#and he still loves me even after I tried really hard to get in-universe guns named rooty-tooty-point-n-shooties

[ceaseless-rambler]

What is dnd for if not making your dm want you dead for your stupid bits. And also flirting with them

[late-to-the-party-81]

When Peter parker's famous boyfriend tony stark returns from a two weeks mission or business trip, he decides to treat him. smut please. Buttom power! peter riding tony

What a boy wants

AN: Well here’s a smutty little ficlet for you. I’ve decided this is set in my 'A place on earth' universe, because why not? As always, aged up Peter Parker.

Not beta’d, so sorry for any rogue commas.

Master list | Series Master list

Summary: If you’d asked Tony yesterday which one of them was ‘in charge’ he would have said it was him, but at this moment he was starting to reconsider that assumption. Peter was fully at the wheel this time and Tony was definitely only along for the ride, something he was getting more comfortable with second by second.

Relationship: Peter Parker x Tony Stark.

Word Count: 1.3k

CW: Explicit Sexual Content, implied use of sex toys, anal sex, cock riding, power bottom!Peter, Nipple clamps, Cream Pie, Clothing disparity.

“Tony!”

Tony had barely stepped out of his suit before the slim, but muscular body of his boyfriend barrelled into him.

“I missed you,” Peter mumbled into his chest.

Tony wrapped his arms around Peter’s frame and rested his cheek on the top of Peter’s dark curls. “Missed you too, baby boy.”

Peter tilted his head and Tony raised his own so he could look down at his angel. “Not as much as I missed you,” came the emphatic reply. Peter’s eyes were deep pools of raw emotion and Tony was so hypnotised by them it took him a moment to realise two things. One, Peter was steering him backwards, a fact that he was only really aware of when the back of his legs hit the couch and he tumbled down onto it. Two, Peter was wearing his short silk robe and only that.

Tony landed on the couch with a soft oomph and immediately Peter was climbing up onto him, straddling his thighs and using his nimble fingers to work at Tony’s fly with a determination bordering on obsessive.

“Hey, baby. Slow down. What’s the rush?” He tried to sit up, but halted when Peter looked at him, one eyebrow raised. 

“Anthony Edward Stark. You’ve been gone for two whole weeks. Since we got together the longest I’ve gone without you filling me up is forty-eight hours.” Peter glanced down as he freed Tony’s cock and licked his lower lip. “I ache for you Mr. Stark.”

Tony’s eyes rolled back as Peter let out the honorific and he started to pump Tony’s cock which didn’t seem to have an issue with getting with the programme, despite the fact that a part of his brain thought Peter was a little shit for pulling out the big guns to get his way.

However, Tony would admit that the way that Peter was so unashamedly going after what he wanted was doing something to him. If you’d asked him yesterday which one of them was ‘in charge’ he would have said it was him, but at this moment he was starting to reconsider that assumption. Peter was fully at the wheel this time and Tony was definitely only along for the ride, something he was getting more comfortable with second by second.

Having brought Tony to full hardness at record speed, Peter let him go and threw off his robe. He was, as Tony had thought, naked underneath, except for a pair of gold and red clamps joined by a chain, which made his small nipples puff up as they squeezed them. Tony couldn’t help but skim his palms up Peter’s sides and then rub his thumbs over the two stiff peaks, watching his lover shudder with sensation, before he stared down at Peter’s straining and dripping cock.

“Petey,” he sighed, full of lust, love and amazement for his boy. Peter leant forward and pressed his lips to Tony’s and Tony lost himself in the sweetness of the kiss, not even registering that Peter had taken hold of his cock again until he felt it being enveloped by a warm wet heat. He jerked in surprise and opened his eyes as Peter groaned and fully seated himself, his eyes still closed.

“Holy shit, Peter. Are you okay?” Tony felt panic and then confusion rise within him. They hadn’t done any prep and there wasn’t any lube in this room, but Peter didn’t feel dry and overly tight - quite the opposite - and Peter wasn’t crying out in pain either. In fact he looked entirely blissed out.

Peter smiled and gently rocked atop Tony’s cock.. “So okay, Mr Stark. Friday told me when you set off for home, so I opened myself up and got myself ready. I’ve been slowly fucking myself with that dildo you bought me for the last thirty minutes. Made my little boy-pussy all wet and slippery, so I could take you in straight away. Almost came so many times, but I’ve been saving it. I needed to feel you inside me.”

Peter lifted himself up and started to fuck himself, and all Tony could do was look up in awe, desperately trying to burn each erotic movement onto his retinas. Peter was resplendent -so self-assured - as he just took his pleasure from Tony’s body. He let out little sighs and moans as he moved up and down and stirred his hips.

“Feels so good, Mr Stark. Love the way you fill me up.”

“Fuck, baby. Where did this dirty mouth come from?” Tony asked, still not fully believing that his sweet boy was being so commanding.

“Been dreaming about you ‘n’ decided I wanted to be selfish when you got back. Just want you to lie there and let me have this. You can take it can’t you, Mr Stark? Just let me ride you and ride you until I want to come?”

All Tony could let out was a garbled moan before he bit his lip, tightening his hands on Peter’s hips as he willed his orgasm to build slower. He wanted to make Peter happy. He always tried to let his boy finish first, but this time it felt even more important that he succeed. He thought that closing his eyes again might help, so he wouldn’t be able to see the erotic  juxtaposition of a naked Peter wantonly riding his own clothed body, but it just made everything worse. All his other sensations were suddenly amplified. Peter’s breathy sighs and the salacious, wet, slapping sound of him taking Tony over and over filled his ears. The exquisite push, pull and squeeze on his cock was the only thing he could feel. It was getting too much.

“Peter,” he whined. “Please. I’m so close.” 

“I’m almost there too, Mr Stark,” Peter replied between pants. “Pull on the chain.”

Tony fluttered his eyes open again, trying to focus on the delicate gold links swaying between Peter’s small but defined pecs. He reached out, snagging the chain between the thumb and first two fingers of his right hand, and gave it a cautious tug. Peter let out a deep moan and his body clenched down, making Tony choke back a cough.

“Again,” Peter commanded. “Harder. And when I come I want you to fuck up into me as hard as you can.”

Tony nodded dumbly and then pulled on the chain again, slowly drawing it back towards him and watching how Peter’s nipples lengthened, until his concentration was broken by Peter’s loud shout and the feeling of Peter’s channel starting to spasm as his orgasm took hold. With Peter’s cum splashing all over his shirt, Tony let go of the chain so he could grip Peter’s hips firmly, plant his feet, and start to thrust up. 

Tony started to come almost immediately. He felt the way his balls drew up and the way his cock swelled inside the tight clutch of Peter’s body. His own cry of pleasure mingled with Peter’s as he rode out a wave that felt never-ending, pouring himself inside of his lover. 

Peter collapsed over him, and Tony shifted his hands so he could stroke Peter’s hair with one hand and his back with the other.

“Damn, Petey,” he gasped out. “That was… Wow!”

Peter lifted his head and opened one eye, looking up at Tony. “You liked?”

Tony dropped a kiss onto Peter’s smooth, unwrinkled forehead. “I loved,” he confirmed.

“Does that mean I can be bossy more often,” Peter asked with a smile.

“Baby boy, you can be as bossy as you like, as often as you like, if that's what comes from it. But for now, I’m gonna lay down the law and say that we need to go and have a shower. I also need to burn this shirt - I don’t think it’s salvageable.”

Peter giggled, his voice bell-like. “It’s a good job you can afford to buy more, because I have a feeling a few others might get ruined.”

“Bring it on, baby. Bring it on.”

Tag list: @doasyoudesireandlive, @endlesstwanted, @marvelstarker-mha98, @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989

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[ikamigami]

What irks me so badly is that the whole situation with people blaming Sun is nothing new, people often blame the victims and not perpetrators when it comes to situations like this, especially when its family, and especially if the perpetrator is their favorite character, their blorbo, or whatever, completely ignoring the fact that said character is doing awful things, literally they invented the character of Hatsune Miku to make fun of fans like that, who blame Sun for the bad stuff that happens to Moon or OG Eclipse despite the fact that its not Sun's fault, at most Sun makes mistakes because he's often left without help and is so thoroughly traumatized by everything he can't think straight, and I do emphasize mistakes since when has he ever done something out of genuine malice? The closest we get is him hunting OG Eclipse, but Eclipse was a genuine threat gunning for the star, which would make him a god, and who was at-large, needed to be stopped, and Moon…You know, the one solely responsible for Eclipse's existence and if anybody is responsible for Eclipse's treatment it would be Moon…Not taking Eclipse as seriously and not fixing the issue earlier or even following Sun to prevent what ended up happening, and Sun killing Moon was a freak accident that he's only partially responsible for, it's so clear through flashbacks and visits to other universes how utterly broken Sun is compared to his old self, that all this trauma and abuse has turned him into a husk, but he still tries so hard to do the right thing even though nobody helps him or respects him, look at all the times Sun tried to peacefully talk Moon down, support and show his love for Moon, forgive Moon for things he really shouldn't forgive Moon for, try to reason with OG Eclipse, and give it his all trying to be good and prevent disasters that Moon or OG Eclipse were usually the cause of, and yet he's blamed for it all instead of the characters, Moon and OG Eclipse, who caused the disaster to begin with, and blame him for the actions of Monty, Foxy, and Puppet, when Sun spoke out against what they were planning for Moon and those three did it anyways without his consent despite trying to force that choice on him, how can somebody look at a character who's life has been mostly, mostly as there have been good moments but that's the exception not the rule, horror show from the day he came online and has been all but powerless to stop, who despite everything never stops trying to do the right thing even though he has no idea what he's doing and never once used the excuse of "snapping" to act greedy or hurtful, and go "it's their fault" and "he just didn't try hard enough"? And people love to say "Earth disowned Moon" which just isn't true, but Sun was still there trying to convince Moon after that to stop what he was doing and refused to make the decision to end Moon's life even when Puppet threatened him, he even decided he was willing to try this one more time when the old Moon returned! After ALL of this! Also wanted to point out that Sun realizing his relationship with Moon was not great and that he doesn't have to be okay with Eclipse is a good thing, he's finally starting to realize he never deserved being used as the universe's chew toy and that he should not be obligated to adhere to that "blood is thicker than water" nonsense considering how badly he's been treated, it should be celebrated that he realizes after all this time that he wants to not be hurt anymore and doesn't deserve to be hurt anymore, and still note how he still doesn't abandon either Moons, even after everything, despite having every right to never want Moon near him again, he still chooses to stay and try again

You're absolutely right, dear anon.

Sun is always trying his best despite everything he went through and is continuously going through.. and also with the knowledge that he has..

If Sun had better idea to how to stop New Moon he'd definitely do it..

No one helped Sun to deal with New Moon's situation..

When Jack was still looking for New Moon.. Sun went to Monty and Foxy but their ideas just weren't helpful.. this whole idea with Bloodmoon attacking Sun to snap New Moon out of this state was stupid and later ideas of Sun and Moon's "friends" were even worse..

But at least they were trying to find Bloodmoon.. so we can't say that no one was trying to do other things.. but also Sun had to find New Moon so 1) he wouldn't be first to find BM or Ruin and 2) he wouldn't hurt himself because there was a high chance that it could happen..

Another thing is that I don't know if the way NM was locked in that cell can count as a solitary confinement.. but if it is then there's much more bigger issue that people forget about because it's not about their favorite which is..

How NM was treating both Eclipse and Ruin.. especially Ruin who was locked similarly to how Old Moon trapped Sun in magic box - they could'nt move at all - but for far longer..

If fans don't consider Ruin's situation as being in solitary confinement I don't see any damn reason how New Moon was in solitary confinement when he's situation was the best out of the three (counting with Sun)..

New Moon's mental state didn't seemingly worsened.. if showrunners wanted to show how NM's state got worse after being locked they did a poor job with that one.. at least with Sun we saw how much worse his mental state got after spending time in magic box..

Even Sun trying to kill Eclipse I personally don't consider as done out of malice because at least to me Sun was very detached from reality due to major psychotic episode..

Sun wasn't aware that what he was doing was and will cause a lot of harm.. New Moon on the other hand was aware that what he was doing was and is causing a lot of harm..

I mean I get it that he was more aggressive but at the same time NM trying to kill Earth isn't justified at all.. like if you're lashing out and hurt everyone because of your mental issues that's a you problem not anyone else's..

I'm tired of people who justify every awful action just because of mental issues and "scary disorders" because this is what further stigmatize mental disorders.. I wish people aknowledged their shit and own up to it and not pretend that they're the victim in every situation even if they were the one who caused the problem in the first place.. and the worst thing is that we're talking about damn fiction.. about damn fictional characters..

I wish that people who suffer from mental disorders stop excusing everything and blaming everything on their mental disorders.. cause most of the time the real problem is that damn egoism.. and damn egotistic personality.. not mental disorders..

Like I think that New Moon's main problem is his selfishness which caused most of the issues in the first place.. not his mental issues..

I hate when people confuse these things.. like NM isn't egotistic because of his mental issues.. like he was always like that.. but people refuse to aknowledge his flaws.. and treat him as if he was saint before he snapped..

Also another important thing is that NM thought that he's treated like a villain due to the fact that he was treating villains very awfully.. but ofc he didn't learn damn thing from it and he didn't think that maybe he was in the wrong this whole time.. but he had to keep going further this stupid path despite knowing that what he's doing is wrong.. he had to decide that he's the villain because he's stupid egotistic asshole..

New Moon didn't even hacking try to fight with himself.. he gave up so quickly because trying very hard to do good thing is hurting him too much..

But let's look at Sun who like you pointed out, dear anon, despite being hurt by most of characters and suffering from depressive psychosis (if you disagree then at least from a mental disorder) still tries to do a good thing.. even if doing these good things and being a better person always cost him more than many would consider it being worth it..

But maybe that's why people blame Sun so much and are often angry mostly at him.. because he's still trying to do good, he doesn't constantly try to find excuses for himself, he always admits to his wrongs, he always apologizes even if he doesn't have to, he gives another chance after another chance despite many broken promises and broken trust, he still feels bad when someone gets killed even if it he's enemy someone who hurt him badly, he still couldn't and didn't give up on any of Moons even if he has every right to and he blames himself for every bad thing that happened even if most of it (almost all of it) isn't his fault at all..

He lives with guilt without shouting out oh how much bad he has and how such a victim he is even if he is a victim in most of these situations.. but doesn't have a victim complex..

And also people like to say that New Moon was learning from bad examples.. but I wonder why they don't apply the same logic to Sun who had only bad examples on how to deal with things.. but apparently only Moons can be excused from anything and Sun can't..

And you're right, dear anon, that it's something worth applauding that Sun is finally realizing that he was in toxic relationship with Old Moon.. that he was hurt even when he didn't do anything to deserve this.. that he deserves to stand up for himself and stand firmly with his boundaries.. and yet like you said.. he still gives another chance to Old Moon.. even if he's still afraid to make Moon angry on accident..

