found yourself able to focus better because of it, too.

It also helped not being bullied at work every day.

The more your self-esteem improved over the months, the more you came to resent the shameful way Frederick used to treat you. Yet, as those same months went by, his actions drifted further into the territory of Past Frederick. That man was a stranger now—you could hardly hold Present Frederick accountable for his actions. Present Frederick was attentive and warm, always surprising you with lavish meals from Baltimore’s finest restaurants, spa days, and quiet nights at home. And as your boss, he was aloof but polite whenever he had cause to speak with you.

Why was he acting so cold now?

Dr. Chilton’s green eyes bore into you over the top his computer screen. “Tsk tsk… I am afraid your performance has not been exceptional, nurse. Perhaps there is something you can do to improve what goes into my report…” A thin lecherous smile spread over his lips.

You weren’t sure what he meant until he beckoned you to his side of the moat, and his hand slid under your shirt.

“What are you willing to do for a better evaluation, my little pet?” He winked mischievously, a hint of playfulness lighting his eyes, though his desire was deadly serious.

“We said never at work.”

“Yes, but now we have reason to be locked in my office, alone. Nothing that would raise suspicion. You are all mine for the next twenty minutes.”

A gasp rushed from your lips as his fingers expertly found a nipple and pinched. Your skin prickled with need.

“In that case, doctor… what will it take? I’ll do anything!” You added a desperate tremble to your voice as you got into the role he wanted you to play.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to bend you over this desk?” Frederick growled with lust, his breath hot in your ear as he grabbed your arms and spun you to face it. It had been a fantasy for far longer than you had been dating. His erection pressed against your ass.

You twisted your neck to catch the side of his mouth in a sloppy kiss. He smirked against your tongue before shoving you down.

The flat of his hand trailed up your back, fingers splaying between your shoulder blades to push your cheek into the polished mahogany.

“Good… very good,” he said. His breath shook with excitement.

Pulling your scrubs down, he rubbed the thickness of his cock over your opening. You shuddered at the cold sensation of lubricant and moaned as he reached between your thighs to stroke you.

“You are always ready for me to take you whenever I want it. To do anything I ask. It is my favorite thing about you—did you know that, my needy little pet?”

His hips rocked, the blunt head of his cock circling, pushing at your tightness. You let out a strangled whimper that almost sounded like a, “Yes, Doctor Chilton.”

“Be quiet now, remember,” he chided as his strong fingers dug into your hips and drew them against his in one fluid motion.

A gasp erupted from your throat—you fought to comply as he stretched you open, biting down on your fist. You were so tight around his cock, but it was the rush of power that drove him into a frenzy. He felt so in control, gripping your hips as he pounded you against his large desk. The desk was his own furnishing, and he was proud of how substantial it was—too heavy to scrape across the floor even as he fucked you. No creaking to indicate cheap construction. The height of refinement. Silent. No one would know what was happening just behind the closed door of his office—his domain. He had control here. It was something he was desperate for after two near-fatal attacks left him weakened and helpless, and his office was one of the few places he could exert his will absolutely. His office was his safety. And you. You completed it.

“You’re mine,” he grunted. “So submissive for me, bent over… God, yes—”

The one thing Dr. Chilton desired in life more than control was to be adored, and you adored him. The most pleasant ray of sunshine to grace the BSHCI was secretly broken like him. Was secretly his. All his. He had everything he wanted—your obedience, your affection, your strangled cries as you fought to stay quiet, your body writhing in pleasure beneath him—

He shuddered and came.

He finished sooner than he intended, and awareness of being old and weak came flooding back as his release dripped out around his cock and dribbled down your thighs. Fuck. He fucked it all up. But you turned and wrapped your arms around him anyway, kissed him like you weren’t even disappointed, and made him forget he wasn’t good enough. God, he could get lost in you.

Every day, he was a little less self-conscious. More comfortable having you close. He learned to trust you.

After a life of suffering, you were his happy ending.

***

“I love you.”

You hadn’t said it yet, but you were going to today.

Frederick Chilton’s hand was always in yours wherever you went—under the dinner table, on your thigh in the car, on the couch while the other hand typed away on a laptop. Soon he wouldn’t be able to hide his affection at work. You already caught him nearly slipping up and calling you “pet” in front of another nurse. It wouldn’t be long before it all came out. And it would be alright.

You were already looking at jobs at other hospitals in Baltimore. Most even came with a pay increase. Then when your relationship went public, there would be no scandal, no dating your boss, just the two of you together. A real couple. He was going to invite you to move in with him so you could still see each other every day—you were sure of it. The thought sent thrills of goosebumps tingling up your arms.

For once, when you looked to the future, you saw something bright.

“Hey Clerval, have you seen Dr. Chilton? I tried his office, but…”

The old nurse sighed heavily. Swinging their feet off the breakroom table, they set aside the yogurt cup they were halfway through and gave you a tired look. You hadn’t exactly told Clerval about your secret relationship, but they knew, and so far, no one else did. Not that they approved. In fact, you had never seen Clerval so worn down as when the topic of you and Dr. Chilton came up.

“His schedule says he’s in his office, which means he’s probably in one of his ‘unorthodox therapy’ sessions.”

Your head cocked. “His what?”

Clerval pinched the bridge of their nose, giving yet another sigh at your naivety. (At this rate, they were going to run out of air.) “Experimental procedures. Things the good doctor doesn’t want on record.”

There was a bitter bite to their words, yet at the same time, resignation. This hospital sucked the soul out of everyone who entered it, and Henry Clerval had been a nurse here longer than anyone. Longer than Frederick Chilton had been a doctor.

“Oh,” you said. “Well,” you scuffed the white rubber sole of your sneaker on the stone floor. “I’m sure he has a good reason.”

“I always see those hypnotherapy lights flashing around Ward A when no one is scheduled for therapy. Try there,” Clerval suggested with defeat.

“Thank you!” you called, sneakers already running down the hall in the direction of the women’s ward.

“Are you sure you want to interrupt his session?”

“I want to surprise him! I’ve got something important to say!”

***

If anyone had been outside women’s wing cell 4B on any Wednesday around noon, they would have heard a wet choking sound, but the staff was too jaded to care. If the guards had any idea what was happening, they got off on it, and didn’t try to stop it.

“Am I good girl, daddy?”

“Yes… yes,” Dr. Chilton hissed between his teeth, biting his lower lip to keep his breath from exploding out in a tortured moan. “A good girl.”

It was an accident the first time a hypnotherapy session regressed Julianne back to a sexually abusive childhood. She grabbed for his belt, and he froze. He almost yelped out in terror and called for a guard, but then she had his cock in her warm, wet mouth, sucking it to fullness, and moaning for him (or rather, for the memory of the father and brother she eventually murdered).

This wasn’t therapy.

When you became a soft part of his life, he stopped trying to justify his actions as anything other than more exploitation in her long life of being exploited. He let it happen because he was lonely, and he continued doing it because he did not care who else got hurt. There were no possible therapeutic benefits for the patient. He himself noted an exacerbation of dissociative symptoms, if there was ever any doubt that he was not thinking of her care. He only wanted a warm mouth to service him, even if it was not the one he longed for.

Then you became more than a daydream, and he recognized how deeply he hated himself. Because he had you—not only your body, but your heart.

But he never stopped.

Every week, like clockwork, he continued the hypnotherapy sessions and left Julianne confused with the bitter taste of his ejaculation in her throat.

You could have been his happy ending.

It wasn’t too late. You filled his lonesome days with affection and understanding he never thought possible. You taught him that he wasn’t too old and broken to love. In forty-five miserable years, he hadn’t ruined things so badly he could never find happiness.

You could have been his epilogue if he only loved you as well as you loved him.

It was not your fault what happened next.

But of course, of all the nurses and orderlies, doctors and guards in the BSHCI, you were the only one kind enough to want to surprise him with lunch. The only one who would have a sinking feeling about the rhythmic squelching coming from cell 4B. Anyone else would have said it was someone else’s business and walked away before seeing something that might obligate them to fill out paperwork.

You were too kind for this place. Too kind for the scarred doctor whose heart died a long time ago.

He watched your eyes widen from the other side of the bars. Saw your face turn from confused to nauseous, then crumple into tears as an involuntary groan escaped his lips—Julianne kept sucking at an unwelcome, now painful pace.

Then you turned and ran.