Because sadly I think that Sun blames himself too much for everything (due to his delusions - again you can disagree) and thinks that he deserves to suffer through those bad things, through bad treatment because it was his fault he brought it on himself and everyone else.. he's bad so what good he deserves?

I hope you don't mind, dear anon, things that I added to what you said. I completely agree with you and I wanted to add a few things ^^

[raviosrupees]

LINKED UNIVERSE ZOMBIESS

woooft hey friends, its been a while but LU never left my brain or my heart and i stumbled across a very interesting idea

Zombie Apocalypse AU for Linked Universe.

It could either be modern world or in their world, personally I like the modern world, it offers a lot of interesting tropes.

So minor CW for mention of hospitals, zombies, potential gore, guns and violence, all the stuff that comes with zombie apocalypses, ya know? :P

Hyrule I see being one of the ones closest to the outbreak when it happens, so he's been in survival mode for a while. He's eating anything edible he comes across. Old moldy fruit, dog kibble and water still in toilets are all on his menu. He never stays in any area for long, and often travels through the wilderness from town to town. Extremely skittish, doesn't trust anyone.

Wild woke up in a hospital after being in a coma for a while, and was just completely out of it, barely remembers a thing, and wakes up in a completely empty hospital. Since he basically had no real recovery period, he just goes absolutely feral from day one. Has secret worries he's actually a zombie.

Time works an office job, and has been beaten down with the stresses of modern life for a while now, and as soon as the outbreak happened he left work and headed to his nephews ranch out in Ordon. He feels a bit guilty for relishing in the freedom of it all, how he doesnt have to go to work everyday. Exhausted from trying to keep all these kids alive.

Twilight is out in the middle of nowhere, on his ranch, and wouldn't have even known there was an apocalypse until his uncle came over. Generally completely at peace with the whole thing, with some concern for loved ones, but passive. Until dem blasted zombers went for his goats. Adopts all the stray pets that no longer had homes and takes care of them. Has a full backup generator.

Sky seems like just a silly guy who bumbled his way to safety. Really good at helping the others open up and talk through their issues. When it comes to hand to hand combat though he takes the zombies down easily, and always comes through without a scratch. He's the guy that you'd think would be harmless but is actually a beast. Can tell when danger is coming by reading the signals wild birds give.

Four is an exhausted mechanic, the voice of reason, and is very excited to get to use their skills for more interesting things, ie. hotwiring cars, making bullets, and the creation and repair of other such weapons. Hard to keep track of, has a tendency to disappear and reappear like nothing happened.

Legend is a full on apocalypse prepper. There is nothing you can do to convince me otherwise. His uncle was also a knight/military man, so I think of Legend as a kind of begrudging army brat. He's got the full army bunker with floor to ceiling shelves of medicine, canned food, water bottles, and likely a lot of firearms. Legend strikes me as pretty trigger happy, he's also super paranoid and doesn't really want to share with anyone. Has to be coaxed out of his super secure storm cellar. More scared of losing anyone he tries to protect that anything. Give us more redneck conspiracy theorist comic relief legend.

Warriors is a former military man who lost his squadron in the outbreak and now will do anything to keep his new family alive. He joined military school really young, and it kind of messed him up because it hadn't been what he wanted, so he's really protective of Wind. Always feels insanely bad about killing the zombies, because he still sees them as people.

Wind is a feral child, who said fuck middle school and all this, stole some knives and set off. He's hell bent on finding his sister who ended up at one of the refugee camps. Really good at swiping stuff off other people. Doesn't trust anyone besides War. Helps Legend makes maps of the areas around them, devises neat traps to kill zombies. Surprisingly cold blooded when fighting.

BONUS: They find Ravio after they found themselves in need of supplies and Legend is like, "I know a guy" and takes them to an outpost sort of place where Ravio has a little shop tent set up. Super sleazy, salesman chatting them up for a couple extra caps. Legend is really good at bargaining.

[narrynukezankielover]

Finally finished season 2 (I was putting it off because I really didn’t want to cry since I knew what happened). I LOVED l the season. It’s so romantic with all the touches and looks. It’s amazing. I tried to get my thoughts together so I’m sorry if it’s hard to understand.

Ep 4 is my favourite. It’s what I call the trust ep. It’s easy to trust one another when you both have powers but to literally put your life into another persons hand when neither of you have powers and the person shooting the gun has never shot a gun before takes a LOT of trust and considering it happens on the same day that Aziraphale realizes he loves Crowley I’d say it takes a lot of trust and love. I think the amount of love and trust between them is going to come back big in season 3 (plus Crowley said the miracle that him and Aziraphale did on Gabriel worked a bit too well yet it was just a small miracle. I think they will realize how powerful they are together and that is what will stop the big war. I think they are so powerful because of that love, trust and maybe demon power with angel power.

As for ep 6 it made me think more than any other ep. It also left me with some questions. The Metratron (I don’t know how to spell it) said “one prince falling makes a good news story” so is Crowley the only higher up angel that’s ever went to hell? What happened in the first world war that made Aziraphale use his halo? When Crowley met Furfur and the angel in the wheelchair (I can’t spell her name so I’m not going to try) he said he didn’t know who they were. Whether he’s lying or not it doesn’t make sense that he didn’t pretend to not know the Metratron when he asked him if he knew who he was and when he talked about the last time he seen him Aziraphale knew who he was right away. We also know that they do wipe angels memories if they are being punished. I wonder if when Crowley went to ask god his questions Aziraphale went with him to try and convince him not to ask the questions but he didn’t get to ask her the questions he met the Metratron instead (Crowley did seem a bit jealous that Job got to ask god questions. Plus the Metratron did say something to Aziraphale about Crowley always asking questions) then he was the one that sent Crowley to hell and tried to wipe his memories but maybe Aziraphale stopped it before he lost all his memories because he didn’t want Crowley to forget him. It would explain why he remembers some people but not all people. Maybe I’m over thinking that part.

The last 15 minutes made me bawl even though I knew what was comeing and I’ve seen parts of it online I still bawled. You can tell after the kiss Aziraphale was struggling with his decision (I’m also thinking that kiss was a protection). He wanted to stay with Crowley but he also wants to go to heaven to change things the way him and Crowley think heaven should be ran. Even outside before he gets in the elevator he’s still trying to decide and by the looks of it he was going to go with Crowley until the Metratron said something about the second comeing. All of a sudden Aziraphale knew if he went with Crowley now the universe was screwed. He knew he had to stop all of that from happening. Crowley usually protects him now he had to protect Crowley. When he’s in the elevator you can see him comeing up with a plan. I don’t like some of the hate Aziraphale gets for his decision to go to heaven but if you think about it he has to go to save everything and everyone including Crowley.

[popculturebuffet]

Next up for Nickelodeon era of shows, who is your favorite character from each of the early 2010s Nicktoons shows (where quality got continues to be hit and miss in this batch) you've seen like: Winx Club (Nickelodeon seasons), Kung Fu Panda Legends of Awesomeness, The Legend of Korra, Robot and Monster, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2012, Sanjay & Craig, Monsters vs Aliens 2013, and Breadwinners?

Winx Club: only one here I haven't seen but one I intend to for a project i'm working on combinng a lot of 2000's shows (and some 2010's shows) into one cohesive universe. A friend of mine really likes it.. or at least the pre nick seasons. From what I hear these seasons aren't the best but I really can't say either way.. though I can at least objectively say the concept of the first villian, a merman whose literally powered by toxic waste, is dumb. The idea of the guy himself, an arrogant prince who tried to kill his brother and is a fish man, isn't but why this. I'd worry about stepping on fans toes but the conseus from tv tropes seems to be "this guy bad".

Kung Fu Panda: Legends of Awesomness: Don't really have a faviorite character here, but I thought it was okay. nothing amazing, it at least gave the five more spotlight than the films after 2, but it suffers from what i'm just calling now interquel syndrome: where your making a product specifically to slide in between bits of canon that aren't finished yet, so you can't really have the characters or evolve or change that radically. I have more hope for Tales of the TMNT despite possibly suffering from this simply because the creative team of the films seems involved so there's more synergy while with Kung Fu Panda they basically couldn't really have po or anyone change, which is fine for a status quo comedy show ala the simpsons, but dosen't work for an action show with a first film that's entirely about character development and progress. It's hard to have a show about kung fu mastery where the main character can't progress too much because it might contradict the next movie.

The Legend of Korra: Ladies and gents (And nb's) this is the moment i've been waiting for. Character choice.. Bolin. Not even close. Plenty of great characters here from Asami, who didn't get enough to do, to Varrick, stan pines long lost son, but my baby boy is just the best and is one of the few characters to get a consitently good arc in most of the seasons. While his season 1 had him stuck in the love triangle and his season 2 started with a HA HA ISN'T IT FUNNY BECAUSE IT'S A WOMAN ABUSING A MAN. THAT DON'T HAPPEN bit that made me die a bit inside, his move into the movers was a neat arc. even his stupid bit of sexual harassment was at least a character flaw and not LOOK I MADE A FUNNY BY HAVING THIS GIRL ABUSE A BOY. His arcs ins eason 3, finally finding a functional relationship and a special thing and 4, eventually finding out yes indeed we are the baddies, were great. The show itself is great and I feel gets entirely too much hate. Is it perfect?

Season 1 is a bit messy, trying to cram several seasons of romance drama into 10 episodes and having some bits that don't quite work like Korra's makes it easy getting the rest of her bending back and the half assed tournament arc (Pro bending does slap though) and some bits I get why they don't work for people like the return of blood bending. But I still think it has tons of great character, plotting and the series second best villian in amon.

I'm not one to take the side door so i'll just come up front and knock: season 2 is a shit show. The origins episode is pretty good. Varrick is amazing. But Korra is extra impulsive, Mako is a piece of shit who couldn't make a decision if he had a gun to his head, and Asami is just there despite having a decent arc and personality in season 1. Add in the worst villian franchise wise and the whole ISN'T IT WACKY A MAN BEING ABUSED plot and yeah, season 2 blows

But while as should be clear i'm not in the "the show gets good by season 3" camp, seaosn 1 is still solid just rushed, season 3 is easily the series best with the return of the air benders being a truly wonderful curveball, Bolin finally getting thrown a bone by the universe, finding out more about Toph's family and more screentime for Bumi, whose awesome. It also has some of the franchises best villians with the series getting it's own magneto, a clever soft spoken man who simply wants to make a better world... but will choke whoever he has to to get it.

Season 4 isn't nearly as strong, Kuivera just had an impossible act to follow, but still works as Korra has one hell of a character arc, finding herself after several years of avoiding her problems, having to reconcile with the love of her life and bolin having to reconclie with generally hurting everyone around him. Even Mako, while still cardboard gets a decent arc with the prince. Kuivera isn't amazing, but she does bring out the best in everyone to make a solid finale. She also has a giant fighting robot so there. We also get Toph back whose essentially become yoda and it fits her like a glove. Her terse answers to Korra's enthuastic questions are great as is every moment of her. She's the only one of the gaang to really get to play a full on involved roll (Katara gets an apperance once a book and Zuko shows up once ) and it's glorious. Overall the series is great. I didn't go into this much detail for nothing. That and having to prepare for this since avatar a few entries ago had me primed and ready. I feel the show has a great cast of characters that more than makes up for it's shortcomings and is worth a watch if you loved the original.

Robot and Monster: Robot if only because he's voiced by Curtis Armstrong of Dan Vs fame. I like the designs here, but what I saw of the show is mostly pretty standard nick premise, something that was going around in those days as I ranted about last time. it's not nearly as bad as some of the others, but it dosen't really have anything extra either. it's resoundingly meh.

TMNT 2012: Leo. It was Donnie when I started watching but then he got all stalkery but this leo is intresting: they keep him being the responsible one and leader man, but helped flesh him out. While I love some versions that are the stock bit responsible load bearing brother (03 and IDW), this one has a goofy charm: he watches old sci fi cartoons, takes the job a tad seriously and isn't afraid to joke. Out of the four boys in this series he's the one who feels the most diffrent in a good way and I like that he has to learn to be leader and slowly grow into the roll, but was also the right one for it with splitners little test.

Another one that like Korra I watched and felt like a sign Nick was turning the corner. I twasn't entirely but it was a bright spot at the time and part of a truly great age of animation. The series STARTED strong, season 1 is a banger but the creative team change hurt it a bit. Season 2 did bounce back in my eyes.. but season 3 caused me to fall all the way off, partly because back then I switched from cable.. and partly because their version of northampton was drug out to hell. And I say that with the original comics having the turtles away from new york for a year. I think the impulse was SIMILAR to that, have some wacky tension reducing side adventures.. but the problem is while there the problem was simply "a violence gang threw us out and took away our homes", bad but something they have time to think over, the problem here was "The kranng have taken new york".. and we're spending time with a sasquatch wanting to make out with donie, dream beavers and drag racing. I'll also always be bitter about the irma!kraang thing, as it felt like a waste of a character who tmnt media loves to ignore for some reason despite april amost never having any friends. Give april friends. They also ruined donnie and April

That said while I feel off I can't hate this incarnation: it was essentially a reboot of the 80's cartoon, bringing in a few elements from other sources, but mostly trying to make a serialized more serious show, but still with that goofy energy. And it worked for the most part when it was good and the later seasons seem to have picked things back up after the mess that was season 3 and it has some all time great new characters like bradford and xever, with the latter STILL not having been ported to any other continuity. A solid show that took a bad dive but seemed to end strongly.. then had to do another season but hey.

Sanjay and Craig: THEY MADE IT UP BONG. I'd have to say Megan. Shame they never did anything with her and Sanjay but she was a great side character. The show itself is decent. At itmes it wasn't my forte due to all the gross out, but I still think it was pretty good. I liked having a wing joint as a hangout (I love me some wings) it has a great voice cast, and was pretty fun. Not an all timer but a pretty good show.

Monsters Vs Aliens:

This show sucks. It's clear unlike Penguins and Legends of Awesomeness they weren't given even a modest budget, just a paper clip and a piece of string and it shows and they go with the weird premise of having aliens live with them as wacky neighbors instead of the obvious one of.. just have the monsters fight aliens and other weirdness each episode. You can still make that comedy, easily. Having seen the movie which is decent enough, it's not that hard but they somehow took a pretty damn good premise and made it just boring sitcom stuff. Easily one of my least faviorite nicktoons of all time.. probably not worse than planet sheen, but still not good at all.

Breadwinners:

This one like fanboy and chum chum was seen as the antichrist ast the time. And like fanboy and chum chum.. it's just mid. it's just trying to be the bog standard nicktoon. Unlike fanboy it';s world, while still wacky nonsense is at least a touch more consitant.. but it's your standard two dudes hang out cartoon. While this genre wasn't new (See Sniz and Fondue over on KaBlam or Angry Beavers , both on this very network), regular show did cause more to get greenlit. I don't think this nor sanjay and craig as they were accused are outright trying to rip off regular show. Both of these have more of a ren and stimpy vibe.. but unlike sanjay and craig which has it's own weird perspective this ones weird perspective just isn't entertaning or fun. I think I could dig it if it were actuallyf unny or batshit enough but it's neither. IT's just.. boring.

[ch4tk4t]

Comics Fangirl n°6 - Fangirl SMASH!

Plot by Al Ewing

Art by Joe Bennett, Ruy Jose & Paul Mounts

This review is about Immortal Hulk issue 1/2018

Annnnd we're BACK! Who said "not again"?

Today, we talk about one of my favorite comics run EVER.

The Jade Giant was never a personal favorite. Contrary to Iron Man though (seriously, y'all really like this character that much???) I at least saw the appeal. I remember reading from the "Hulk encyclopedia" I had as a kid that Stan Lee based his interpretation of the character as a mix between Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde and Frankenstein's monster, two book I had already read and enjoyed by then (I was a even bigger nerd back then). I always had a pretty good idea of what kind of stories where possible with this character.

Immortal Hulk still hit me pretty hard once I finally started reading it.

At this point in the Marvel universe, Bruce Banner was dead, killed by his friend Clint Barton, better known as (one of the) Hawkeye. I'd explain why, but, we'd still be there for about a month or two.

Aside from the fact that most Marvel heroes don't stay dead for long, this never stopped the Hulk before.

The comic starts at a gas station in the middle of nowhere. A girl enters the station to get something to drink. Inside, aside from the cashier, stands a man flipping through a magazine. His gaze follows her as she goes to get her drink. She notices and calls him a creep.

A third man enters the station, and the cashier doesn't even lift up his eyes from the magazine he's reading, asking the newcomer which pump he's here to pay for. Turns out it's a withdrawal, not a deposit that the masked man is looking for. He draws a gun on the cashier, and the little girl drops her drink out of surprise.

The masked man panics and shoots the other two occupants, then runs away, passing by the girl's mother who was waiting outside...

A policewoman is on the case, sharing what she knows with a journalist. All the while, the body of the mysterious man, who flashed green for a second before getting shot in the face, starts moving in the morgue...

The masked man is now in a gang hideout, explaining to the man he owes money to, what happened in the station. His creditor doesn't seem to be that torn up about his confession. He tells them he still owes him money, and sends him away, saying words that become instant ironic foreshadowing.

Everybody in the room falls silent as the loud sound of something landing somewhere nearby shakes the room. The gang members rush outside to understand what happened to the lights, only to find their generator crumpled up, as if it was made of paper.

The gang tries to keep it together and defend themselves, but as the masked man from the station runs out, he can hear the cries of every gang member in a mix of fear, pain and surprise. He rushes to his car dropping his keys in his panicked state.

He realizes the sounds of struggle have stopped. The night is silent. He looks behind him and sees nothing.

He turns back to his car...

The Hulk isn't violent at first, preferring to only force the man to face the consequences of his actions by citing the girl from the station's name.

The masked man, after trying to shoot down the Hulk, grovels at his feet, begging for his life, saying he has a DAUGHTER.

The comics ends with the policewoman on the case updating her journalist collaborator. The killer was hand delivered to them, not dead, albeit in a pitiful state. She makes it clear she as very little doubt about who the mysterious man who walked out of the morgue is.

Somewhere, Bruce Banner asks the same question the killer did when confronted with the Hulk

So starts the "Immortal Hulk". It's a really strong start in my opinion. The tone is just perfect, and the fact this Hulk speaks distinctly and eloquently makes him even more terrifying. The run went on for a while, and I loved every page. If you liked this, you're going to love the rest, and I'm not saying that because there's a cool trans woman scientist later on in the story :3

I give this issue a RickJones/10

Speak to you later, true believers!

Fangirl out.

[thefloorisbalaclava]

the proposal [the grand tour au]

Pairing: Javi Gutiérrez x F!Reader

Words: 1,447

Warnings: Spoilers from TUWOMT (I will put the fic under a cut because it starts with spoilers!), dangerous situations, gun mention, some naughty talk, nervous Javi.

Summary: Javi finally asks the question he’s been wanting to for months.

A/N: This is will be broken down into 3 parts - Proposal, wedding, honeymoon. It is all part of the five part The Grand Tour universe!

A few months into your stay in Spain things began to fall apart. Not necessarily for you and Javi, but for Javi and his family, if you could even call Lucas that.

The U.S. government was after Javi and he had sworn to you that he had no part in the arms dealing that most of his family took part in for years. Javi Gutiérrez, the most ruthless man in Spain, did not exist. His cousin, Lucas, was the ruthless one and his eyes were on you.

The night Javi snuck you off the compound, he wouldn’t answer any of your questions until you arrived at the safe house.

“Javi, would you please tell me what is going on?” you begged, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“You…you have to stay here until I know you are no longer in danger. Lucas has threatened me…and you,” he told you and you sat up straight.

“What?”

Javi had tears in his own eyes now. “I have to leave you here.” He got out of the jeep and grabbed your bags from the back.

“Javi wait!” you shouted but he just kept moving. “Javi!” You ran after him into the house which hadn’t been lived in in years. You grabbed his arm and he finally turned to you, one tear rolling down his cheek. He dropped your bags and pulled you into his arms.

“I’m so sorry,” he cried. “You should not be involved in this.”

“Javi…don’t. What are you gonna do?” you asked and he pulled back to look at you.

“I have to take care of this,” he told you and you shook your head.

“No. Absolutely not!” You gathered the material of his shirt in your fists. “No…” you cried.

“I have to. I will have no quality of life until Lucas is no longer here…until I know you will be safe.”

“Please don’t leave me, Javi,” you begged. “Please.”

“I will come back for you. I promise,” he whispered. He kissed you and a small whimper escaped him before he pulled away without looking back. He couldn’t look back or it just might have killed him. Your sobs were loud enough for him to hear as he climbed back into the jeep and he tried to drown them out with the radio.

A FEW MONTHS LATER

Every day you waited for news, good or bad. Every day you yearned for Javi, your Javi, the one you had fallen for and would do anything to have in your arms again.

Javi couldn’t drive fast enough. He was beaten up, shot, bloody, and in pain, but he was high on adrenaline and high on the thought of seeing you again.

He screeched to a halt in the driveway and ran to the door and pounded on it.

“Mi amor, are you there? It’s me! It’s Javi!” No answer. To truth was you were hiding in another room, afraid that someone might be playing a trick on you. “I’m coming in,” he said, opening the door slowly.

“Don’t come any closer,” you cried, holding the gun with shaky hands.

“Where did you get-”

“Javi?” you cried. “Javi!” You ran right into his arms, sobbing. “It’s really you.”

“It’s me, my love. It’s me.”

“Never let me go again,” you murmured.

PRESENT DAY

Javi watched you sleep for a while. He still woke up some mornings afraid that you wouldn’t be there but you always were. He looked down at the little black box in his hand and sighed.

“You’re up early,” you said sleepily and he jumped, slipping the box in to the pocket of his robe.

“Yes. I could not sleep,” he said.

“Another nightmare?” you asked, crawling up behind him and wrapping your arms around him.

“Not this time, no.” He kissed your arm and you kissed his cheek.

“Good.”

“May I ask you something?” He turned his head to look at you.

“Anything.”

“Do you still want to stay with me? Even after everything that has happened?” His was beating so hard.

“Yes. I already told you I’m not going anywhere. Is that what’s been bothering you?” You climbed off the bed and stood in front of him. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on your stomach.

“I’m so worried,” he said quietly. You ran a comforting hand through his curls.

“I told you I’m —”

“No, not that…” The small box in his pocket felt like it weighed a ton. “I’m so worried you’ll say no.”

“Say no? Say no to what?”

“To this…” He finally reached into the pocket of his robe. His hand shook as his fingers rested on the little box. He looked up into your eyes and exhaled. You looked down at him with nothing but love in your eyes and he saw it, he felt it. He saw his future in your eyes. He took the box out of his pocket.

“I have never done this before. Um…” He opened the box and you gasped. “I never thought I would meet someone like you…someone who made me feel worthy of love. I would be a fool to let you go. So…I am asking…” He moved off the bed and onto one knee.

“Will you marry me?”

“Javi…yes! Yes, I will! I’ll marry you!”

“Yes?” he cried. “You said yes!” He struggled to get the ring out of the box and onto your finger. “I…can get you a better ring if you don’t like it…”

“Get up here!” you cried, barely letting him get to his feet before kissing him. “Did you really think I would say no?” You wiped the tears from his cheek.

“After everything that has happened, I wouldn’t be surprised if you had,” he admitted. “I asked you to stay and it only put you in danger.”

“But I’m okay. We both are. Every couple has its ups and downs,” you said and Javi looked at you before you both burst into laughter.

“Ups and downs you say? I think we have been through more than that,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, but…I’m here and I’m staying put.” You looked at the ring on your finger, tears filling your eyes again.

“Are you sure you want to become Mrs. Gutiérrez?” he asked.

“You know what? I have never been more sure of anything ever,” you told him. He kissed you deeply and pulled you down onto the bed with him. “I gotta tell everyone,” you gasped.

“That can wait, no?” he asked.

“It can,” you murmured against his lips.

“Good. I would like to have a private celebration of our engagement before we tell anyone else,” he hinted.

“Oh? What did you have in mind?” you asked coyly.

“How about I show you instead of tell you?” Javi asked playfully, rubbing his nose against yours.

“Well, I do wanna see what my hand looks like around…” You held your hand up and looked at the ring.

“Around?” Javi tilted his head with a smirk.

“Come closer…” You ran your fingers through his curls as you whispered in his ear. You couldn’t see his face but his eyes were rolling back as you told him what you wanted to do. “…so you can feel the ring as I…”

“God…woman…” He kissed your ear then nibbled it, grinding against you. “You are the only one who can make an engagement ring that…delicious.”

“I feel the same way about your pinky ring,” you told him.

“Oh, really? You naughty girl,” he chuckled. He lifted himself off you and you pouted. “Do not make that face. I am only going to get some champagne. I am sure while I am gone you will think of something interesting to do with that as well.” He winked and you giggled.

You looked at the ring on your finger again then grabbed a pillow to scream and squeal into. You couldn’t believe it.

“Mrs. Gutiérrez. Mrs. Javi Gutiérrez.” You loved the way it sounded. “Hello everyone. I am Mrs. Gutiérrez,” you practiced.

“It sounds good,” Javi said as he walked back into the bedroom with a bottle of his most expensive champagne and two glasses.

“It sounds perfect.”

He joined you on the bed again. “Are you truly happy, my dear?” he asked.

“I am. I am beyond happy,” you assured him. You both smiled at each other. “I love you, Javi.”

“And I love you.” He popped the cork on the champagne and you squealed. He poured two glasses. “To you…saying yes.” He held up his glass for a toast.

“To us,” you said.

“Yes, to us.” He tapped his glass to yours as his eyes filled with tears. “Us.”

[to-star-lake]

one & only

sanzu haruchiyo x f!reader { you're sanzu's one and only. }

18+ minors dni | murder, drug use, dark themes, rough sex, choking, toxic relationship, character death, bonten sanzu

a/n: sanzu's name { 三途 } is written the same as 三途の川 { sanzu-no-kawa, “river of three crossings” or “sanzu river” } which is the japanese buddhist version of the river styx.

sanzu doesn't call you his girlfriend. he'd never use such pedestrian language to describe what you are to him. soulmate is closer. but still, to take everything he felt about you and edit it down to a single word? it wouldn't be possible.

the best he could describe it is perhaps that you were made for him.

the day mikey introduced you to the other executives as bonten's newest advisor, sanzu stood in the back of the room, unconsciously biting his lip as he stared at your clean and crisp white tee shirt, tucked neatly into a pair of black slacks. your perfect skin. your shiny hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. your delicate hands. and the sharp glisten of your eyes. you looked so sincere.

a top scholar and graduate of the national university. your parents had been foreign diplomats. you spoke five languages. all this brilliance packaged neatly behind such a pretty face. oh, you were so perfect. so pristine. i'll make you regret playing with monsters, little princess. sanzu thought he couldn't wait to break you.

it didn't take him long to realize how wrong he was.

he'd stare at your hands, the ones he thought were so delicate, as they beat mercilessly into the skull of a traitor that lay limp beneath you. being a bonten advisor meant you never needed to get your hands dirty. but you didn't mind. and sanzu felt a trickling heat of excitement shimmy up his spine watching the blood splatter across your perfect skin, staining your clean shirt.

he'd listen in awe in the war room as your fingertips traced gracefully over blueprints of the city, and you'd describe plans for a new building downtown. a new shell business to run money through. a merger with a smaller, weaker gang simply as a means to procure disposable foot soldiers for mikey.

on one particular night, he'd sat back and watched you, transfixed, as he pulled the car up beside a dark tinted suv at a stoplight on a deserted street on the outskirts of shinjuku. you'd pointed your gun out the open window, so fast and precise on the trigger, taking out all the passengers in the car. he would've missed the shots with a single blink.

he couldn't recall all the details of the rest of that night. but he woke to find you in his bed the next morning, your naked body tucked comfortably under his sheets beside him.

his head pounded and he tried to remember what happened but all that he could recall were a series of blurred images. of the two of you leaving the war room together after receiving orders from mikey to take out the heads of a rival gang. a vision of your bare thighs, exposed under a short, plaid skirt as you sat in his passenger seat, and the quiet rattle as you attached a silencer to the end of your gun.

he remembered the sound of indistinct chatter and an image of you sitting across from him in a dimly lit restaurant. a vague recollection of a bottle of scotch, of him staring at himself in the restaurant's bathroom mirror as he wiped some white residue from his upper lip. of you, bent over the sink with a straw in your nose. a blurred reel of your legs wrapped around his waist, of him pushing you up against the mirror so hard the glass cracked and you moaned into his open mouth. you sounded as sweet as you tasted.

in the grey winter light here in his bed, he looked at the blotches of blue and purple bruises that lined your neck and chest. at the edge of your perfect lips, a little swollen and the skin a little cracked. at the indentation of teeth marks on your shoulder, red with coagulated blood under the surface.

your eyes fluttered open and for a moment he was afraid. afraid that the cold light of day would be too harsh for you. afraid that all that was mystifying and beautiful in the night would be destroyed by the light. afraid you would leave.

but you'd looked into his eyes for a moment, and your lashes fell closed and you'd snuggled into his side, languidly dragging your arm across his chest.

let's sleep a little more, my head hurts and we still have at least another hour before we have to go meet the others.

oh, your voice sounded so sweet, still raspy with sleep, a lullaby to his ears.

as bonten leaders, he knew a relationship with you was strictly forbidden. he knew what mikey would do if he or any of the others ever found out. and he knew you knew too.

but you simply shrugged your shoulders as you picked up your clothes that were scattered across the floor of his bedroom. like you knew what he was thinking, and said i'm not afraid of them. are you?

he'd laughed at himself then. just who was corrupting who? he wondered.