Julianne never stopped until he finished, though he was no longer in the mood. He never touched her, but he tried to back up, wanted to run after you. She stayed with him. This time he broke his rule and placed a hand to her forehead to push her away. Grasping his thighs, she hollowed her cheeks and sucked harder. Blood hammered in his ears. If he ripped her away, she could become violent or wake from the hypnosis, and he did not know how much was she aware was real. What her reaction might be. She was surprisingly strong as she held on, teeth grazing threateningly along his shaft the more he struggled.

She never stopped until he finished.

He was trapped.

He whimpered, cock going soft even as she bobbed faster. He tried to close his eyes and think about you, but that was ruined. You were gone forever. There was nothing he could say to explain himself, unless he drugged you with the right cocktail of psychotropics to make you suggestible, your memory malleable…

Solutions he knew would never work raced through his mind as the throbbing between his legs became an agonizing burn devoid of pleasure.

Panic rose and tightened his chest.

***

An anonymous call was made to the board of the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. The subsequent investigation found “no conclusive evidence” of Dr. Chilton’s alleged breach of ethics, owing not to the lack of such evidence existing, but the board’s desire to sweep the incident under the rug. He was, however, summarily fired and replaced by Dr. Alana Bloom. A forward-thinking move—if the truth ever came out, the hospital would have a friendly feminist face for public relations.

He never went to jail. Never got what he deserved.

Within a month, his book Hannibal the Cannibal became a national best-seller, and he was on tour, raking in wealth and acclaim. He probably would have left his position at the hospital anyway.

There was only one thing he lost, and he used much of the book’s royalties hiring a private investigator to keep tabs on you. It was the only way he could be sure you were safe when you would not return any of his calls.

As much as he was terrified of you becoming suicidal again, the truth hurt more.

You were doing well.

You resigned from BSHCI. Within a month, you had a new job as a graphic designer of all things. He never knew you were an artist. There were so many things about you he never asked, and now he never would.

Every so often, he would drive by your house and slow down, trying to catch a glimpse of you. He imagined seeing you hanging a rope, and rescuing you just in time. A thousand versions of the confrontation played in his mind—you screaming, “Stay away from me!” with disgust. Tears streaming from your puffy red eyes. Him pleading, “Do not hurt yourself because of my mistake.” The bark of your sardonic laugh at the realization that he cared.

In a few, precious few, of these fantasies, you would throw yourself into his arms and forgive him.

But he never saw you in danger, and he rarely indulged dreams as unlikely as reconciliation.

Eventually, he didn’t even get to hear your voice directing him to leave a message—only an automated recording that the number has been disconnected. Sometimes, however, you were sitting on the couch in your living room near the window, and it was enough to justify the forty-minute detour through your neighborhood.

One day, your silhouette was not alone.

***

Nurse Clerval quit two days after you left.

They couldn’t forget the shock on your face when you burst into the breakroom and nearly collapsed. It was the most heartbreaking thing to see someone so innocent crushed.

“Ch-Chilton… he—”

Sobbing and stuttering, you told them what happened, and Clerval took care of it. You were in no state to get on the phone, be put on hold, and fill out the miles of paperwork that went with everything in a government-funded hospital. It was a pain in the ass, and nothing would get done anyway, which was why no one ever bothered… but they couldn’t ignore the look on your face.

“You’re going to get through this,” the nurse said when you hadn’t moved for a long time. “Just breathe. It’s going to be bad for awhile, but you just keep breathing, keep surviving, and one day you’ll wake up, and… you’ll be through it.”

You rubbed the tears from your eyes to look up at Clerval with new appreciation. The jaded nurse had been haunting these halls for too long and it hardened them, but they were always watching out for you.

When you tried to throw yourself at them, desperate for stability, they turned you down, patting your head like a child. “You’re not in a clear mental state.”

***

A brown paper takeout bag sat on your kitchen counter. You’d missed your own “congratulations on the new job” party, and Clerval got worried, hiding their relief when you answered the door. Your eyes were lifeless.

“I couldn’t face everyone. If any of them knew I was… seeing him”—you shuddered and avoided saying his name—“they wouldn’t be caught dead with me. How could I be so stupid?”

A calloused thumb wiped a tear from your cheek. “I miss your smile.”

They gave you a small, sad smile of their own. It was the first time you’d seen Clerval smile. Their face looked like it was made to smile, you decided—like it used to a long time ago, but forgot how.

“When you were dating Dr. Chilton... fuck that bastard, but you were happy. I loved coming to work and seeing you smile like that. It brightened up the gloom. I’d like to see you smile like that again someday.”

“I’m sorry,” you choked. “I don’t know if I can anymore.”

Suddenly you were wrapped in a hug, with a comforting voice in your ear. “You can. You will.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Shut up, I’m clair-fucking-voyant, and I goddamned know you will. Now go on and live your life like you believe it too. Don’t you dare turn into an old cynic like me.”

***

Frederick Chilton thought his lungs would burn through his ribcage—that his throat would close up, and he would die. Seeing you with someone else was more than he could stand, and he drove home with a death wish, gas pedal to the floor. He would rather be wrapped around a telephone pole than make it back to his empty, too-large house.

But the universe does not dole out fair consequences.

He deserved to die in a jealous rage. To be arrested. You should have thrown wine in his face in a dramatic public confrontation. Screamed at him. But you never did.

There was no satisfying comeuppance or divine punishment.

There was only the memory of your heart breaking, and knowing three things in that moment: You loved him. It was over. And it was his fault. There was a time in his life when he was happy. When he had you to hold in his arms, kiss away his nightmares, and fill his days with love.

And then he didn’t.

All he had left was the smell of you on his sheets and a hoodie you had forgotten. He laid it out on a pillow beside him and inhaled until even your scent was gone.

Years later, lying in his own charred remains inside an oxygen chamber, he wondered if you would visit and start to cry at the sight of him. Forgive him.

He never saw you again.

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

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[fagwolf-archive]

benrey and gman species headcanons!!!!

so i was thinking about benreys abilities and as i wrote out headcanons i decided u know what. i think benrey and gman are the same species. so here are some thoughts about their species:

- massive eldritch horrorterrory creatures, literally incomprehensible to the human brain. youd probably die if you saw their true forms, your brain would just overload and shut down

- so to exist in the science teams universe, they make themselves appear humanlike juzt so they dont accidentally kill people. also just for practicalities sake - way easier to walk through a door if youre human sized hsjfkhsdjk

- ofc they only LOOK human - theyre still all fucked up and monstery and can shapeshift. gman is older than benrey and has pretty much full control at all times over his form, benrey meanwhile struggles a bit to maintain it and forgets stuff about humans - like that their limbs dont bend that way, or their heads cant turn 180 degrees, or that they only have one row of teeth

- they are a mainly Predator Species and so a lot of their biology fits this!!!:

- bioluminescent eyes act as lure like anglerfish - and also sweet voice! ill go a bit more into sweetvoice in a moment but in hunting context, its used as pretty, hypnotic lure for prey and also to calm prey and induce docility and prevent fighting back (benrey doesnt rlly hunt so he just uses it to calm down gordon when he thinks hes too mad)

- benrey in particular’s “huh? whuh?” thing is cause natural predator instinct to hyperfocus on one thing coupled with Neurodivergency means he finds it really difficult to switch conversation topics or pay attention to multiple things at once.

- i thought a lot about communication as well!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!:

- their species has 3 basic forms of communication, or at least those are the 3 ive thought about:

- 1 is nonverbal - thats a LOT of their communication. body language, certain types of blinking or finger movement etc communicates tons. just like a species like a cat or rabbit.

- 2 is how they talk to their young. again, like cats, eldritches have a reserved form of communication (like meowing) for their babies. this is telepathy - they use it to talk directly and comfortingly to their kids and to immediately figure out what they need. this has also evolved into how they talk to humans - like cats meow at humans cause they see them as big babies.

- and eldritches dont actually speak english, they telepathically convert their language to whatever the humans mother tongue is, projecting the language straight into their head. annoying comparison, but like the tardis’ telepathic field in dr who.

- added onto this, this is why benreys english gets worse when hes emotional. e.g: “im a great cool, so now i gonna be bad”. he struggles more to keep up the telepathy when hes upset or ecstatic, so his english sounds more distorted.

- and ALSO benrey forgets as well that humans cant communicate telepathically. hell respond to something someone thought or read their emotions and react accordingly/get them what they need and he’ll be SO confused when theyre like “wtf how did you do that”

- 3 is SWEETVOICE!!! this is a big part of all assets of their language - its a simple ingrained way to communicate simple emotions and greetings etc, like “nice to meet you” “i like you” “i am feeling angry, dont talk to me” etc.