the time he had with you began to envelope his heart. and the love he felt for you; small, crackling embers at first, had grown into a fire so bright and wild and twisted it could not be extinguished.

you were his partner; his chosen one. he loved the way your knuckles looked when they were bruised and red; such a beautiful contrast against your delicate and soft skin. he loved the way your fingers graced the handle of your gun, the dead calm of your eyes when you pulled the trigger. he was intoxicated with the knowledge that you were watching every time he carried out his duty as executioner.

his infatuation with you burned in his chest when he'd glance up at you, standing in the distance, eyes fixed on him and you'd slowly drag the palm of your hand up your thigh; testing his willpower to not pin you to the ground and tear you apart right then and there in front of his men.

under the cover of darkness, the two of you came alive. going on sprees, speeding through the bright streets of tokyo, the lights around you a blurred spectral of color to your bloodshot, medicated eyes.

in the midnight hours, your bodies would be intertwined, and in your arms he found a sanctuary. your body was the most addicting drug of all. you made all the pain disappear.

the quiet hours of the early morning, when time teetered on the edge of night and day, he'd lay on your chest, and for just a little while, his world would fall quiet. the air around him felt still. he would be coming down from his high, and he could feel everything. but he didn't mind. these small hours of lucidity shone brilliantly in his mind. when he could hear your breathing. feel your heartbeat so vividly beneath your bones. smell the lingering and sweet scent of your skin on his.

he'd become so possessed by you, so possessive of you that one night when he had you laid out beneath him, your legs spread wide for him, and he thought you looked so beautiful like this. so perfect like this for him. your skin, slick with a layer of sweat, luminescent in the moonlight. your lips, parted and choking out shaky pleas for him, begging him not to stop.

he buried himself so deep inside you, nails clawing into your skin, so desperate to be one with you. and he thought no one, no one else would have you like this. he was so intoxicated by the medley of pills in his system, completely unhinged in the euphoria of being inside you, he'd reached for his gun on the nightstand and held it to your forehead, point blank between your eyes.

you didn't even flinch. he watched you knock the gun from his hands, and slide your fingers up his wrists, and pulled his hands to your neck, letting him wrap them around your throat. if you're gonna kill me, do it with your own hands, you'd said.

god, he loved you so much. he wanted you so much, he needed you so much. he'd closed his hands around your neck with the gentlest force and watched your eyes roll back.

say my name, he'd command. and when you did, he closed his hands more forcefully around your delicate neck so he could feel the vibration in your throat as you choked out his name over and over. you'd clenched down so tight around him and he came harder than he ever had, collapsing into you.

he'd slowly let go of you, chest heaving, and gently caress at the skin of your neck, red and starting to bruise.

y/n...if i died, would you die with me? he'd whisper into your skin.

mmh, yeah. you'd whisper back.

i don't want anyone else to have you. i want you to be mine forever. he'd kiss the corner of your lips.

he'd feel your fingers laced up into his hair, your legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him close.

what am i going to do with you...i might really kill you one of these days.

he'd lift his head to look at you. and your expression didn't change a bit. your eyes held the same resolve they always did, and you said, then i'll wait for you by the sanzu river.

this was what flashed through his mind when he walked into one of bonten's warehouses late one evening for a meeting of the executives, and he saw all of them standing in a circle around you, bound and tied, blood streaming from your hairline, your bruised body limp on the concrete.

he fell to his knees then, watching mikey shove the end of his gun against your temple.

did you think i wouldn't find out? mikey's thumb clicked down on the hammer.

he saw your eyes flutter open and find his. you smiled.

the muzzle flash was bright, and the shot rang through the dark, open space.

he stared at the blood pooling from the side of your head into the dust. he felt a single tear roll down his cheek. shit, am i really crying right now? he laughed at himself.

WHO ARE YOU LOYAL TO, SANZU?! mikey demanded.

i'll wait for you by the sanzu river. your words echoed in his mind.

mikey may have been his king. but you were the redeemer, his messiah, his salvation.

the choice was simple.

he pulled his own gun from its holster and held it up to his temple.

i'm on my way, love.

[carlosfruitsnacks]

"lies for love" - part 2

PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5

summary:

— Camilo continues to stalk the rival CEO's daughter, however, he must get rid of her. As he steadies his sniper, Camilo looks through the scope only to see the girl he's in love with and his twin brother, Carlos, with his hand wrapped around her waist. 

genre:

— mafia-au & aged-up

notes:

— female reader. I do not speak fluent Spanish and all of the Spanish here is translated from google, feel free to correct me.

warning/s:

— mentions of violence & foul language/cussing

a/n:

— aight part 2 and we got some drama, enjoy!

Uncountable sleepless nights flew by. Camilo felt incredibly restless. After his discovery of these feelings he held for the girl who was the daughter of their rival, he couldn't get it out of his head. Her face, her smile, and the sound of her voice haunted Camilo to no end. It felt like the universe is playing cruel tricks on him for wanting her.

Camilo's shift of behavior doesn't go unnoticed by Señor Fernando. The man was worried for him and Camilo didn't know how to explain his situation. Obviously, he shouldn't tell him that he was falling for the girl he's tasked to get rid of. Yet Camilo feels bad for lying and keeping a secret from him.

It has been also several days since Camilo saw Carlos' face, not that he's bothered about it too. His brother has been responding to his texts anyways, though he would always not answer the call whenever Camilo would ring him. Even though they have drifted apart, Camilo wanted to seek Carlos for advice. He trusted his twin brother enough to know about this.

No matter how hard Camilo tried to avoid it, the walls are closing in and he needed to act. Fernando has been bombing him with questions about the rival CEO's daughter, specifically if he finally performed the hit on her. Camilo didn't know long he could stall because of the growing emotions he had towards the girl. It was pathetic really, Camilo was in love with a girl he's not supposed to have. Though this makes him want her more that's why he keeps stalking her from time to time.

"What is wrong with me?"

Camilo muttered and buried both of his hands in his hair, he rubs his face and sighed. He puts on his jet-black clothes and prepares his gear, he needed to do it or Fernando would notice, he didn't want to cause any complications. He gathers his bag and grabs his sniper gun. Camilo must move past his emotions and finish his task, this wasn't about feelings it was about business.

It was a cold evening when Camilo ventured nearby the building that [Name] would be it, he heard about her attending a private party so it was a perfect opportunity to strike. He keeps her locked in his view on top of the rooftop, but he's also beyond distracted. She had a crimson red dress on that had a slit exposing her smooth leg. Camilo gulped, he was tempted. Her hair was fixed and she has jumbo jewelry on, her makeup was dark but the smile on her face was bright. She was twirling a glass of wine in her hands.

"Mierda"

Camilo cussed. He's hidden in the shadows, ready to kill her but then she pulls a stunt like this. He clenches his fists and sharply inhales, this wasn't supposed to be hard. Fuck him and his ability to gain feelings so fast. Yeah, he has moved on from his past relationship but here he is now longing for another. 

"No, no, Camilo you have to do it. You need to do it"

He encourages himself. After a few seconds, Camilo assembles his sniper. He puts on a serious face and peeks through the scope, he searches and locks his gaze on you. It took all of his sheer power to not get distracted again. Camilo carefully breathes and slides his finger to the trigger.

She was still chatting with a few people, luckily the conversation ends as she walks to an open balcony. It was the perfect spot to perform the hit, but Camilo waits a few seconds to make sure the coast was clear. [Name] was peacefully looking at the evening sky when Camilo slowly begins to pull the trigger, the scope directed to her head, guaranteed about the kill.

But Camilo stops when he notices a hand snaking around her waist.

The air gets sucked out of his lungs when he blinks twice, he gulped and looked closely through the scope again as he lets go of the trigger. [Name] was facing away from him and now talking to a man, he looked awfully familiar. A maroon suit and tie, curly auburn hair, a teasing smile...wait.

"...Carlos?"

Camilo whispers. It felt so surreal, there was no way he was seeing this clearly. Even if he blinked way too many times, when he looks through the scope, Carlos was still there with her. His chest grew tight as he brings his hand to his mouth. He hesitantly looks through his scope again and he almost collapses.

Carlos Madrigal, his twin brother was making out with [Name] [Surname], the rival CEO's daughter.

"¡Ese de puta madre!"

Camilo cusses out loud. He merely destroys his sniper but he collects himself. The revelation gave him a nasty flavor in his mouth, it would be impossible to brush it off. He couldn't help but look again through the scope. Sure enough, his brother is still there with her, smiling and keeping her close in his arms.

"What the fuck?"

He rubs his face, he felt warm tears building up in his eyes. Camilo couldn't describe what he was feeling, angry? sad? betrayed? Maybe it was the mixture of all of it and it wasn't nice. Immediately, he sees Carlos in a new light. Instead of telling Señor Fernando what he found, Camilo dials his brother's phone. He spies again through the scope.

He watches Carlos letting go of [Name]'s waist and went to get his phone from his pocket. She grabs his shoulder, Camilo holds his phone against his ear, waiting for him to answer. However, when Carlos sees who was calling, he quickly shuts off his phone. Camilo's eye twitches when the other line goes straight to voicemail. Carlos just ignored his call and continued kissing [Name].

Camilo collects his things and returns back to his hotel room, completely bailing the mission out of pure rage. He couldn't shake off the fact Carlos is out and about seeing this girl who was their rival's daughter, didn't he care for the business at all? Camilo frowns remembering Carlos' hand on [Name]'s waist, he can feel his heart falling apart from the sight of it. He felt so horrible for falling in love with her, the worst part was that he still loves her even if his brother has his hands on her waist.

While all alone in his room, Camilo finds himself in a predicament. His emotions were all over the place, making it hard to create decisions. But what he was aware of is the twisted way Carlos was betraying the business behind their backs. So, Camilo fetches his phone and types a message to his brother.

: Meet me tomorrow at the parking lot, got something important to say

Carlos: K.

It was ridiculous how Carlos was quick to respond to text messages instead of calls, Camilo scoffed. If only Señor Fernando knew that he wasn't occupied with business because he's busy locking lips with a girl who happens to be their rival's daughter. Camilo wondered how long has he been sneaking this behind their backs. Was it before he returned to the business or was it recent? Nonetheless, even if he didn't know the time period when Carlos began secretly seeing [Name], he knew what he did was fucked up and Camilo has to discover it at the wrong time.

Footsteps echoing in the parking lot catch Camilo's attention, he turns his head to see Carlos approaching him to his car. The latter meets his brother leaning against his black Ferrari with hands in his pockets and a scowl very similar to his. Carlos can't help but forget they're twins after all. He nods his head at him.

"Oye hermano, you said you had important to say. Better make it quick because I have a business meeting at-ARRRRGH!"

Carlos stumbles back when Camilo unexpectedly delivers a punch across his face, he hated to admit that it was a good hit. He gazes at his brother with wide eyes, he can feel the blood dripping down his nose.

"The fuck was that for, cabrón?!"

"You fucking snake"

Camilo spits out with venom. Carlos was taken aback by this but puts on a firece face, he decides to hear out what his twin has to say before punching him back. Camilo points a finger at him.

"You think nobody will find out that you're slithering behind our backs, huh?"

"Dios mio, what is this about you petty bitch?"

"Aww, need a hint? How's that party you went to last night when you said you're going to monitor the next shipment?"

Carlos quickly goes rigid, he furrows his eyebrows at Camilo. His mouth goes dry as he searched his brain for any sort of comeback.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?"

"Did you enjoy the party, Carlos? Did you enjoy sneaking off and shoving your tongue down [Name]'s throat?"

Camilo sends a bitter smile at Carlos, whose face was filled with horror. The way Carlos' face confirmed that everything he saw through the scope was true brought a heavy weight to his chest.

"How...you saw nothing, Camilo"

"Oh please, I'm not fucking blind, Carlos. It was clear as day! You're having an affair with our rival's daughter!"

"¡Oye cállate! Boss might hear you!"

"Wow, hermano. What? Are you fucking scared Fernando's gonna kick your ass out of the business because I think you deserve it"

The way Camilo has him pressed under his thumb was irritating Carlos. So, without thinking rationally, he lets his frustration get the best of him by punching his brother on the face. Camilo yelps when Carlos tackles him to the ground and continues to beat him. The ache that he was experiencing was no match to his brother's beating.

Eventually, Camilo sneakily grabs his gun hidden on his hip and pulls it against Carlos' temple, the latter stops with a raised fist. Camilo clicks the gun and placed his finger on the trigger, warning his brother. Carlos gulps and quietly gets off of him.

"You fucking bastard"

Camilo gritted his teeth at him, he spits out the blood from his mouth and unlocked the door to his car. Carlos glared at him, the guilt and anger was visible in his eyes. Camilo keeps his gun pointed at him, he can feel the bruise and wounds on his face burning.

"I've always thought you had my back, but it turns out the world is filled with dissapointments"

Camilo said before entering his car and turning on the engine, Carlos sucked in a breath as he watches his brother's car drive away. All of a sudden, he lets out a loud groan.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

Carlos cursed in the air. He never saw it coming, he never expected for someone, especially his brother to find out his secret. It was going to be a huge conflict, and he can't afford Señor Fernando knowing about it. He can't stand letting his lies be identified. Abruptly, Carlos springs to action and takes out his phone, contacting a number. He gets into his car and the other line picks up.

"Yes, darling?"

"[Name], amor, we need to talk right now, I'll pick you up"

"Oh, okay. I'm at the cafe"

"Alright, stay there until I arrive"

He softly hangs up and starts his car, he pulls out of the parking lot and into the driveway. Carlos thought about her, he can feel his worry overpowering his frustration. Now that Camilo knows his secret, he can't be so sure that Camilo won't finish the mission he's given. Carlos can't let Camilo kill her, he'll do anything to protect her if it means going against his own brother.

taglist: @pochi-moochika , @cahmilo , @vanevafu , @irisia-ckzkb1109 , @elegantkidfansoul , @candykamikun , @justzei , @try-cry-why-try , @nanaisheretomessupthings , @eichenhouseproperty ...join here

masterlist

[sortasirius]

Dean Winchester be like:

I hate myself because it’s what my father taught me to do.  I hate myself because it’s a defense mechanism.  I use sarcasm to cover up the fact that I believe I am worthless.  I raised my brother into a good man, that’s the only good I’ve ever done.  I’ve saved some people, they don’t say thank you, but that’s okay.  I wish I could have been the man my father wanted me to be.  I break everything I touch.  All the people I love I end up killing or leaving me.  I am broken.  I don’t do romantic love, it’s asking for me to get my heart broken, more broken than it already is.  I sold my soul to a demon so I could save my brother, because he’s the best thing I ever did, the only good thing.  I’m afraid to go to Hell, but I pretend I’m not, because what’s the alternative? 

Hell proved that I was the person I always knew I was, a bad person, willing to torture to get out of pain.  I met an angel, he’s not like I thought.  He’s a soldier, like me, he’s taking orders from a father he can’t see.  He starts out as an ally, but he’s different than the others, they say he likes me.  He’s awkward, he stands too close to me sometimes.  I started the Apocalypse because I wasn’t strong enough.  My brother is going down the wrong path, and I don’t know how to stop it.  The angels tell me Lucifer has to rise, but the one that pulled me out of Hell disobeys to help me stop it.  I think I should consider him a friend.  Lucifer rises anyway. 

The angel is on the run from Heaven, he’s a good guy, I like him a lot, more than I think I should.  I don’t know what to do, if I say yes to Michael, we can save some people.  Maybe I’ll get to know peace, maybe my father will be proud of me then.  The angel and my brother are angry at me, but I’ve always been a coward, they just don’t know it.  But they know me best, I can’t say yes to Michael if it means disappointing them. 

My brother goes to the cage with Lucifer and Michael, the angel disappears, and I’m left to pick up the pieces, living a life I feel like I stole from somebody else.  I always sleep with a gun and holy water under the bed, even though I know every entrance is secure.  My brother comes back, but he’s different now, he’s not the same, I should have looked for him.  I feel guilty.  We found out his soul is gone, his soul, his soul.  The angel is back, but he’s no real help.  I kill myself to speak to Death, who brings back his soul in exchange for me playing Death, where I learn a few hard lessons. 

I find out the angel has been working with our enemies.  Why does it feel like my heart is broken when he won’t meet my eyes?  I leave him to the demons, but not before one last look.  I’m not sure why.  The idiot, he ends up dying trying to get souls from Purgatory, desperate to win his war in Heaven.  Why does everyone leave me?  The Leviathan are out there, a new threat.  At least I know how to kill, so I won’t have to think about the muddy trenchcoat in the trunk of my car.  I lose the closest thing I have to a father with a bullet to the brain.  I feel like I’m spinning out of control.  My brother loses his mind.  The angel comes back, he doesn’t recognize me, that hurts.  When he does remember me, I tell him we need him, but I really mean that I do. 

I get sent to Purgatory, I meet a vampire turned ally turned new best friend, but I won’t leave without the angel, I can’t leave without the angel.  We find him, he was running from me, why does everyone run from me?  We make it out of Purgatory, the angel gets left behind.  It turns out my brother didn’t look for me.  Why am I so dispensable?  The vampire is the only one I can trust now.  I dream about the angel, about the way I couldn’t save him.  I feel like I can’t save anyone these days.  I see the angel in the air around me, am I going crazy?  But then he shows up behind me, why do I care so much about him?  I don’t even care where he came from, as long as he’s here.  My brother takes on trials, they start to hurt him.  We find a place to call home.  I’ve never had my own bedroom before.  The angel is distant, I wish I could reach him.  He doesn’t answer my prayers.  He and I find the angel tablet, he hits me.  I tell him I need him, never able to tell him that I think I might love him too.  He snaps out of it then walks out of my life again.  I wish I was lovable.  I almost lose my brother to the trials, he has to know I can’t lose him, he’s all I’ve got.  The angels fall, I wonder about my angel, if he’s alright. 

My brother is dying, and I make a deal with an angel to save him.  My angel says he’s a good guy, and I’m too desperate to vet him properly.  I watch my angel, now a human, die in front of me, the angel in my brother saves him, it’s one of the only times I’ve ever put someone else over my brother.  I feel guilty about that.  I have to kick my angel out, it tears me in half to do it, but I have to protect my brother.  I watch the angel from a gas station window, I try to find the courage to go see him.  I use humor to hide how much I miss him.  My brother finds out about the angel, which cost the life of a kid I was supposed to protect, he’s so angry at me.  Well, I deserve it this time.  I take the Mark of Cain to defeat Abaddon, it can’t be all that bad.  I start to lose my grip on myself.  My angel gives up an army for me, and it’s the closest I feel to being me in months. My brother and my angel try to stop it, but it’s too late.  I die in my brother’s arms.

I wake up with black eyes.  I don’t care about anyone, anything.  There’s a tiny part of me that’s screaming to wake up, but I drown him out easily enough.  My brother finds me, says he wants to cure me.  I don’t want it, I don’t want to be me, not feeling is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.  They do cure me though, my brother and my angel, and waking up from the blackness is like surfacing from deep water.  For a while, I feel loved.  But after what I did, I don’t feel like I deserve it.  I’m still not me, and when my friend, who I loved like a sister is taken, I go off the deep end again. It’s too easy, but violence is all I know.  The angel tries to stop me.  I have him where I want him, a blade to the heart and this is all over.  But I still can’t kill him, I still can’t kill the angel.  Death tells me I have to kill my brother.  I almost do it.  But killing Death releases me, and I’m me again.  Sometimes I still wish I wasn’t.

I have this connection to this Darkness.  It scares the hell out of me.  I wish I understood it, I wish I could stop it.  Am I pulled towards the Darkness because I, myself, am darkness?  Is it because I am, because I’ve always been bad?  I lose the angel to Lucifer himself, how did I not notice until it was too late?  Why would he leave me like this?  Will I ever get him back?  My head is foggy around the Darkness, but not when it comes to him.  I just wish I could get through to him.  Lucifer taunts me, my heart rips in half.  We get the angel back, but nothing good can last in this life, can it?  God himself returns, I have to sacrifice myself to stop the Darkness.  I’ll do it, because of course I will, if I have an opportunity to do some good, I’ll take it.  The Darkness doesn’t kill me.  She thanks me.

My mother is alive.  It’s everything I’ve always wanted.  I have to learn fast that she’s not what I thought.  That’s hard.  Me and my brother end up in prison for trying to kill Lucifer, and we find out this girl is going to have his kid.  How will we kill someone innocent?  I can’t think about that, I’m a killer, I’ll kill if i have to.   The angel kills a reaper to save me, but what will happen to him?  We start looking for this kid, but do we even want to find it?  The angel nearly dies for me, he tells me, my family he loves us.  I wish I could tell him the same, but the words won’t work right in my brain, so I do what I always do, I look away.  The angel finds the girl, but the kid inside her gets to him, and he runs away from me.  Why does everyone run from me?  We find them just in time to find a rift to another world, and my brother has to drag me away from the angel, who is going to sacrifice himself to kill Lucifer.  He comes back, but before I can say the words I’ve been holding onto for so long, he dies in front of me, only this time, it’s real.  My mom is taken from me too, and I’m left by the angel’s side, staring up at the sky, wondering why, why me?

I bury the angel, my brother insists we can’t kill the kid, even though it’s his fault my mom is gone and the angel is...  I beg God to bring him back, please, bring him back.  You owe me this, please bring him back.  He doesn’t listen.  I’m alone.  We burn the angel, and I try to learn to live with regret and grief and crippling pain all at once.  I hate the kid, this is his fault.  I kill myself again to save some souls, but also because I want to die this time.  I can’t take it anymore.  Death tells me I have work to do, but how much more work can there be?  How much more can I take?  It’s like the Universe reads my mind, because my angel comes back, and it’s like the last few weeks haven’t happened.  I still can’t say the words, but maybe this time I’ll get there.  Maybe this time.  We go to the other world, we save some people, I find my mom.  I let another Michael from the other world possess me to defeat Lucifer, but then I can’t expel him.  Before he shuts me in my memories, I am desperately afraid.

My brother and the angel find me in my own head, the snap me out of it.  I should have known this bar was too good for me, I knew I didn’t deserve it.  I shut Michael in there, but I know I won’t last long. I think I’m too weak to hold him, so I build a box designed to hold me forever.  I dream about it, claw the sides of the wall until my nails are bloody, but if it’s my eternity or Michael’s rule?  I’ll take the ocean every time.  The angel will always try to save me, I still can’t say the words.  The kid, my kid, he destroys Michael, but something is wrong, and I don;t realize until it’s too late.  My mother is dead, at the hands of the kid, and I have never been angrier.  I hate the kid again, I hate the angel too, I hate myself more.  I pull a gun on the kid, but I still can’t pull the trigger.  Sometimes I wish I could put it to my own head.  God comes back, turns out he was the villain all along.  Typical.  He kills our kid.  I can’t let myself feel.

The angel tries to convince me that we’re real.  How can I believe that?  Is everything I am just a story?  Have I ever chosen anything?  Does the angel really care about me?  Do I really care about him?  Another one of our friends dies.  I blame the angel, I push him away, because I can’t look at him if I think what I feel for him might not be real.  I meet up with someone I loved.  He’s a monster now, I have to kill him.  He dies holding me.  I wish I was dead sometimes too.  My brother is sick, he gets kidnapped by God.  I’m spinning in circles.  Me and the angel end up in Purgatory again.  He gets taken from me.  I’m so alone, so scared, I break down in the one place I could get lost in forever searching for the angel, I don’t want to leave him, please, don’t make me leave him.  I have to keep looking, get back to the real world to save my brother.  How will I choose?  Thank god, or, whatever, I find the angel.  I’ll tell him this time, but he stops me.  He must know.  He doesn’t want me, no one wants me.  Why would they?  Chuck has taken everything from me.  I have to kill him, no matter the cost.  The cost is gonna be our kid, raised from the dead by Death.  I guess the one thing we have going for us is we don’t stay dead for long.  I’m ready to let my kid die for my freedom.  My brother stands in the way, I pull a gun on him.  He talks me down, he’s the only one that can.  I decide to take it out on Death, my pain, my anger, my rage.  I take the angel and we find her, she chases us.  Another trap.  I realize that I’ve trapped us both.  Why am I so worthless?

The angel looks at me.  He smiles.  He tells me how worthy I am, that I’m good, that I changed him.  How can I tell him how he changed me.  He tells me he’ll die for loving me.  Then he shouldn’t, I’m not worth his life.  Don’t leave me, please, I can’t lose you, you don’t know what it does it me when you leave me.  He tells me he loves me.  I try to tell him a fraction of the things I feel for him, but it’s too late.  He’s taken before my eyes, and this time I know there’s no getting him back.

I’m left on the floor, unable to move.

This time I know, I’ll never let myself love again, because my heart is so shattered that it’s powdered, there’s no repairing it now.  I’ve always been broken, but this time I’m not just broken: I’m destroyed.

[yee-fxcking-haw]

•Love Me Tender•

Summary: After waiting, watching, and wanting, Tamaki finally has a way to get to you. He's willing to do use some questionable methods, make deals with shifty friends, whatever it takes. He'll have you.

Pairing: Pro Hero Tamaki Amajiki x FemReader (both 18+)

Warnings: Yandere behavior, stalking, coercion, sabotage, manipulation, hard dom Tamaki, slight brat reader, mostly sub reader, unprotected sex, virginity loss, oral sex (female receiving), tentacle play (oral, vaginal, anal, gagging), bondage (with tentacles), mild dumbification, degradation, spit play, cum play, wittle bit of bloodplay, creampie, marking, possession kink, collaring. Kinda-sorta dub-con (not really imo but warning just in case)

Word Count: 11,576

A/N: Jesus fucking christ I did it.

Part One: Porcelain Obsession

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

   Tamaki awoke painfully this morning, body aching and covered in dried sweat. It wasn't a feeling to be proud of, but it was a feeling he cherished. 

   Your stolen underwear is clutched in his hand still, like a lifeline. It still smells just a little bit like you… but not enough. He couldn't feel you or taste you or hold you. He had to figure something out, quickly. He had to find a way to make you his. 

   Luckily, Tamaki knows exactly how to make that happen…

***                                         

  You hang up your apron with a deep sigh, wiping sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. Thank god it's only a half day, you finally have an afternoon off, a day to spend by yourself. 

   You bid your coworkers farewell and head out of the shop. You wander home, earbuds in as you try to drown out the noise of the city. Once you're home, you notice a small box on your doorstep. 

   It's a pretty little gold box with purple ribbon, a tiny note is attached to the top. The scribbled writing reads,

   "I thought this would look pretty on you, I'm sorry about the weird exit last night. I'd like to take you to get some coffee to make up for it, if you'll let me." - Tamaki

   Your heart flutters a bit at the note, you had deduced you were nothing more than a charity case. Him walking you home was just what he felt was fair in exchange for the use of your phone, he didn't really… like you? Did he? 

   His exit was just a little bit strange, he seemed almost panicked. You wanted to ask if everything was ok, but figure it best to stay out of a hero's business. Who knows what door you'd be opening if you started to ask too many questions.

   Beneath his note is a phone number, obviously his. You can't call him right away, it might seem desperate, but you can open the box. 

   When the lid comes off, you gasp quietly at what's hidden inside. On a delicate silver chain sits one lovely little pearl. You stand there, amazed and confused. Wondering why on earth somebody like Suneater would leave such a precious little gift for you. 

***

   You called the number left on the note about an hour after receiving it. As soon as Tamaki picks up the phone your heart leaps into your throat. 

   "I didn't think y-you'd call." He laughs afterwards, but you can hear traces of genuine anxiety underneath. 

   "Well, what kind of an asshole would I be if I didn't call back the hero that saved me from a lonely walk home?" Your face crinkles up at your horrid attempt at flirting. 

   He doesn't seem to mind, though. He gives you a sweet laugh, putting some of your nerves at ease. 

   "So, uh- coffee?" He wonders. 

   "I'd love to, I just got off work, but I imagine you're busy doing hero stuff. We can-"

   "No I'm not busy." He says quickly, his urgency makes you smile. He's almost boyish in his approach, and it's very charming. 

   Somehow, between the two of you suffering your way through the conversation, you set a time for coffee.

***

    Tamaki makes a quick stop before meeting you, visiting a horrid friend of his in an alleyway a hero should never be unless he's kicking someone's ass. 

   His "friend" turns out to be a little more than your average criminal. He's a wicked looking man, with a mess of black hair and an abundance of scarring littering his body. 

   They call him Dabi. 

   "So what's the plan here? Am I just scarin' the poor girl or do I get to have some real fun?" His smile is devilish, and his eyes are telling. 

   It makes Tamaki's skin crawl, he stares daggers at the man leaning against the brick of the alleyway. 

   "If you touch her, I will gut you like a fucking fish." Tamaki says, he's full of rage, but he says it so calmly, so matter of fact. 

   "You can try." Dabi laughs, "You forget how easy it is to cook seafood." 

   Tamaki stands there for a brief second, watching the villain, weighing his options. 

   "I'm not here for banter, can you do the job or not?" His words are clipped, strangely articulate compared to his usual stutter. 

   "Yeah whatever, I got nothin' planned for tonight, and I do love making little girls scream." He tilts his head back against the wall as Tamaki turns to stalk away. 

   "Hey, Suneater." Dabi calls out with a lazy voice. 

   Tamaki freezes and keeps his back to Dabi. He turns his head to the side and waits for him to speak. 

   "Send her my way when you're done with her." If Tamaki had less of the public eye on him, he would have slit Dabi's throat then and there. 

   Instead, he swallows his rage as he tosses a hefty wad of cash over his shoulder. 

   "Don't be late." 

***

   "You always just drink it black? Not even a little bit of sugar?' You ask, astounded by Tamaki's ability to drink the bitter liquid without any sweetener.