- gman doesnt use it as much because its generally considered a more simplistic and childish way to talk, as its the first way children learn to communicate outside of telepathy to express their basic emotions. benrey uses it a lot because he Likes It!!!!!!!! it easily expresses what hes trying to say.

- this is also why tommy knows how to read sweetvoice - personally i believe hez human and was adopted by gman but gman still taught him how to read sweetvoice. as hes adopted he cant do it himself, but hes the one who understands benreys communication the best cause he was raised by an eldritch

- the skeletons!! eldritches can create entities to assist them, theyre not living creatures they only exist while the species wants them to. benreys are the skeletons - they help him in the final battle and everything.

- benreys also a younger, weaker eldritch than gman is, and uses his skeletons in a slightly different way. the skeleton that asks gordon for his passport isnt ACTUALLY benrey, its an entity benrey has created while hes temporarily dead to project himself out of while his actual form is rebuilding itself in Limbo.

- i believe the whole thing gman was saying about benrey needing to be contained and everything after he was “killed” is just cause hes an abnormally immature/emotional eldritch, and is pretty outcasted and chaotic as far as things go. like usually these creatures are out being Space Diplomats or apex predators or smth meanwhile benrey just likes Being Around Humans And Playing Video Games :] hes looked down upon a bit

[obeyme-swd]

Hey! May I ask for the brothers' reaction when they switched bodies with MC? Thank you!! Also good luck ok your blog! :D

The demon brothers (feat. Bod swap)

Lucifer

Not happy at all, give his body back please

He's traumatised from the last rime something like this happened to him but wjth satan

He'll respect your wishes if you told him not to do certain stuff while in your body

But would also heavily control what you do in his

He thinks it's interesting to be a human for once, to have no magic

Would 100% get hurt in an insignificant way like a small cut while chopping veggies and now has bannes you from cookies duties

Now compares you to glass dolls

Mammon

He'd be very embarrassed to even look in the mirror

He'd always wanted to feel you and he got his wish finally...kinda?

Would get "angry" with you if you did anything embarrassing in his body

Saw you in his body while looking in the mirror shirtless and he s c r ea m e d

He does ask you to have him try human activities

He used to slide down the stair railing (cuz he's Mammon) and when he did that in your body and it hurt he just stopped

Always remembered how easily breakable your body is from then on

Leviathan

Extremely angry at first

How is he supposed to get maximum score in his game if he can barely control this body!

Truly though he can barely function in your body

His tub is now uncomfortable, all the food he loves makes him sick

Needs to be looked after so he doesn't die in your body

Also has to sleep in your room since he's a human now

He steals your shirts and brings them to your room when you sleep, not to be creepy he's just lonely and loves you

He feels comforted when he sees your body react to the sight of him involuntarily

Satan

Surprisingly not that upset

Quite amused tbh

This guy would pull pranks on you and mess with others in your body

Until he got hurt that is

He realises that you aren't as strong as a demon and that holy shit pain is so much more unbearable for humans

Doesn't really care what you do to his body, he knows he can take it

Would hide the book that started that mess

He does treasure you more after learning about you in such an intimate way

Asmodeus

E x c i t e d

He wants to try so much stuff now

Let him feel your body up, he needs to know how you look undressed

But would respect if you said no

You can't deny that he'd be curious on how love making would feel as a woman, especially a human but would never ever think about pressuring you, especially if you show any kind of discomfort towards more intimate actions

Loves to dress your body up in adorable clothes

When you come back to your body you have a whole new wardrobe, glass-like perfect skin and a manicure

He does expect you to keep up with his beauty routine, cant have a perfect face without skincare

Beelzebub

R e l i e v e d

Finally he doesnt feel that blinding hunger

He can actually concentrate on stuff other than food

Will ask you as soon as he can what he is and isn't allowed to do in your body

Big puppy doesn't wanna upset you, it's your body after all

He'll have food ready for your new body all the time

He understands how hard it is so he tries his best

100% would be shocked to see humans and demons taste food differently

Belphegor

Doesn't care

Not like he'll do much anyway

Will be annoyed when your body begs him to move, his is accustomed to the lazy life

It's weird talking to you in his body

Even weirder when you nap together and he has to hold himself

Still kind of hates the idea of a weak magic-less body

But something in the back of his mind wants to do this for lilith too, to see how she lived her new life

Will ask for guidance in order to enjoy the experience

Hope I did well this time 💗

[starkerforlife6969]

To Be a Widow Part 2

starker, winter spider thanks again to the wonderful @wandering-night19 

Peter’s past three husbands have all died under suspicious circumstances. Detective Stark was convinced that pretty Peter had something to do with it, but more and more lately, Peter’s dangerously loyal butler Bucky has become his prime suspect..read the OG post here and my part 1 to this here 

The ropes binding him are impeccably knotted. No doubt, then, that Barnes has done this before.

It doesn’t stop him from testing them, from flexing his wrists and seeing if there’s any give at all, any sort of slack, any sign from God that he’s looking out for the loveable genius that is Detective Tony-

“Stark’s a liability.” Barnes hisses, voice tight and furious, even as his hands wrap bandaging over Peter’s wrist. Tony had barely even scratched him in his attempt to flee, but Bucky trails his fingers over Peter’s skin like he’s handling some precious gem, some delicate flower.

Peter sits on the edge of his bed, swinging his feet and humming. “I think we can reign him in.” 

Bucky kisses Peter’s now bandaged wrist, slipping down onto one knee like a knight before his King. “He hurt you.” He beseeches quietly, almost a whine, an attack dog, a wolf, desperate to avenge his master.

Peter strokes his fingers through Barnes’ hair, soothing, the same move he used on Tony. “James...”

“Just let me-” he cuts off, a shuddering whimper, and Tony frowns, straining to see and- ah. Peter’s slipper clad foot is pressed into Bucky’s groin. 

Tony feels hot under the collar, and he pulls hard on the restraints once more. Something creaks at the back of the chair and he freezes, but those honey eyes are on him. Peter smiles.

“James wants to hurt you, Tony,” Peter sighs, fingers tugging at Bucky’s hair, loving but firm. “He’s very protective of me, you know.”

“Yeah,” Tony pants, “I guessed as much.” There’s no getting out of his through brute force. Even if he managed to get out of the rope, Barnes has got a few feet on him, and Peter’s spry and nimble and surprisingly strong. “So,” if in doubt, talk it out, “you two are...”

“It’s not so much about us,” Peter drawls, “it’s much more about me. I’m trying to expand my business, Detective.”

“What business?”

“B Enterprises.”

“Never heard of them.”

Peter beams at that, getting to his feet, long silk robe of red trailing after him. He heads over to his desk, covered in important looking documents and lethal, heavy paper weights. He pours himself some scotch and toasts Tony. “Exactly. We operate in a...” Peter muses for a moment, “in a less than official capacity, I’ll admit. But we needed money. I got us some.”

“You’ve killed three people-”

“I haven’t killed anyone, Tony.” He hums sweetly. “But of course, all that aside, we do have a bit of problem now, don’t we?”

Tony swallows hard. “You gonna kill me?”

“Nonsense.” Peter waves him off, “I propose we all sleep on it. James?”

Tony barely has a second to register the grin on Bucky’s face, before he’s being hit by something blunt.

***

In the morning, sunlight trickles in.

It appears the cold spring has left then, and the beginning a of new summer threatens.

Tony blinks the black spots out of his vision, body aching. He’s still in Peter’s bedroom, still bound to a chair in the corner of the lavishly furnished master suite. Peter’s fast asleep, chest rising and falling, the height of comfort, no fear or concern creased into his angelic face.

Tony jerks when he realises Bucky is standing no less than two feet away from him: watching. 

“Jeez,” Tony mutters into the quiet, trying to slow his pulse, “do you not sleep?”

“I will rip you apart.” Bucky whispers, looking like a spring about to burst.

Okay, maybe another way out. Not brute force, but finding a groove and digging. He can do that. “Sure,” he nods, “except pretty boy won’t let you. Keeps that leash on pretty tight, huh?”

Bucky says nothing to that, but his eyes are ice blue. Piercing. 

Tony prods a little more. “You know, just because he didn’t have a physical hand in the killings doesn’t mean we can’t convict. We can still-”

He words are cut off suddenly when Bucky’s hand wraps around his throat, air immediately deprived, he starts to panic, can barely hear Bucky hissing into his ear. “You ever even dare hurt him I will rip you into pieces, I will-”

“Oh, James,” comes a sleepy sigh, and Tony’s dropped like he burns Bucky’s hands, gasping, choking for air, looking over to see Peter sitting up, curls a mess, adorable and defenceless. He looks like a kitten. “What did I say? I said: try not to kill our guest.”