   "Sugar is kind of useless for me, I try to eat things that'll help me with m-my quirk." He explains, his deep eyes wander while he talks, like he's watching for something. 

   That must come with being a hero. 

   "Does coffee help your quirk?" You ask, a smile playing at your lips when you see him frown at his drink. 

   "No, but it helps me focus."

   You nod playfully before taking a sip, the cafe he's brought you to is incredibly charming. It's not an overly hip establishment, it's just a sweet little hidden gem. Tucked away into a forgotten street, it gives the impression that it's a well kept secret between two best friends. 

   "Do you feel like people ask too much of you?" You question. It slips out so quickly, running away from you after launching out of your lips. 

   Your hatred for small talk gets the best of you and you jump the gun, as always. You want to hide, but not before you apologise a thousand times for being too straightforward. 

   Tamaki looks at you thoughtfully, his eyes show that he's shocked, but not offended.

   "Sometimes. It can feel like people expect me t-to be the…" He pauses for a moment, mentally grasping for the right word. 

   "It feels like people expect Heroes to be this ultimate, universal band-aid. In a lot of ways, we are, but we're still h-human… I-I'm still human…" His voice slows down by the end of his sentence, like he's realized he might be over sharing. 

   But, you asked him, you wanted to know. You actually care about him? Every bone in his body is screaming at him to grab you, throw you over his shoulder and run away. He feels some carnal desire to just keep you. Hide you from every selfish asshole that would take advantage of the starstruck look in your beautiful eyes. 

   He can't, though… not yet. 

   "S-sorry…" He whispers. 

   And then, you reach across the table to take his hand in yours. He feels the contact all the up his arm, into his chest, into his heart. 

   So you do want him too. 

   "Please don't be sorry, I liked listening to you talk." You say quietly. 

   You did love it, you loved it because you've felt so unheard, so unseen. Being able to provide somebody else with a pair of listening ears serves as a kind of relief for those feelings. 

   "Can you tell me more?" You test, hand squeezing his own a little more. 

   He looks almost elated, thrilled to be seen, excited to be heard. Most of all, he's itching to finally have you. 

***

   The date was nothing short of wonderful, filled with cute little fumblings of words, hands brushing but never holding, and sharing bits and pieces of yourselves with each other. 

   You flop onto your bed, reminiscent of a teenager who's just had their first kiss. You didn't kiss him goodnight, you chickened out of that. But you did press your lips against his cheek for a brief moment, which seemed to have quite the effect on him. 

      His breath hitched, his fists balled at his sides, acting like he'd never been touched so tenderly. It made you wonder, is the Hero as lonely as you are? 

   You glance over at your night stand, seeing the pretty little necklace sitting in its box. You're washed with guilt as you realize you forgot to wear it to coffee, knowing he must have wanted you to. You take it out of the box carefully before pulling it around your neck and hooking it into place. It fits like a choker, snug against your skin, but it feels good to have it so close.

   You're ripped from your musing when you hear the unmistakable sound of breaking glass. 

   Inside your house. 

   Your blood chills, hair stands up on the back of your neck and you rise from your bed slowly. You try to talk yourself down, kill the first nerves that consume your chest. It was probably a poorly balanced vase… except, you don't own any vases. It could have been a picture? Nope, not a picture, it was just glass… like a window breaking. 

   There's a gun in your office, but you're in the bedroom. You scan the room for something, anything that could be used for defense. Of course, nothing but a damn notebook. 

   The police, you should call the police. Your heart clenches when you hear the threatening sound of heavy footsteps falling down your hallway. 

   They're heading straight for your bedroom. 

   You lunge at the door, hand landing on the doorknob just as it begins to turn. Desperately, uselessly, you try to lock it. It's too late, though, it's already opening by the time your thumb lands on the lock. 

   You can hear your blood rushing when the door swings towards you, a large black boot planted on the other side to force it open. 

   "Sorry 'bout the window, sweetheart. I tried the front door, but it was locked." The intruder chuckles as he invades your bedroom. 

   You stumble back as you take in his sewn together form, a mess of black leather and scars. Wild, electric blue eyes devour your trembling form as you press yourself back into the wall. 

   "Oh, hon, you're shakin' like you're in danger. I ain't gonna hurt you, I'm gonna do the opposite." He stalks towards you, somehow moving in slow motion but with incredible speed all at the same time. 

   Your phone sits on your night stand, only feet away but all too unreachable. You're caged in by his arms as he towers over you, filling your nose with some horrid, smokey smell. 

   "P-please, you can have anything, j-just don't-" 

   Your words halt when a long, pale finger traces over your collar bone. 

   "Don't what? 'J-just don't' what?" He mocks you, eyes lit with a sadistic amusement. 

   Your heart rattles in your chest as tears prick your eyes, you can't fight him, he's huge. You don't have your gun. You don't have your phone. You're fucked. 

   "Cryin' already? What's the matter, doll?-" The hand traces your collar bone moves up to wrap around your throat, "Not a fan of villains?" 

   Your hands paw at his wrist, you will yourself to sputter something out, any kind of objection to whatever he has planned. You try to whimper out a 'stop', but when your mouth finally forms the word, the voice isn't yours, but it's familiar.

   It's low, clipped and dangerous as it barks out the warning. 

   Suneater. 

   Suddenly, as if he's being yanked to the heavens by the Gods, your assailant is torn away from you. A large, red tentacle captures him by the waist and throws him across the room. You collapse to the ground instantly, curling around your legs as you hear the muffled sounds of a violent fight. 

   You hide in your own little world, trembling and clenching yourself. You take one peak from between your arms, just to see Tamaki place the intruder in a chokehold before barking some profane threat at him. 

   The villain is smiling the whole time, he even winks at you. 

   "If I ever see you near her again, you won't walk away with your life." Tamaki snarls as the stranger breaks away from his hold.  

   "She's not worth the trouble." He laughs, raising one hand before sending brilliant blue flames blasting towards Tamaki. 

   You scream involuntarily, reaching out for the Hero as he jumps away from the flames. Once they're gone, the villain is gone as well. Like some cheap magician disappearing off stage. The room is almost entirely untouched by the burst of fire, at most, the tip of your comforter is singed. 

   The second the fire is gone, Tamaki is walking towards you urgently, pulling you to your feet so he can cradle your face. 

   "Are you ok? Did he touch you? What happened?" His inky eyes search your face frantically. 

   You don't answer, you just stutter, clinging to his hands until you can finally squeak out, "I'm ok." 

   His shoulders drop as he sighs, hands loosening their grip. His eyes flicker down to the necklace, his gaze softens when he sees how pretty it looks on you. 

   "Y-you… Do you like it?" He asks timidly, glancing up at you. 

    You breathe for a moment, slightly taken aback by the sudden shift in attention. 

   "I love it." You say quietly, still trembling. 

   He just saved you, really saved you from a real villain who was planning God knows what, and he's worried about your necklace? 

   "It's so pr-pretty on you…" He reaches down to touch it, leaving one hand on your cheek. 

   You take the moment to breathe, remind yourself that you're safe, that you're with a hero now. You observe Tamaki's almost casual appearance, a dry fit shirt and simple tactical pants. It almost helps you relax, seeing him like so… at ease? 

   His fingers play with the pearl, deep eyes transfixed. Something nearly uncontrollable swells within his chest. It burns and aches and eats at him. You're so close, you're so warm, so soft. He could have you, he could just take you. 

   "Tamaki?" You prod gently, your own chest stirs, and something pulls you towards him.

   His eyes snap up to yours, and something shifts in the air. It feels sticky, heavy, too hard to breathe. His gorgeous form towers over you, pressing you back up against the wall as his eyes devour your trembling body. 

   "Thank you f-for saving me." You whisper.

   He nods earnestly, his breathing is shaking, his hands feel like they're holding back. 

   "Anything. Anything for you." 

   That line, that makes you ache.

   How long have you felt so lukewarm, so overlooked and forgotten? Too long, far too long. Now, with Tamaki looking down at you like you're priceless, you feel fiery, you feel seen and remembered. 

   Your hands grasp at his wrists, your eyes flick down to his parted lips. You're not sure what you want to happen next, but you want him as close as you can get him.

   "If you let me start, I will not stop." His voice drops and it makes your breath catch. 

   He feels it too, then. 

   Is it the high of what you've just gone through? Is it just your body trauma bonding with the man that just saved you? Or do you really, really want him so bad it hurts? 

   His tone is warning and his eyes are frantic. 

   "Please." Is the only thing that falls from your quivering lips. 

   Consequences be damned, motives especially be damned. You need him, and he needs you. That's enough explanation for tonight. 

   He consumes you much like the villains flames, his lips are on yours almost too fast, his hands are greedy as they hold your face to his. 

   While you feel similar to a lovesick girl getting kissed for the first time, Tamaki feels like a prisoner finally set free. He feels like a lion that was held in a cage and taunted with a piece of meat. He feels like the door has finally been opened, and he can finally sink his teeth in. 

   "I wanna feel you." He brings his mouth away from yours with much reluctance, leaving his forehead pressed against yours. 

   You flounder for a moment, with your mouth feeling dry and your limbs feeling heavy. 

   "Where?" You choke out, searching his face for any tell. 

   "God, everywhere." It's a broken request, said like a secret. 

   "Take it. Whatever you want." Your boldness surprises you both. 

   You're hooked on the exhilaration, you're craving more, you want to feel something. Even after just a walk home and a coffee date, you want to feel it with Tamaki. 

   "Don't give me that…" He shivers as he presses his body against yours, making it very evident how much of an affect you're having on him. 

   "I'll ruin you." He whimpers when you grind back against him, your hands tug at his shirt and you look up at him with wide eyes. 

   "Who said I don't want that?" 

   You both stand there frozen, waiting for the other to move, to prove that this isn't a dream. 

   "Fuck." 

   His hands descend from cradling your face so they can wrap around your neck with the most gentle grip. 

   He watches you intently, feels your breath quicken, cherishing the way you bite your lip when his fingers tighten slightly. 

   Internally, Tamaki is fighting the most challenging battle he's ever had to face. He's had to take on a wide variety of formidable enemies, but right now, nothing seems more formidable than having to hold himself back when he finally has you in his arms. 

   He wants to take and take and take, for as long as you'll let him… maybe even longer. 

   She's mine now.

   Something shifts in his gaze just then, making him look almost primal. It makes your chest feel frozen, makes it difficult to breathe or focus. 

   His hands shift around your neck, they feel almost… slippery? Their texture is different, their movement is more fluid. Then, you feel it, the distinct sensation of a suction cup latching against your skin. 

   Tentacles. He's made each of his fingers a tentacle.

   Your eyes stay locked on his, both of you in a heated trance as you watch how the other responds. 

   One slick tendril crawls up to latch onto your chin, he turns your head upwards and to the side with a thoughtful look. It's almost like he's sizing you up, appraising you. 

   After a thick moment of silence, he finally speaks. 

   "I'm going to make you cry." It's a depraved promise, beautifully whispered with no shame. 

   You stand there, held by him, captured by him. You're helplessly entranced, all rational thought is long gone as you reel over the implications of his statement. All you can know for sure, is you want more. 

    Despite every red flag, regardless of any common sense, you want more. 

   "I dare you." You say back to him, the desperation to feel anything other than mundane spurs you onward.

   He receives the words like it's a smack to the face, some shock evident in his eyes. He didn't take you for a brat, but he can certainly roll with it. 

   "You're gonna make this fun for me, aren't you?" He questions, his tentacles grip you tighter now, reminding you who has the high ground. 

   Mine. 

   The air shifts, something heavier takes over the mood, it settles in your ribs and wraps around your heart. 

   He guides you away from the wall, shepherding you around until your back is towards your bed. He starts walking you backwards until your knees buckle once they hit the mattress. 

   You sit there, gazing up at him, held still by his quirk, transfixed by the power he exudes as he towers over you. 

   "Has anyone ever had you before?" He asks, finally returning his hand to normal so he can cradle your cheek. 

   The question has your stomach burning with nerves. 

   No, nobody ever has. 

   You shake your head, looking down, cheeks burning as you try to hide your embarrassment. 

   His reaction shocks you immensely, his whole body shutters and he drops to his knees. His hands settle on your waist as he moves between your legs. 

   "Th-this is… all mine then?" He asks, he rubs his thumbs over the bottoms of your ribs affectionately. 

   His eyes are wide and reverent as he waits for your answer, looking like you're some anointed goddess. His eyes skate over every feature he can, and he cherishes each one. 

   Your confession nearly knocks the wind out of him, especially with how sweet you look, all blushing and embarrassed. It makes his need to rip you apart even stronger. 

   "Please...let me give you everything…" His hands tighten on you and you feel them shaking.

   You study him for a second, at a complete loss for words, he seems so… devoted. It pulls on your heart, clouds your mind and lights your body up. How could you possibly say no to him? How on earth could you turn someone away when they’re looking at you like you’re placed on an altar ready to be worshiped. 

   Carefully, like you’re trying not to frighten a beast, you reach out and touch his face. He moves into your touch like a lonely cat, desperate for affection and recognition. 

   “Please…” You breathe. 

   And that’s all it takes. 

   His breath leaves his lungs in a harsh rush as he moves forward like a leopard, lean and precise as he forces you onto your back. 

   Your blood rushes so quickly you swear you can hear it, your mouth goes dry as he stares you down. He’s suddenly less reverent, now he’s ravenous. A dangerous, carnivorous look dances in his dark eyes. His judgement is clouded just like yours, only it fuels him, while your state is much more terrified. Any spunk you had in you is thrown out the window as he leers over you.

   You shrink into the mattress as he hovers above you on all fours, heavy eyelids and parted lips giving him a nearly drugged look. 

   “When you say everything-” He whispers, moving so he can settle on his knees between your open legs, “Do you mean this too?” He drops his hips as he questions you, pressing something very hard into your thigh, something very intimidating. 

   He watches your eyes go wide, a wicked grin spreading across his face when you gasp after he rolls his hips. His arms cage you, a strong hand placed on either side of your head, the position makes you feel so pathetic, so helpless, but it gives you an incredible rush. 

   “Don’t look so scared, it won’t hurt.” He dips down to press his hot, open mouth against your neck, tongue lapping at your pulse. A dark chuckle leaves his chest, “Not much, at least.” 

   Then he’s definitely less reverent, he’s no longer worshipful, he’s a wicked, unleashed best. His hands are selfish as they remove your clothes, his mouth is voracious against your skin. He has you panting and twitching in seconds, musing at you when your reactions are particularly strong. 

   It’s when he snakes down your body, wetting your skin with his tongue, settling between your breasts so he can suck harshly at the heated skin, that you finally feel something break within you. You arch into his touch, fisting your hands in his raven hair, whimpering so beautifully for him as he works you up. 

   He knows what he’s doing, he’s skilled, well equipped for pulling you apart. He’s already descended into some debauched state of being, and he’s pulling you down with him. 

   “Nobody’s ever tasted this sweet little cunt before, have they?” He asks against your skin, latching his mouth back to the spot he’s focused on marking, but looking up at you with inquiring eyes. 

   You try to swallow, shake your head, do something, but all you can do is lay there naked and gasping.

   He laughs again, a wicked thing that leaves his chest like a wisp of wind. He slides a hand up your body, he flicks over your nipple with his thumb on the way up, pulling another whimper out of you. 

   His hand latches onto your jaw, then he shakes your head for you, doing what he knows you can’t. 

   “Oh baby…” He sighs, “You saved it for me?” He teases, hips grinding against you, the cloth of his pants creates a strange kind of friction against your clit, not unpleasant, but not pleasurable. Where the hell did the sweet, stuttering hero go? If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looks deviant… almost villainous.

   “Tama- please.” You shiver, not sure what you’re asking for, but certain that you need more. 

   “Good girl, talk to me.” His hand slinks down your throat before he rises to his knees. 

   Your eyes lock on the tightness of his pants, trying not to panic at the sheer size of the imprint he’s making on them. 

   His shirt is pulled over his head, messing his hair in the most handsome way, and the breath is ripped from your lungs. 

   He’s stunning, broad and strong looking. He’s all porcelain skin over well trained muscle. Built perfectly for the work he does. Built perfectly for ripping apart poor little girls like you. 

   “I liked the look you got when I had my tentacles on you.” He sighs, letting a hand fall to your bare stomach so he can trace lazy circles against you. 

   “Did you like that? Do you want me to use my tentacles to play with you?” He questions. 

   His voice is low, it’s rich and warm and dripping with seduction. Nothing like the tentative, wobbly tone he usually has. It rips the ground out from underneath you, leaves you panting and blinking like a brain dead fool as you gawk up at his prowling form. 

   “Just a yes or no, if you can manage it.” He smiles sweetly up at you, splaying his hand across your quaking abdomen. 

   You breathe deeply, trying to steady yourself, trying to catch up with what he’s said. 

   “Y-yes.” You whisper, barely audible, hardly heard over your labored breathing. 

   His other hand mirrors the one he has on you, sliding around to hold you by the waist, a gentle cage meant to establish dominance. 

   “Yes… what?” He prompts, pressing his thumbs down. 

   You falter then, your tongue feels heavy, your mind slows and you’re suddenly void of all vocabulary. Were you really really about to let one of the most well known pros wreck your body with his quirk? Were you actually laid out for him like this? You know so little of him, your only information gathered from small talk, but something about that had you buzzing. 

   You could be whoever you want to be, you don’t have to be the floundering virgin. You don’t have to be so damn shell shocked. 

   “Yes, D-daddy.” You test, hoping to God or whoever is listening that you got the right name. 

   By the way his eyes flutter closed, the way his grip tightens, the way his body tenses, you sure as hell did. 

   “That’s it.” He sighs, “-and what about you?” He wonders, his hold going gentle again. 

   You? What about you? 

   Tamaki watches you carefully, barely containing the raging storm inside him, barely holding back the carnal urge to turn every limb to a pretty purple tentacle and stuff you until you’re crying for mercy. 

   Not yet, don’t fuck this up. 

   “Princess? Darling?” He asks, lowering himself back down to kiss down your stomach, looking up at you through his thick lashes. 

   “Whatever you want.” You answer. Your sweet, sacred submission makes him close his eyes and breathe in. 

   Hold it. Not. Yet.

   “You’re like an angel.” He breathes, making you shiver under the weight of the high praise. 

   He notices your reaction immediately, smiling to himself. 

   “So that’s it.” He presses a long kiss just under your belly button, bringing attention to how naked you are, and how naked he is not. 

   Your thighs squeeze together and your arms come up to cover your chest, suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to keep it all out of view. 

   His hands are on your wrist and his body is crouched over yours again before you can blink. He pins your hands beside your head, looking down at you with some wild, unbridled kind of look in his eyes. 

   “You do not get to hide from me.” His shoulders flex as he pushes your wrists down into the mattress, earning a whine from you as the pressure starts to ache. 

   “You’re mine. That means I get all of you.” He bites the words off, but keeps his voice quiet. 

   You should be scared, crying even, but the only thing you feel is exhilaration, the ache between your legs and the fluttering of your heart as he overpowers you with just the look in his eyes and a few harsh words. 

   “Do you understand me?” He eases up on your wrists slightly, looking more stern, less unhinged. 

   “I-I do, I’m sorry.” You whimper out. 

   He considers you for a brief second, eyes growing softer as he watches the way your pretty lip trembles. 

   “It’s ok.” He releases your wrists and speaks gently, “You’re ok.” 

   The reassurances makes you dizzy, especially in contrast with how rough he just was. 

   "Hold still for me, angel." Then he’s back to mouthing at your skin.

   His teeth meet your collarbone and your hands reach for his messy hair. 

   “There?” He asks against you, a smile in his voice as he lets his teeth gather your skin again. The spot he finds makes you dizzy, you feel the heat spread across your cheeks and the tips of your ears. 

   Tamaki is still stuck in his own chains, fighting against them as he focuses on the way you twitch for him, the way your body rolls when he bites harder. 

   So she likes it.

   Your body heats up, it's all so overwhelming. It's so different from anything you've ever felt, and you can't believe it's with him. 

    Then his kisses get more sloppy, his teeth are sharper against you. He leaves you shining with his spit, painted in blooming purple and red bruises as he begins his journey down your body. 

   "Da-addy." You sniffle when he bites into the underside of your breast. 

   It doesn't feel loving, it doesn't feel passionate, it just feels rough. 

   "Hush." He mumbles against you, "If you can't take this I might as well stop now." He looks up at you, challenging you. 

   "I can t-take it, I can." You breathe, nodding, looking at him with begging eyes, "Please, don't stop." 

   He honest to god growls against you. You couldn't possibly know what you do to him, how sweet your willingness sounds, how beautiful you look laid out for him. He knows he should take his time, and he resents that fact. He almost resents you for being so sweet and needy. With all the things he wants to do to you, he almost, almost, wishes you had at least some experience. This makes you his completely, though, and he wouldn’t trade that for anything. 

   His hot mouth moves lower and lower until he's tonguing at your hip bone, pulling the skin into his mouth so he can work his teeth against it. He will mark you wherever he can, as long as you'll let him. 

   Your hips roll up against him, making him smirk at how needy you're acting. 

   "Ask for it." He whispers, hungry hands slide up the outsides of your thighs, "Ask for what you want." 

   His fingers dig into the meat of your thighs, sending the breath from your lungs as he glares up at you. He lets his wet tongue loll out to give a teasing flick against the crux of your thigh. 

   You take a deep breath in and cling to the sheets for dear life, "Please, use your mouth on me." 

   He smiles so sweetly then, looking mildly amused. 

   "Here?" He goes back to that same spot, sucking and teasing, looking all too pleased with himself. 

   "Be specific, angel, tell me where you need me." 

   Tamaki knows for a fact that he didn't have to spend his time making you ask for things, he knows what you want, he knows how to give them to you. He could take whatever he needs, probably without much a fight from you, but what fun would that be? He would miss the pretty blush creeping across your skin, and the sweet little tears in your big eyes. No, he wouldn't be missing this, not for the world. 

    "I wanna feel your tongue, please, use your mouth on m-my cunt." You shiver, timid and uncertain about your phrasing. 

   It seems to do the trick though, because Tamaki's eyes nearly roll to the back of his head. 

   He answers with a low moan before grabbing you by the insides of your thighs so he can spread you open. Once the air of the room hits you, you're made painfully aware of just how soaked you are. 

   It makes Tamaki look like a wild man, all blown out pupils blushing cheeks. 

   Almost in slow motion, he presses his tongue into the spot right above your clit, making you whine and buck against his mouth. 

   "Needy little thing." He says, giving your thighs a gentle squeeze, "But I suppose I have teased enough." 

   Then he's on you, and the second his tongue meets your weak spot you know you're ruined. You know that not one person will ever hold a candle to Tamaki Amajiki. 

   He pulls away for only a second, just to whisper praises up to you, "Your cunt tastes like everything I've ever needed." 

   You huff at him in disbelief, not knowing what to say or do, heart soaring because of his confession.

   Then he dives back in, and he gets sloppy with it, setting a pace that feels so good it aches. The heat spreads through every limb, and settles somewhere deep in your chest. Everything tingles and burns, and breathing seems nearly impossible. 

   Internally, Tamaki is raging. He’s so close to losing it, he feels himself slipping, your taste spreads across his tongue is the culmination of months of watching and waiting and wanting. He wants to drown in you, he wants to rip you to shreds. No more watching you through windows, no more fucking his fist while he wishes with everything he has that it was your precious little pussy. He has you now, spread open and vulnerable. He knows he could shove your face into the pillows and let loose on you, stuff every hole with an invasive tentacle, the thought makes him even more feral, it makes him work even harder as he eats you. 

   Every roll of his tongue against your clit makes you throb and buck, which makes him growl and push you down against the mattress. He's loud and messy, slurping and moaning, letting it drip down his chin and his throat, never once letting up. 

   Your head is thrown back against the pillows, eyes drilled shut. You know damn well if you saw him, you wouldn't last another second. He builds you up until your thighs are trembling and you're a whiny little mess. 

   Perfect. 

   Suddenly, the texture of his tongue changes drastically. It's much more slippery, and much thicker. Your head shoots up, and you nearly sob at what you see. Tamaki, with his eyes wild and his jaw dropped, is letting a wicked looking tentacle hang from his mouth. 

   His quirk. 

   He smirks up at you as the tip of it writhes against your clit, flicking and circling as he watches the tears start to fall from your face. You can't possibly keep up, you didn't know anything could ever feel this good. 

   You watch the suction cups ripple as he moves the muscle against you, then he does the unthinkable. He latches one of them onto your clit. Your eyes cross and you bring a fist to your mouth so you can bite on it and muffle your screams. 

   He hates that. 

   With another rumbling growl, he lets his hands turn to tentacles as well. You watch helplessly as he snakes them up your arms, ripping your hand away from your mouth so he can pin both limbs to the bed. The tentacles are strong, surprisingly warm, and so damn slippery. 

   It's hard to tell if you're close to the edge, it's felt that way the whole time, everything feels so hot and tight and good. 

   He smiles as you cry out and thrash against the bed, full of admiration for the usefulness of his own quirk.

   “Too much! D-daddy, it’s too much.” You sniffle out as you feel a stinging feeling in your cunt, it’s not necessarily an unpleasant sting, but it’s too much.

   He ignores your objection, choosing to simply suck harder at your overstimulated sweet spot. He revels in your pitifully low threshold, planning to do so much worse to your poor, inexperienced body. 

   The ache in your cunt continues to push the tears from your eyes, and eventually, drool from your mouth. The suction cup works dutifully against your clit, making you feel so overwhelmed you don't know if you can cum. 

   Then you feel the prodding at your entrance. 

   Then you really scream. 

   Holding that one little suction cup to your clit, he snakes the tip of his tentacle into your dribbling hole. He furrows his dark brows and moans against you when he feels how tight you are, desperate to feel the velvety walls around his cock.

   "Holy fucking shit." You gasp. 

   He watches the dramatic rise and fall of your quaking chest, your baffled eyes trying to keep track of everything happening to your body, and he swears he falls even more in love. 

   You're so willing, so compliant, so at his mercy. 

   He crooks the tip of the tentacle towards himself just a bit, and it's like you've been struck by lightning. You cum hard, harder than you ever have. You're a mess of twitching limbs, shivering as your cunt clenches so hard your feel it in your fucking chest. You sob into the air, broken and tearful as he works you through it. 

   You feel the hold on your arms tighten as your body arches away from the mattress. As you feel every inch of you ignite, you know that you're ruined for everyone else. 

   As soon as you lower yourself so you're flat to the mattress, the tentacles around your arms slip away and turn back into his hands. 

   The one between your legs still plays with you a little bit, prodding at your clit, lapping up your mess. Tamaki laughs as you jump and twitch, whimpering and gasping as he milks your body for every after shock you can give him. 

   You watch him pull the tentacle back into his mouth, flicking it over his lips to gather your release before disappearing into his mouth. You watch his eyes flutter shut, you watch him shiver and you hear the sweetest little moan in the back of his throat. 

   “You’re pretty when you cry.” He mumbles, looking up at you with the most tender look in his eyes. It’s a harsh contrast with all the cum dripping down his chin. 

   “You move a lot, too. It’s fun.” He states, almost like some kind of twisted review, “I don’t mind holding you down like that.” 

   The drop in the tone of his voice makes a chill creep up your spine. 

   “In fact…” He lifts himself up so he can start to crawl up your body, “I really, really enjoyed it.”

   You gasp for words, wind stolen from your lungs as he presses his messy mouth against your sternum. 

   “Something tells me you did too.” He whispers. 

   Your voice is finally found, somewhere deep in your chest, hidden and nearly forgotten, “What makes you say that?” You ask timidly. 

   He pulls his head up to look down at you with a confident smirk, “The mess you made.” 

   To prove his point, he swipes two fingers through your folds, gathering your creamy release before holding it up to the light. He looks so damn proud, like he’s showing off. 

   “Messy girl.” He smiles, as you watch him bring his coated fingers to his lips, sucking the sin off with a greedy pop from his lips. 

   “Oh, how selfish of me.” He sighs before grabbing you by the chin, “I should share.” 

   He pulls your mouth open then slowly leans over you so he can push the mess back through his lips. You oblige like a robot, stunned by the debauchery, letting him guide you through this act. He lets it fall from his lips slowly, creating a long string from his mouth to yours. The second it hits your tongue, something clicks for you. Something dark and smokey settles in your gut, something all consuming and blinding. It rids you of boundaries and reservations, it fills you with nothing but the man in front of you. 

   He watches you with a pointed gaze, shutting your jaw for you so you can swallow what he gave you. 

   “What do you say?” He asks. 

   You feel the burn in your chest, the embers in your skin, “More, please.” 

   “Fucking hell," The words tumble out as a breath mostly, "You want more?" He questions, grabbing you by the wrist so he can place your palm just above the waist of his pants. 

   You nod up at him, vision blurred by the heat of his skin against your palm. 

   "Then take it." He leans down to say it, biting off the words. 

   A challenge. 

   You can't possibly disappoint him, you can't possibly leave him wanting. Take it? How are you supposed to take it? 

   In a wild moment of confidence, mostly your body moving without the permission of your mind, you wrap your legs around his lean hips so you can flip him onto his back. 

   Your eyes lock the second you feel him pressing against you, hard and thick, and terribly intimidating in length. 

   He watches you for a moment, then hastily grabs you by the back of the neck so he can pull you down for another kiss. It's hot and needy, full of wicked want and unabashed selfishness. It tickles your ribs, creeps up your neck, and secures itself greedily around all of your common sense. 