Barnes looks like he wants to do nothing more than rip Tony’s head right off his shoulders. 

Peter holds out his arms, wiggling his fingers, and Bucky goes, led by a siren, into Peter’s warm embrace.

***

Breakfast is a very dignified affair.

Tony’s unbound, but Bucky stands in front of the only door, a gun at his waist.

Peter is in black satin, shoes like polished opals, lips cherry red. The table is laden with food: bright, vibrant pieces of fruit, pinks to oranges to ocean-blues, and Tony doesn’t dare move to serve himself, so sits with an empty plate, watching Peter place a few blueberries into his own bowl. 

“Please, Tony,” Peter purrs, “help yourself.” 

There’s no trembling now. Peter’s completely at ease. Certain. The frailness from yesterday is gone. He’s strong, nimble, elegant. Tony pokes at a piece of pear, but doesn’t eat it. 

“I’d hoped we could speak openly today, Detective. About a constructive way forward for all of us.”

Tony lifts his eyebrows. “I thought there was only one way out. You threaten to have your lackey over there kill me if I ever tell the truth.”

“Well, there’s no need for that,” Peter murmurs, popping a strawberry into his mouth. “You can tell anyone you like. Stories are just that, after all. From what I can tell, you haven’t a shred of evidence against me.”

“The books-”

“Gone now. An oversight. Thank you for alerting me.”

Tony smiles without humour. “Fine. So I have no proof. You’ll just let me go?”

“Well, I’d rather we left things on a more friendly note,” Peter pouts, long lashes batting oh-so-sweetly. “After all, Detective, I thought your desire for me was overwhelming you. A kind of madness, didn’t you call it?”

Tony can feel his cheeks heat, but he refuses to be ruffled. “A momentary lapse in judgement.”

“Really?” Peter sighs, reaching under the table, touching Tony’s knee. “That’s disappointing. I feel there’s a lot I could offer you.”

He refuses to get aroused. Refuses to react. “No, thank you.” He says curtly. “There’s nothing you have that I want.”

At that, Peter laughs. Melodic and triumphant. “Well now, I don’t think that’s quite true. I’m sure you’re used to being the smartest person in the room, Detective, but I’m afraid with me around, you might have to settle for second place. You can read people? As can I. You crave control. I can give you that- or, at least the allusion of it.”

He hates how he feels intrigued. Like a puppet with an invisible master. 

Peter’s voice drops into a whisper. “I could submit to you so sweetly. All yours for you to take whenever, however you want. In return....perhaps you don’t spread those nasty, baseless rumours about me. Perhaps you leave my tragic case alone. Along with any other tragedies that might befall me.”

Tony wants to laugh. Wants to mock Peter at using his body as his bargaining chip but he wants. He wants that. Wants to feel that body beneath him, he wants-

“I could play love with you, Detective,” Peter offers, more gentle, and he reaches out to take Tony’s hand, twining their fingers together. “I could be a widow, shaken, unsure if love is for me after all, but then you...you change that.” His honey eyes fill with tears. “Oh, Detective Stark. Thank you for keeping me safe, I’m so-so grateful.” Peter grins, and Tony realises he’s leaned in, holding hands tightly. “You could hold me. Play house with me, from time to time. I’ll make dinner, dance with you, I’m very good at playing pretend, Tony.”

Tony gapes, words stuck in his throat. The kid’s a master. An actor. Sliding into each role.

But he can feel danger along the back of his neck, and he turns to see Bucky, barely contained in his jealousy.

Peter takes Tony’s chin and guides his eyes back to him. “James won’t hurt you, Tony,” he promises, “he’s just protective, that’s all.”

“You play pretend with him too?”

Peter’s mouth lifts into a smile, and Tony hates the audible jealousy in his own voice. “No, Tony,” he murmurs, a beautiful lie, “I only play pretend with you.”

***

Bucky grits his teeth watching as Tony walks down the drive and gets into his car. As soon as he’s gone, he hurries upstairs to the master bedroom. 

Peter is stretched out on the bed like a pleased cat, naked, covered in red marks. 

Bucky wants to howl. He immediately gets a wash cloth and some warm water, cleaning Peter up. 

Peter spreads his lily-white thighs further apart, and Bucky groans at the sight. 

“He was rough with you.” Bucky whimpers, swiping in gentle strokes, fumbling to soothe any aches. 

“Only because I let him be,” Peter reminds, looking at Bucky over his shoulder, pink lips curving into a smile. “We can take him out whenever we like, sweetheart.”

“But you won’t.” Bucky mutters, two fingers sliding into Peter’s little hole. Gentle and soothing. “You like him.” It’s an accusation. 

Peter rolls his eyes. “I like being adored, James. That’s hardly a surprise, is it?”

“But...”

“Are you feeling left out?” Peter pouts, teasing. “You want to be the one to rule me, is that it? No,” he looks him up and down, and Bucky bares himself to the gaze. Wants to be seen. “No,” Peter nods again, “you want to wrap me up in cotton wool. Keep me safe, don’t you?”

Yes. Bucky thinks desperately, nodding hard. Yes, that’s what he wants. 

“He was so rough with me,” Peter hiccups, going pliant and soft into the bed sheets, slipping into Bucky’s favourite role. “Hurt me, Buck, he hurt me. Will you make it better?” He cants his hips up invitingly. “Please?”

Bucky leans down, eager, kissing down Peter’s spine, tongue finding-

“Oh!” Peter gasps, clutching at the bed sheets, “that feels-”

Yes. Bucky thinks, holding the boy’s hips, making him feel good. This is what he wants. This is what he’ll always want. 

And he’ll do anything to keep it. 

Tagging: @plueschpop @thestarkerisobvious @fogdog1738 @icandoakickflip @starker-stories @yeehawmyoatmeal @starker-prompt-dump @goldenmogar @everyonelovespetey @starkerintheparker @prettieststarker @itsrachael @silkystark @deliciousflapbanditfarm @prettyboy-parker @starkerrifics @angelstarker @firefandoming

[captain-jinguji]

Hello!! I'm head over heels in love with your blog! 🥺 Soo if it’s easy for you, please write “wet dreams” for starish.... I’ve lost my head too much from a quartet👉👈 .... thanks!

Hey!!! Im head over heels in love with you for saying that 😍👉👈 glad you enjoy it. the QN was such a heat of the moment type of thing 😌 but i gotchu

WARNING: NSFW, SMUT, SINFUL THINGS

STARISH reacting to having a wet dream about their crush

Natsuki:

It's kind of hard with this one. With you, he thinks so innocently and sweet, but behind closed doors another side comes out in him, almost animalistic, and he gets these... Thoughts.

Thoughts of seeing you in certain outfits, not because they look cute, but because they look so inviting. And those thoughts quickly turn to dreams, and he cant deny the bliss he feels inside of them.

He wants you on top, mainly. Can feel your hands rubbing over his chest while you tease him with words and a hard roll of your hips against his, his cock buried deep inside you

Natsuki is crumbling beneath you, holding onto your waist to keep you close to him. Your name leaves his lips in a shudder and your sweet voice spurting him on is enough to make him cry out

He wont realize it until the next morning, when he feels the dried cum stains against his pyjama pants and his face flushes in embarrassment.

He's a grown man, but how can he face such adult things when you think of him only as a teddy bear?

Tokiya:

Tokiya has more control than that; hasnt had a wet dream in years and always tends to his body's need. Yet, lately his needs have been rising and he knows why.

Seeing you in the halls, walking so confidently around him and slowly cracking through his shell makes him want to push you down beneath him, claiming you as his.

He could feels your lips against his own, feel your skin pulsate beneath his hands while he teased you with long, slow strokes, filling you up over and over again.

He could hear you whine beneath, begging him for more, begging him to go faster, but it was so delicious to see you squirm beneath him, he could almost--

And he came, waking up right as his clothed length spurted his desire into his pants. He groaned in both frustration and annoyance. He needed to do something about you.

Cecil:

He was always so careful around you, knowing that these feelings only grew stronger with each passing day and how he is starting to lose a hold of them

His hands grabbed his pillow tightly, face rubbing against it. But his eyes were set on you, animalistic, like a hunter after his prey. He could see you in front of him, legs spread while his face was buried between them

His tongue was feeling you, tasting you, licking you up and down, careful not to miss a spot while he praised you for being so good to him

Your sounds of pleasure easily reached his ears and just like a predator, he yearned for more. His own arousal was starting to get a hold of him and he started to rub his erection along the mattress, with every stroke of his tongue, successfully undoing himself in the process

He woke up, lazily opening his eyes before he looked down his pants in embarrassment. What is he doing with himself...

Ren:

Ren had a target and it was you. It has always been you and he just had to have you. Sinful thinking is not new to him and he had his fair shares about you, but this dream tops all the thoughts his mind could come up with during the day.

You were in front of him, eager to please. Your mouth has been teasing him all day, with both words and dirty kisses, but right now, while you were on your knees with your mouth open, ready to receive his load, that has to have been his favorite part.

He could feel your lips slowly close up around him, the wetness of your tongue slowly caressing the underside of his shaft. A hand made its way downward to rub over his hard dick. Sleeping naked has its percs.

Praising you, a hand also found its way to the back of your head, guiding your mouth across his erection, but oh then you began to swallow around him and he absolutely lost it.

Hand tightly wrapped around his shaft, his eyes opened right as his cum hit his abdomen, slowly stroking the orgasm out of himself. He was laying there, panting... Knowing he needed to know what those lips really felt like.

Otoya:

No one would expect it. Not him. No one expects he releases himself in the shower after being around you all day. No one knows the sinful things he watches at night, wishing it was you and him.

And they mustve done something, because the dreams are getting wilder and wilder. Right now, you were pushed up against a wall, your skirt up and his pants unbuckled. He didnt know weather it was the risk or the feeling of your bodies so close together but he could feel everything inside of you.

Your moans grazed his ears and encouraged him to take you faster, harder than before while his fingers dug into your sides. The mix of pain and pleasure just making you cry our harder

He couldn't last long, not like this, not when it felt so good, and with one last hard push against the mattress, he came, crying out in his sleep and panting himself awake.

His face flushed. Embarrassed. Humiliated. So many times hes had these dreams, yet he cant even tell you how truly gorgeous you are.

Syo:

You were such a dominating force in his life; always there, always a challenge. Maybe thats why he leaned into you so much; needed you so much.

It was becoming agonizing. Seeing you so bold, so out there around him, that you followed him into his dreams; teased him, in his dreams. Your hand was around his hard cock, mocking him for being so turned on but god it only turned him on more.

Your thumb was teasing over his tip, collecting the precum to use as a lubricant for your pumping. He could feel his hips bucking into the air, desperate for more friction that wasnt there.

But that voice. Telling him how good he is, how strong he is, how much pleasure he gives you. That's what really sends him over the edge, makes him want to grab you and do all kinds of things. And it does.

His legs are shaking as he comes down from his high, quickly falling back asleep as though this never happened. Only the stickiness he feels the next morning reminding him of the problem thats slowly starting to be created.

Masato:

Maybe its because hes already sexually frustrated. Maybe it's because he cant bring himself to get it off his chest. Or maybe it's because you looked absolutely stunning in the Yukata you were wearing earlier.

But right now, all he knows is that his need to be inside of you was overwhelming and he rolled over onto his stomach as if he was really pushing you down. Your face was so nicely flushed beneath him, your legs spread for him in such an intimate way. He promised he would be gentle.

But the feeling of your heat clenching around the tip of his dick as he slowly entered you has him breaking that promise quicker than anything. It felt too good to not glide right back out, only to slam back in.

Your moans rung in ears sweeter than any piano he ever heard; the dirty sound of your skin slapping together turning his face a rosy pink. He could feel your walls clenching around him; could feel your pulsating core and he was so lost in the feeling that he didn't feel himself reaching his own high

Only the feeling of his dick spurting out loads of his semen against himself brought him back to reality. His hands were shaking, looking down at himself in utter humiliation. How could he think of such things with you?

[ice-cream-nekogirl]

lights will guide you home (Tokoyami Fumikage X Reader) PART 3

PART 3 to: https://ice-cream-kitsunegirl.tumblr.com/post/189819603459/lights-will-guide-you-home-tokoyami-fumikage-x

FOLLOWS AFTER: https://ice-cream-kitsunegirl.tumblr.com/post/612187050604675072/if-i-cant-love-her-tokoyami-fumikage-x-reader

Taglist: @shimy-deko​, @teerama​

Summary: After fumbling about in the dark, the light finally guided you home, but will everything be back the way it used to before you lost your memory?

All of my memories keep you near. In silent moments imagine you here. All of my memories keep you near. Your silent whispers, silent tears.

-‘Memories’ Within Temptation

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GM6PYawZ8nk

2 DAYS AGO...

“Tokoyami...”

You found yourself saying his name which just pissed off the man when he cracked open an eye, “Already thinking about your boyfriend that you left?! OH NO GIRLY! I’ll kill you!! I’ll kill your stupid boyfriend if you can’t fucking choose! It’s either him… or me!” He screamed as you finally had enough sense to realize how unstable this person was.

“No!” You shouted and used your light against him to blind him once more and you swiped the gun out of his hands as he lost control of the wheel and you couldn’t stop yourself from screaming when you heard the car screeching and swerving into another row of trees…

CRASH!!

2 DAYS LATER…

Aizawa let out a heavy sigh after finishing speaking with the Bakugou family along with All-Might at his side. They had spoken to just about every one of the 1-A student’s families in spite of the fact that one student was still missing.

Naturally the parents were very skeptical, and some were a tad bit unfriendly given the fact that while Bakugou was rescued and brought back home. One was still missing, and no one has found them yet. It gave them little reason to trust the UA staff so talking to the parents was more difficult than they thought.

“I’m highly certain that (L/N) is out there. She was last seen at the training camp wasn’t she?” All-Might tried to express some hope that you were still alive and still out there because the pro-heroes were looking around vigorously for you after your parents became extremely frantic when they found out that you were missing.

Aizawa didn’t dare tell them the exact details though about how it was another one of his students that was partially responsible for your disappearance. For he feared that would be the least logical thing to tell an extremely worried family who in their desperation and emotional states would lash out and blame the student, the school, and probably file some kind of lawsuit or something.

“She was. But Midoriya and Shouji said that she was using her quirk to fly, until Tokoyami’s quirk knocked her out of the sky. They searched the entire forest and didn’t find a body, but they did find blood.” Aizawa was more cynical about this situation, but clung to the hope that you were out there, but where were you exactly?

“Was it hers?”

“(L/N)’s blood type is (B/T). The blood they found was (B/T).” He replied neutrally, but was secretly relieved to know that the blood was yours as it meant that you were definitely in the forest, at least until they lost the trail of blood as the last droplet was found on a road.

“If these findings indicate anything, I’m going to assume that after she was attacked by Dark Shadow, she walked through that forest, found the road into town, and hitched a ride.” Was Aizawa’s best hypothesis as he thought about it based on everything that some of the pro-heroes found. However, there was something else that alarmed him. Which was news of a car crash that occurred the next morning after all the 1-A students were sent home or to the hospital.

Only the body of the driver was found, and while his car was totaled the driver survived, but the pro-heroes claimed that someone else’s blood was found in the wreck. (B/T) blood. 

“Do you think…?” All-Might had heard about this news, and he started to come up with his own theories based on how everything was slowly starting to piece together. Aizawa gave a slow nod, but at the same time he still worried, even though he wouldn’t say it. He hoped that he would see you soon, just so he could know that you were still alive, and that he could still do something to help you recover after a traumatic experience.

You were his student dammit…

BANG!

All-Might let out of a startled shout and for once Aizawa jumped ever so slightly at the sudden, loud impacting noise coming from the window as he swiftly turned to see no one other than you. Face dirtied and covered in blood, grime and your (H/C) hair a complete mess with your (E/C) eyes widened and frenzied as you had your bloody hands clasped against the glass as you heavily panted from exhaustion, desperation and terror.

“(L/N)?!” Your teacher reacted quickly when you sank to your knees and he got of the limousine fast so he could check on you. You looked horrible, cuts and scratches lacerated around your body with dried up blood across some of your more infected wounds as you trembled in your teacher’s arms when he picked you up.

“We need to get her to a hospital right now.” Aizawa didn’t hesitate as he carried you into the car and told the drive to step on it. Finally... 

You prayed to whatever deities were up there that this wasn’t a hallucination. It was Aizawa right? Not just a figment of your imagination? Please you prayed that this was truly them after walking and running for so long... 

“Young (L/N)… what kind of journey have you been through…?” All-Might asked you as you were fading in and out of consciousness and couldn’t even answer without shuddering. “No don’t speak… you’ve been through enough…” However, the former Symbol of Peace gently hushed you so you didn’t strain yourself after everything you’ve been through…

“A… Al… All M-Mmmight…?”

Blinking your tired eyes slowly, you recognized this man, he looked like some kind of, emaciated version of All-Might. No… this was All-Might, but why did he look like that? You weren’t exactly around to watch the battle between him and All For One.

“Yes… yes it’s me… please, don’t strain yourself.” He replied to you gently once it became clear that you had recognized him despite not seeing or hearing of the most recent news.

“(L/N). You need to rest, your wounds look pretty bad, so we’re taking you to the hospital. You won’t need to speak until you’re well enough to.” That was the first time you heard Aizawa speak so gently to you, and you could tell he was genuinely worried.

It was Aizawa... it was All-Might... you weren’t imagining anything...

You just wished you could tell him everything right now, especially now that you remembered everything after losing your memory even just for a little bit. Still, you heeded their wishes as you found yourself slowly closing your eyes all the while the two adults told you that everything would be okay.

Yet in the back of your head you could still see your classmates as their faces lingered in your restored memory like Izuku, Shouji...

Tokoyami...

AT THE HOSPITAL…

Post-traumatic amnesia is what they call it apparently as you were put in the hospital and had your infected wounds treated by the nurses and Recovery Girl as soon as she found out that the other lost student from UA was found, injured.

Apparently, it’s a temporary state of confusion or memory less that usually almost always happened after a traumatic brain injury, which is why you couldn’t remember what happened after you were attacked.

By Dark Shadow…

Being with that… that guy from the car, somehow triggered your memory when he made you increasingly nervous and made you use your quirk. Just activating the quirk you didn’t know you had in the moment made you remember everything, and how you even got there.

How you got attacked by your classmate completely by accident, on the run from a villain no less, when you crashed into a tree that’s when it all went black. Then when you came to is when you had no idea where you were at, at least until you found yourself in a car with some psychopath…

“Can you tell us what happened?” And once you were well enough police were already questioning you, but there was no way you were going to say that your classmate indirectly caused all of this. Not when those villains were the cause of it all…

“I was… my friends and I… we were running from a villain… the villain with the swords for teeth…” 

So you explained the situation, albeit you had to lie and say that Moonfish is the one who was responsible for your wounds. And they believed you because Moonfish was arrested and already infamous for his penchant for violence. They had no doubts that he’s the one who sliced up your back and gave you ugly wounds that had gotten infected and the nurses thankfully healed it up with their quirks.

After that you explained how you had forgotten everything and everybody until then, wandered around aimlessly from one bad situation into another with some lunatic in a car you thought would take you to safety, but no, he nearly killed you and you barely escaped with your life. And then after you got away from him you just kept walking and walking until you made your way back to the city and by some miracle, you found Aizawa after he was speaking to the Bakugou family.

Your feet and legs were sore as hell, bleeding like some of the other parts of your body, but they were finally patched up. The infections hurt like hell, but some of these doctors had quirks to make the pain go away little by little. Although you weren’t going to forget everything that happened to you in those three horrible days. There’s no way you could forget that now that your mind was cleared and everything was brought back to light.

And then you remembered something else, your classmates and Tokoyami…

Oh my God, what happened to him? After Dark Shadow attacked you just remember waking up in some deep part of that forest and asked that Deadpool guy where you was and then everything else…

You hoped he was okay. You remembered how much he was struggling to hold Dark Shadow down from destroying everything and everybody. The anguish in his crimson eyes...

You really hoped he didn’t beat himself up after all of that…

“(L/N)?!!”

But then you gasped as soon as you heard your name being called as you perked up when all of a sudden, there were your classmates all standing there and staring at you in shock and awe. It’s already been a hectic three days and although they had Bakugo back, they still missed you terribly.

Izuku, Uraraka and Tsuyu in particular teared up when they saw you okay and the two girls quickly rushed over to gently hug you. Relieved that you were alive and well, as many of your other classmates like Iida, Yaoyorozu and Kirishima couldn’t hide their tears of joy when seeing that you were okay and back.

Still… even though you were hurting, you picked yourself up so you could hug each and every one of them out of relief and happiness to be back, to remember all of their faces again. After you finished hugging Tsuyu, you gasped upon seeing Shouji. You rushed over and hugged him as he didn’t deter you and warmly hugged you with his six arms as he didn’t dare shed any tears. You were scared, and he knew it. After what happened, he knew that you must have still been a little fragile after such a long journey all by yourself. He had to be strong for you.

“S-Shouji…” You clung to him, but then you remembered… Tokoyami. Where was he? “S-Shouji where’s…?” The taller male paused even as he felt you look up at him and he knew exactly who you were talking about. But Tokoyami’s been silent for the past three days, distant more so than normal. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, he didn’t want to interact with anyone or be around anyone. Shouji knew it had to have been because he was still riddled with the remorse of harming a classmate and believing that he got you killed.

“Tokoyami… is he okay?” You asked when Shouji didn’t give you an answer, and all he could do was nod. “He’s okay…” He answered you briefly and didn’t say anything else because… that wasn’t his place. You and Tokoyami would have to do that part together and talk.

And you gave a huge sigh of relief when you heard that he was okay, but you weren’t aware of the emotional turmoil that Tokoyami was currently suffering as he stood outside the room, eyes wide as he had his hands clutching at his feathers. So many emotions flooded into his head all at once the second he found out that you were still alive. Relief, joy, shock, and also even more remorse, regret and hate towards himself because now he got to see all of the damage that HE caused, now he could only ask himself, what the hell was he doing here? Why did he even come? He was SO relieved that you were still alive but what if you hated him? What if you never wanted to see him again after he nearly killed you? You probably did hate him and he didn’t blame you…

He hated himself too...

He could hear you telling your story to everyone, how you just blacked out and ran into some psycho while you had no fucking idea who you even were because you lost your memory for a little bit. Everyone was shaken up, horrified at what you had to go through and how you were unfortunate to move from one bad situation to another with that guy in the car, and they were so happy that you were here, alive and mostly unscathed.

No, he couldn’t bear to see you again, he couldn’t bear to talk to you again. He ruined everything, he ruined the friendship you and he had, he nearly killed you. How would he come back from that? He wouldn’t…

He needed to get out of here, and he just hoped to the gods that you didn’t notice that he was here, he didn’t want you to see him, he couldn’t bear the thought of it. The raven found himself slowly walking away from the room you and his classmates were in and pretended to be oblivious to his surroundings and he ignored the voice in his head telling him to go back. He especially ignored Dark Shadow pleading with him to go back and see you. No, he stopped listening to him and ignored every word he said. He wasn’t going to go back to you.

He couldn’t...

There’s no way you could hold any affection left for him after everything he put you through. No way…

“Tokoyami.”

But then he froze once he heard your voice directed at him, and resisted all temptation to turn around and see your face and yet his weak human heart forced him to slowly turn and that was the biggest mistake of his life as he saw you slowly step out of the room. You looked awful, your (H/C) hair a mess, gauze and bandages wrapped around your head, arms, legs and dried blood stains under your lips. HE did that, he’s the cause of all that. He’s the reason you blacked out, he’s the reason you crashed with that lunatic, he’s the reason you were hurt…

Tokoyami couldn’t bear it, he couldn’t fucking bear it, he turned away and walked away. “Hey… c’mon…” To be honest, it was a little hard for you to look at him again but you still wanted to at least see if he was okay after that whole ordeal, but he was walking away.

“Tokoyami…” Reaching your arm out weakly for him, you hoped he would come back but Tokoyami kept his gaze averted and sped up his pace to quickly get away from you. “No…” Shaking your head you took another step forward but then a nurse came over and stopped you from trying to leave.

“Please return to your bed you’re still hutr…!” She exclaimed in worry as the rest of your classmates also urged you to go back to your bed once they saw that you were still groggy. God you were so tired, but you wanted to see Tokoyami. Despite everything that happened, you just wanted to see him again…

PRESENT TIME…

The days passed by fast as you almost didn’t even realize that it had been a week since you and your friends were attacked by villains at the Summer camp and that one of your classmates got taken for 2 days while you had been lost at the same time for those days as well but you still remembered everything that happened. Even the memories you lost, you remembered all of them. Everything that happened within the span of a single week.

How does time move by so fast?

You had no idea, but you were only somewhat relieved to know that the worst was over and you were out of the hospital as they had let you out three days ago. Your body still wasn’t at 100 percent but you were happy to be out of there and in a new place. That’s right…

It took a while to get used to this new change since dorms weren’t really something you expected in your school life but to your surprise, it started to feel like home as you got slowly used to it. And it felt so nice to be in this large building, looking outside the window to see the night looking so serene and lovely with the moonlight there to light up your darkness. That was how you found your way back home, even when you were limping you relied primarily on your quirk, and every light that you saw. The sun, the lamps in the streets, the city lights that brightened up the night’s sky.

Light was your clarity.

Light was what protected you from the darkness even when you felt that there would no longer be any light. Yet at the same time, even though you no longer felt comfortable in the dark, there was still something elegant about it. The night was so peaceful, the darkness provided a sense of rest for everyone, including yourself as you just wanted to go to sleep but you couldn’t sleep.

That’s why you were awake, because you were thinking too much about everything that had happened, thinking too much about him…

Tokoyami. Your dear friend that had been avoiding you for over a week, and you knew it was because he still couldn’t bring himself to face you after Dark Shadow attacked you and left a nasty scar on your back once your wounds had recovered. Of course, you wanted to try and talk to him or at the very least say ‘hi’ but he just turned away and left every single time you tried. And instead of just forcing him to speak you let him be…

After all you can’t just make someone talk to you, even though you really wanted to. Even though you really wanted to let him know that he doesn’t have to avoid you despite everything that happened. Even though you… really also wanted to let him know that for the past couple of days he’s all you’ve been able to think about and even before all of this, you still thought about him because you liked him…

Even after all of this, you still liked him, you loved him…

Oh well, he clearly wasn’t interested in talking to you so you just sighed and decided to go back to your room and attempt to sleep. You knew that he was just feeling guilty but still.

“I just wanna go back to my room and watch AHS all night…” You muttered lowly to yourself as you got up from where you were kneeling to go back to the room you were given.

But then you stopped as soon as you heard footsteps and you were worried that it was probably Iida, so you knelt down and hid behind the side of the couch. You couldn’t see who it was now but based on the fact that you could hear nothing but footsteps and a lack of voice, you assumed that you weren’t seen or noticed. Suddenly, light brightened up the once dim room and you resisted the urge to gasp. The refrigerator was open, that’s all you could assume but now you had to stay still so they didn’t see you.

Finally, you heard a heavy sigh. There wasn’t much to make out but the voice sounded deep, definitely one of the guys, which made sense there was like 14 freaking boys in this damn class. Sausage Fest in your opinion…

However, you didn’t want to bother anyone and weren’t in the mood to talk to anyone so you decided to just sneak away quickly before they spot you. You almost assumed it could be Shouji, but if it was, he probably would have called you out already so you started to crawl away from the spot, still hidden with the couch covering you as you still heard nothing. Curiosity ended up getting the best of you though, and you put your hands on the couch to carefully pick yourself up to try and sneak a peek of who it was.

There he was…

You knew that head of feathers anywhere as Tokoyami had his wrists down on the kitchen counter, head down with a glass of water beside him. Poor thing looked out of it, at least that’s what you thought because his feathers seemed more ruffled and messier than how they normally looked. And you wondered just what was he doing up at this ungodly hour? Although it wouldn’t surprise you if he was an insomniac like you were, it would certainly explain it because while he enjoyed the darkness, you had a feeling that there was also more than that to him.

But then a sadder thought came to mind, after everything you had been through, you, Tokoyami, and Bakugo, Shouji, Midoriya and the others for that matter, there’s no way you guys would forget that. No emotional teenager would because of how horrifying that all way, and you wondered if there was an anxiety thing going on, or even a night terror since you, Tokoyami, Bakugo and Midoriya probably came out of this ordeal the most psychologically scathed.

That was it, wasn’t it?

Now you really wanted to actually talk to him the more you thought about it, but you were so lost in thought you didn’t even hear the quiet gasp leaving the raven as his crimson eyes widened after picking his head up and seeing your head pop up from the couch.

No, no this couldn’t be happening...

TO BE CONTINUED...

[xilvaris]

RED & BLU Spyper Headcanons

Oh boy this is a long one

RED

can create multiple holograms of himself that he can control individually (kinda like Kali from Stranger Things, but only holograms of himself)

avid freak hunter, started off as having to defend himself but then took it up as a job

has multiple scars on his face and body from fighting other freaks all the time. he patches the holes in his clothes himself

uses a double bladed staff, its great for crowd control and he likes the distance between him and his enemies, but he does keep a few extra knives on him just in case 

has a dead ringer and will absolutely use it in a fight. faking your death can be useful once they get you

mute (not really a headcanon since minifett confirmed it to me on steam)

knows sign language but doesn't use it often

ace/aro

dominant spy personality, represses sniper personality. the switches bothered him. he got tired of the weird stares on missions. we've seen how other freaks react to blu spyper. (nnngh sniper calls him a “spy head mutant.”) obviously everyone in this world is weird in some way but headswaps aren't seen all that often

uses spy's default revolver, its small enough for him to carry around and not as loud as a sniper rifle

doesn't drink alcohol because he tries to keep his mind stable. he’s almost always working and doesn't like to be distracted 

can shoot equally accurate with both hands 

likes birds (he secretly wishes he could fly)

doesn't trust people easily, anyone can turn on him and he will not take that chance  

decent hacker, breaking into buildings or tech facilities undetected is a lot easier if you know how to disable the security system and shut down bots

likes to draw, it keeps his mind clear. he started off as doodles in his free time 

BLU

keeps a deck of cards in the pouch on his hip, he gets bored on his own in the van and solitaire keeps him busy (plus intelligent heavy likes to play Go Fish) 

keeps his van clean, most of his life is chaotic so he likes to be able to come “home” to something tidy and well kept

has a cat bed in the van for his pet headcrab, Goggles, because it’s claws kept tearing up the seats (intelligent heavy made it for him)

has 4 watches (stock invis watch, enthusiasts timepiece, quäckenbirdt, and cloak and dagger)

still has body dysmorphia from having his head yanked off his old body and screwed onto another, but he cant remember being a normal spy

neither personality is really dominant though spy is default, he’s ok with the switches and doesn't try to hold them back 

pan/demi/ace

doesn't let anyone besides intelligent heavy drive the van because he only taught IH how to drive it. i mean, who knows how to drive a flying van

has bad handwriting

prefers a sniper rifle over spy's revolver

mixed handed/cross dominance (writes lefty, shoots righty)

can't cook. he doesn't get the chance to practice when he’s almost always on the road, but intelligent heavy brings him home cooked meals sometimes 

terrible with computers, he’s not always around technology and prefers to be outside in the “fresh air”, but he does have super long distance (upgraded with austrailium) walkie talkies to talk to a certain heavy freak

trained Goggles to stay near the van and lets it out when they park, usually calls him back with a whistle when they’re ready to leave

uber touch starved, he melts whenever intelligent heavy hugs or puts his arm around him. blu will usually keep close to IH or lean on him whenever they’re together, it helps him feel more in touch with himself. 

BOTH

neither drink anything with caffeine because it makes the personality switches more erratic

both are very agile, though red is a bit faster and blu relies on teleportation

both can speak French, even though they cant remember their spy lives, the language remains

both are excellent navigators, their sense of direction is incredible

both are 6'1"

Feel free to tell me your own ideas, or let me know what you think of mine!

[splendidshinobi]

FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST 2003 LIVE REACT: EPISODES 6-10

back at it again with the white vans

episode 6: the alchemy exam

alrighty then

um mustang calling edward “ed” is EXTREMELY offputting

ohhhhhhh noooooo not shou tucker

FUCK

im wholly unprepared

them all being in central instead of east is low key jarring like my brain isnt computing it

alexander’s intro is basically the same 

nina bbyyyyy girl u deserved so much better

ed is such a fucking nerd...chemistry club modern au confirmed

god the more tucker talks the more i wanna beat his face in

al pretending to eat by tossing a potato in his armor i-

aww theyre playing in the snow theyre so pure

wonder how long thatll last

“bigger brother” and “little big brother” and ed doesnt even get mad

ed’s birthday party????????

A MELON? ED YOURE SO RUDE

so 03 had ed’s bday instead of elicia’s...CAUSE THEY GOT ELICIA IN THE WOMB

“it’s here!” “the tea?” “the baby!” hughes is a fuck head

ok so now they’re having elicia replace rush valley baby arc

this was winry’s time to shine in fmab i miss her 

if winry isnt here who is gonna birth this baby

oh my god they just realized ed can use alchemy without a circle

no wonder he’s been using circles this whole time

SO ELICIA JUST POPPED OUT????? WHAT

STUFF ALEXANDER IN THE ARMOR AND PRETEND YOURE A TALKING DOG???

“i dont think thats very funny” NO ALPHONSE IT IS NOT

THEY KNEW EXACTLY WHAT THEY WERE DOING WITH THAT ONE I SWEAR TO GOD IN THIS ESSAY I WILL

damn bradley what up homie

im so thrown off by the way theyre doing the exam omg

seriously what the hell is fuhrer bradley’s purpose right now is he even the fuhrer in this i feel like they wouldve mentioned it

oh lord ed is about to impress everyone with his clappy hands

ok so next episode is nina FUCK

episode 7: night of the chimera’s cry

havoc babeeee

im gonna marry him my himbo king

also can RIZA DO SOMETHING PLZ

“huhhhhhhhh nina” ew tucker that was weirdly gross

wonder why

cant do it cant do it

do we think jean kirstein was modeled after jean havoc slightly looks wise

was that purposeful 

ill have to google 

serial killer who only targets women?  it cant be scar...scar drinks respect women juice

barry or slicer bros maybe? um ok

why did we start with liore if they were just gonna hop right back into the past for a huge chunk of episodes idk

assessment day??? oh noodles

AL WHY DID YOU TELL TUCKER TO MAKE ANOTHER TALKING CHIMERA ALPHONSE NO

THE NOISE I EMITTED IM GONNA TAKE A LAP

im gonna FUCKING SCREAM

ed r u writing to winry??? that’s a bit out of character for u good sir

no tucker put that baby down

im gonna fucking SCREAM

aww he burned nina’s picture thats not sus at all

SHESKA!!!!!

wait does the ironblood alchemist know what tucker did to his wife? thats kinda the vibe im getting

SCARRRRRRRR

looking like a pirate too damn

his voice sounds different is that j michael tatum 

apparently not it was dameon clarke in 03 ya learn something new everyday 

ew elicia has a lot of hair for a FUCKING NEWBORN

ed really is such a cynic very suspicious of everyone as he should be really

basque grand knowS SOMETHING

oh jesus oh fuck oh god please do not TOUCH THAT BABY

ed and al snuck back in to the house well u know what its for the best

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

im gonna cry again please god no

FUCKING DIE SHIT HOLE

she’s hurting? oh my god

my sweet angel

ew his eyes!!!!!!! 

tucker is such a fucking failure...like look at the chimera squad and greed’s theatre troupe being the way they are. ugh it really hits how fucking unfair it is 

ed was really about to split them? boy you know better

where is nina going...im hurting

ed really tried to save her in this one

SCAR KILLS NINA IN THE STREETS???????? SIR

thats different

oh snap 

oh FUCK

SCAR WHY DID YOU LEAVE HER BODY LIKE THAT

THE WAY SHE WAS ARRANGED ON THE WALL THAT WAS FUCKED UP

AND THEY FOUND HER LIKE THAT???? AT LEAST IN BROTHERHOOD THEY DIDNT HVE TO SEE HER CORPSE ARE YOU SHITTING ME?

that was fucked.

episode 8: the philosopher’s stone

can yall get ed and al away from nina’s fucking MURAL 

get out of the car mustang

finally jesus christ

roy mustang talking about healthy coping mechanisms dont make me laugh but alright baby boy go off i guess?

im curious about who this goddamn serial killer is though lets turn to that plot thread

r u kidding me

mustang is making ed and al take over tucker’s research?? thats actually wildly messed up

oh tucker was straight executed that’s a choice i guess

tucker and the philosopher’s stone sounds inaccurate but ok

ed please stop being mean to your brother

03 mustang has got me reaching for a fucking baseball bat on GOD

scar and edward having this conversation right now i literally cannot

WINRY yes bitch

BRADLEY WHAT IN TARNATION

JESUS LORRRRRRDDDDDDDDDDDD

alphonse shut your mouthhhhhhhhhhh

im so confused what is bradley up to

“alchemists are not cold blooded murderers?”

i mean

kimblee would beg to differ for one

whos this creepy lady 

her voice sounds familiar

barry’s food shop?

the killer is barry ok got it

IS BARRY DISGUISED AS A WOMAN

I KNEW THAT WAS JERRY JEWELL’S VOICE

WELL I KNEW IT SOUNDED FAMILIAR AT LEAST

WINRY GET OUT OF THE FUCKING TRUCk

has PINAKO TAUGHT YOU NOTHING

ok so i VASTLY prefer suit of armor original manga canon barry

this is such an odd plot what in fuck

um OW the meat cleaver

im so confused this fucking plotline

oh hey alphonse nice of you to show up!

is barry still gonna become a suit of armor later on

it makes NO SENSE to introduce him otherwise 

everytime i see 03 mustang i wanna beat his ass HONESTLY

literally i will shove my foot up his ass

fullmetal here we go

ed thinks he’s so punk rock 

oh great scar’s seen the watch

episode 9: be thou for the people

ed you simp buying winry all this stuff my edwin heart is ascending

SIMP SIMP SIMP

“mr. elric”?? you mean MAJOR ELRIC

to be fair though fuck the military

YOUSWELL??? oh LORD

im gonna need to read a full chronology of this show

 alphonse continues to be a precious angel 

where’s my boy yoki!!!!!

edward you idiot don’t go flaunting your money

woof woof ed

al looks so offended by ed saying they just met

whereas in brotherhood didnt he totally throw ed under the bus??? 

a choice to be sure

ah there he is hello yoki

who’s the chick

shes a lesbian

yoki makes me miss my baby girl mei chang

mei where r u

WAS THIS MILITARY DUDE REALLY ABOUT TO CUT DOWN A CHILD??? oh my god

hawkeye getting a promotion yes bby girl

jesus theyre transferring them to east now OKKKKKAY thats not how it happened it the book but ill take it....just doing it the opposite way i guess

who is lyra who is she

cute some military bribery 

umm lyra what the fuck did you do

lyra is a homunculus im callin it now

they definitely invented/changed up some homunculi in fact im certain they did and shes one of em. gotta be

i feel like 03 wrote ed as much more insensitive towards others than he really is...just a vibe im getting

i know he was faking for the townspeople’s sake but i still get this vibe from other instances 

i mean i cant say its not “canon” because its 03 canon

anyways what a show off

i cant believe theyre going to east...fuery and breda better be there

ok finally some answers on their ages....ed got his license at 12 like normal and nina and youswell were when he was 12...liore was 15, 

if they didnt flash the ages on the screen id be lost honestly

at least we’re back up to “present day”

episode 10: the phantom thief

ed saying he doesnt wanna see mustang

same

03 mustang is activating my fight or flight and im choosing fight

ed cheating at cards totally checks out

um who the fuck is this woman

what is she wearing

SERIOUSLY WHAT IS THAT CUTOUT MAAM HOW DO YOUR C**CHY LIPS NOT POKE OUT

idk but this is fem!hisoka

“hey shouldnt we talk first” after getting handcuffed??? christ almighty these innuendos

siren??????? siren is probably also a “fake” homunculus

ugh

ok so the nurse is siren

ya aint slick girly

alphonse control your crush

I REFUSE!!!! ALMEI RIGHTS

why is al’s hair so brown in this flashback anywayssss

oh its spelled psiren ope

like she’s literally a batman villain...

oh my god...............the tiddy grab. my son would never

my son is respectful

is this her homunculus tat or just a random alchemy tat

the added plotlines and original content continue to confuse and astound me every single time....

ok but if psiren really was doing this for the hospital she wouldnt be so flashy about it. like thats how you get caught sweet cheeks

girly stop flirting with this child on god im gonna fucking kick you

now shes a nun????????????????

Shes a fucking troll i hate her

im going to kick alphonse into the sun 

oh great now shes a teacher

wow shes a savior. the savior of amestrian venice. greatttttt

ed looking exactly like this emoji on this gondola rn 🧍‍♀️

STOP FLIRTING WITH THE CHILD 

GOD THIS IS SO BATMAN VILLAIN ESQUE

alphonse plzzzzzzzzzz she aint your girl

ok so probably not the last we see of this ding dong con artist

ok so its starting to get muddy. im scared the 03 stans are gonna come after me like i do like it and im having fun watching it but some of the plot and characterization choices are just....odd??? idk i gotta keep going though!! im sorry i just stan arakawa and her work in all her glory!!!