   Tamaki had no intentions of letting you take anything, it's a game to him. He'll let you have your moment, let you feel like you have the reigns, but he'll take it right back. His has you under control, he vows that he always will.

   Your chest flutters with a clawing, aching feeling. 

   More more more. 

   "Fuck me." It's a prayer, whimpered against his delicate lips, "Please, fuck me." You dig your hands into his hair, cherishing the sweet noises they leave him as you beg. 

   Under control.

   "Tell me you need it." He sighs, answering your prayer by sending his hands down to work urgently at his belt. 

   "Tell me you need me." 

   You bring your face back from his just enough to look into his dark eyes, and you see tears welling in them. 

   He needs to feel needed.

   "Please, I need it, I need you, Suneater." 

   Everything freezes for a brief second, the air thickens and his eyes darken as you wait with a held breath for his next move. 

   Then, everything is flying around you. You feel the bite of fingertips against your waist, your stomach hits the mattress, possibly the sound of his pants being taken off. Your senses are dulled by the raging swirl of emotions beating inside you as your hips are lifted up, and a hand shoves your face into the pillow. 

   "Who's your hero?" His voice is rough, his hand gathers your hair and cranks your head to the side, "Who is your fucking hero?" He's barking the words out now, harsh and demanding. 

   And holy hell does it get you going. 

   "You are! You're my hero, Suneater." You cry out, craning your neck to look at him. 

   You expected furrowed brows, a straight mouth and furious eyes. What you're met with is nothing of the sort. A soft pink blush across his cheeks and the tips of his pointed ears, tears wetting his cheek, and a quivering lip. 

   With your eyes on him, he makes a show of sliding his hand down his front so he can grab at his length. He lets it fall against your ass, heavy and painfully hard. 

   "Don't forget that." He says simply, sliding his thick head down through your slicked lips. 

   The contact makes you both shudder deep in your souls. 

   "Daddy, please." Your voice is pitiful as you fist the sheets and press back against him. 

   "So slutty." He muses, releasing your hair so he can run his nails down your back, "Poor thing, never been fucked, needs it so bad, doesn't she?" 

   You nod fervently and fuss as he presses his head against your tight hole. You tense and shiver, not at all prepared for what's to come. 

   "I need it, I need you, please please please." You have one thought now, no reservations, you need him. 

   "I'm gonna ruin this little cunt." He says, a warning tone in his voice. 

   The hand that was tracing your spine suddenly feels very cold and wet. 

   His damn quirk. 

   He takes his time, letting the thick tentacle slither around your waist. It wraps around you twice, teasing you with the pops of the suction cups, leaving pretty purple circles all over your abdomen. 

   He lifts you easily, pulling you up so your back is pressed against his chest. 

   "Ruin it, please, it's yours, I'm yours." You sniffle, looking down at your trapped position. 

   With a low, menacing growl, he sinks his teeth into your neck, and his cock into your heat. 

   Tamaki holds his breath, willing himself not to fill you up right this second. You're too damn tight, so warm and velvety. You're so perfect, and so completely his. 

   You sob into the air, hands reaching out to hold the headboard as you feel like you're being ripped apart. 

   "Oh don't scream, Angel, people might think something's wrong." His voice is shaking now, and the hold on your waist tightens. 

   You focus on relaxing, letting your walls lose their tension, but it's all fruitless. He's too big, he fills you too well, and all you can do is take it. 

   "Here, let me give that mouth something to do." 

   His other hand comes around to hold your throat, turning each finger into a tentacle again. It leaves you reeling and gasping as he presses further into you, wrapping what would be his middle finger around your throat. He wraps it around twice, like he did with your waist. The appendage comes up to rest its tip on your bottom lip. 

   The sensation makes you dizzy, especially when it finally snakes into your panting mouth. It doesn't really taste like anything, it just feels wet and slick, the texture of the suction cups is the strangest thing about it. He rocks his hips so gently, squeezing you tighter everywhere he's holding you. 

   You don't feel like a moth drawn to a flame, you feel like a moth caught in a spider's web. All tangled up, not willing to fight to escape, not even wanting to. 

   "You're so damn tight." He stutters out, pressing his hips flush against your own. 

   You cry out and gag against the tentacle stuffing your mouth, digging your nails into the headboard as he chuckles behind you. 

   "You're such a pretty little mess for me. Your cunt's already dripping." 

   You don't doubt it, it has to be with how badly your core aches around him as he stretches you. 

   Your thighs start to tremble as you wait for him to move, sniffling as the tears fall from your eyes and the drool spills from your lips. 

   A pretty little mess indeed. 

   Slowly, he drags his hips back with a hiss before pushing back in. He takes his time with it, building an agonizing pace that offers you no release. There's only the pressure, only your clit screaming for attention, only the maddening tease of his head against your sweet spot with every torturous push in. 

   "Fuck angel, I gotta break this pussy in, don't I?" His words pull another pitiful moan from you, nodding and whining is all you're capable of. 

   His picks up speed just enough to make you tense even more, still painful, still mind numbing. 

   "You look so fucking pretty on the end of my cock." 

   His words pour over you like hot wax, heating you up, making you drip. The heat seeps deep into your skin, making you squirm and clench. 

   He speeds his thrusting up slightly, then more, and more, and more, until you’re shrieking and choking against the tentacle stuffing your mouth. Your hands fly up to claw at it, wanting to tell him how it feels, wanting to thank him for the way he’s fucking you. 

   It’s still painful, each thrust splits you open with a sting, but it’s so damn good. The sharp stretching is absolutely spectacular, and it sends your brain into somewhere dark and smokey, it leaves you with a wide open feeling in your chest. It leaves you wanting more. 

   “What’s the matter, sweet thing?” He taunts, “Tell me about it, then, how’s Daddy make you feel?” He turns each tentacle back into a finger slowly, pulling out of your mouth, leaving you a gasping mess. 

   Through spit and tears, you praise him, words spewing out between moans as your body jolts from each punishing snap of his hips. 

   “So fucking good! You make me feel so good!” You cry, clinging to his forearm as he brings you closer to his chest. 

   The tentacle around your waist starts to slither down your stomach, “This isn’t even half of what I’m capable of doing to you,” The tip of it gives the hood of your clit a teasing flick, “-and you’re already such a slut for me.” His chuckle is dark and full as the tip of his skilled tentacle zeros in on your sweet spot, rubbing and wriggling against it until you’re screaming. 

   “Say it. Say you’re my little slut.” His words are a harsh demand against your ear, leaving no room for disobedience. 

   “I- f-fuck- I can’t! I ca-an’t!” You sob, not able to catch your breath between thrusts. 

   Tamaki eats that right up, swelling with pride as he fucks you speechless, delirious with the fact that he finally has your cunt gripping his cock. 

   Before he can bark another order at you, you finally pull the words out of your closing throat, "I'm your slut," You gasp as drool rolls down your chin, "I'm your little slut." 

   He throws his head back and throws everything he has into every thrust, his moans are obscene, high pitched and broken as he feels how hard you squeeze him when he speeds up the tip of his tentacle against your clit. 

   "Give it to me, I feel that greedy cunt tryin' to milk me, give me that fuckin cum." He huffs against your ear. Your entire body seizes up, shaking violently as ribbons of pleasure shoot through you. You pulse around Tamaki almost violently, earning some very rough sounding moans from him as he works you through it. 

   Your orgasm lasts for what feels like an eternity, you shiver with every throb of your walls. It possesses that same almost painful pleasure, and it's everything you've ever wanted. At some point, the tentacle around your waist turns to a hand, still absentmindedly rubbing you as you come down. 

   He lets your torso fall forward, leaving you bent over and exposed for him. His hands smooth over your ass, and you realize he's still so fucking hard. 

   "Can you take more, angel?"

   You nod against the tear soaked pillow you've pressed your face into, not sure that you even can, but willing to try. 

   "Good," He bends down to press kisses into your spine as he pulls out, "'Cause you're going to." 

   He pulls out, almost full of regret, wanting to live the rest of his life buried inside you.

   Now he can have some fun, mind cleared slightly by finally feeling you come undone around him. He's still hazy, still slightly frenzied, but less ravenous, less of a starved man waiting for his meal, more of a well fed man waiting for desert. 

   His hands hold your waist gently so he can guide you onto your back. You oblige, more than willing to let him have his way. 

   You finally get a good look at him, and you're astounded by just how pretty his dick looks. All pale and pink, swollen and shiny, it makes you dizzy with admiration. 

   "You're terribly beautiful." He whispers, cradling your waist so he can worship your stomach with soft kisses, "I don't believe you're even real." 

   Sweetness oozes through your tingling limbs, pouring over you like warm honey. His tender mouth brings you back down, soothes you into a state of catharsis. Your body settles, but your heart picks back up when his lips are on your hips. 

   Your eyes meet his, and you share the sentiment that he just might not be real. He pears up at you through a mess of indigo hair, eyes full of what you can only describe as devotion. 

   He explores your body with his hands, dipping his thumbs into every crook he can, palming handfuls of your plush thighs. He seems to have a soft spot for your hips though, pulling at your love handles, letting his breath speed up each time until he's panting against you. 

   With every pull of his hands, you bend for him, push into him, work with him. You both find a rhythm, falling into an easy dance of grabbing and needing. 

   "I want to keep you." He breathes, placing a hand on either side of your waist so he can lift himself over you, "I want to have you." 

   He gathers your legs while he speaks, hooking his hands under your knees so he can fold you up. 

   "You have me." You whisper, reaching out to lay your fingers on the sides of his ribs. 

   You watch his skin twitch under your touch, you watch his eyebrows sag into an almost heartbroken look. 

   He looks down between your bodies, quivering when he sees his heavy cock resting against your stomach. He feels so incredibly proud of you in that moment, for taking him so well, and asking for more. 

   She's mine. She said I have her. 

   The concept brings another wave of primal desire crashing down on his self control. 

   His fingers dig into your skin, biting at the flesh, spreading you open for him as he puts his weight on your legs. 

   You clench in anticipation, teased by the pressure of his hot length resting against you. 

   "I can take it." You say quietly, sliding your hands up his lean body so you can lace them into his inky hair. 

   He melts into your touch, stunned by your gorgeous submission. 

   "Fuck, angel." His words are shattered as they fall from his lips. 

   You reach down between your bodies and wrap your hand around his weeping tip. He trembles and hiccups as you push him down so he's lined up with where you need him. 

   "Please, I want all of it." m. 

   “Careful.” He pants, looking down at you with a warning in his eyes. 

   It doesn’t create hesitation in you though, only curiosity. 

   “We’re being careful now?” You tease, sliding him up and down your slit. 

   “You little devil.” He hisses, grabbing your wrist harshly, “You think you’re cute, don’t you?” 

   You freeze and blink up at him, once again shocked by his quick change in temperament. 

   “You wanna act like a tease now?” He questions, bringing your hand up so he can press it into the mattress with his. 

   “Did you find yourself a cute little attitude?” His voice drips with venom, it bites at your insides and melts your skin. 

   “That’s ok, angel.” He lets your hand go so he can press on the backs of your thighs again, successfully folding you completely in half, “I’ll fuck it out of you.” 

   Before you can breathe, blink, or respond, he’s splitting you open with a brutal pace. He laughs deep in his chest when you cry out, he mocks you when your hands fly to his abs in an attempt to slow his assault. A wicked smile spreads across his pretty face when tears stain your flushed cheeks once again. 

   “Cryin’ again so soon? Is it too much, baby? You need Daddy to slow down?” He’s testing you, only thrusting harder as he taunts you for your sobbing and moaning. 

   “No!” You gasp between tears, “Don’t stop, please, fuck me like that.” 

   “That’s my girl.” 

   His thrusts are ruthless, sharp, unforgiving. He rocks your body and the bed with each plunge in, headboard crashing against the wall. Each drive into you is enchanting, it teaches you something new, opens new doors, shows you a new, brilliant world of depravity. The way the pleasure shoots all the way up your spine with every drag of his cock, it’s something you want to feel until you die, you’d even be happy if this is the way you die. 

   You watch him disappear inside of you over and over, pulling out just as quick, covered in slick and sin. Tamaki is in his own feral world, watching your lovely face crumble and pout as he fills you. His hands are angry against the back of your thighs, nails digging in hard enough to bring little pearls of scarlet to the surface. 

   When you start to whine from the sting, he flashes you a lazy smile before stuffing his fingers into your mouth. He presses the blood covered fingertips into your tongue just enough to make drool spill from the sides of your mouth. 

   “Hush, you’ll learn to love it.”

   His smile turns wolfish when he watches your eyes roll back. It’s all so black-hearted, it’s everything you’ve kept yourself from, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted. 

   You both throb and cry then, your bodies smack as they meet, obscene and wet as you chase your undoing. Tamaki knows he’s not going to last much longer, and he curses himself for it. He doesn’t want to stop, especially when you wince so sweetly when his thrusts are a little too deep. He wants to watch you suck his fingers forever, crying against his palm as he turns you into his perfect little slut. 

   “You’re gonna give me one more, aren’t you, angel? You owe me that, I saved your life after all.” He slides his fingers from your mouth, dragging your spit down your chin before grabbing you by the throat, “Answer if you can, I know it must be hard to speak when you’re getting fucked this good.” 

   His words drown you in lust, your hands claw at his back, painting angry red lines down the pretty porcelain canvas, “Take it! Fuck- Take it, Suneater, take it all.” 

   It’s not a demand, it’s a plea, it’s a craving formed deep within your freshly corrupted heart. 

   Your begging pulls desperate, whiny sounds from him. With his eyes screwed shut he lets the hand on your thigh manifest the tentacles in place of his fingers. He throws all of his energy into that, trying to stall the twitching of his dick as your hot insides massage him with their relentless pulsing.   

   “Are you sure about that?” He tests, letting the tentacles snake around your thigh before slithering down to where your bodies meet. 

   Immediately, one starts flicking at your clit, making your back go rigid as he grins down at his good work. 

   You wail his name, nails biting at his skin even more but he pays no mind. He has a mission, he’s going to take all of it. 

   He focuses on making his tentacles grow, two long enough to reach up your body and tug at your nipples, and one other snaking down through the mess you’re making to prod at your asshole. Your eyes widen with shock as your body ignites, it’s too much, it’s all too much. Every sensation is heightened, every poke and flick and thrust sends shards of pleasure flying through you, piercing you from every direction. 

   You let yourself cry completely then, throwing your head against Tamaki’s collar bone before sobbing into his chest. You know you’re cumming, you can feel it somewhere amongst all the other stimulation, but it’s nearly drowned out, and Tamaki is still fucking you just as hard as he was when this all started. 

   “More, you have more for me, I fucking know it.” He huffs as he finally pushes into your ass with the tentacle. 

   The ones on your nipples latch on with their suction cups as he fills you more and more. 

   “Give it to me, angel, give it all to your hero.” 

   That’s the final push, the last thing you need to send you into the most frenzied orgasm you’ve ever experienced. Your vision goes white as your body convulses, ripped apart by the flames of euphoria that turn everything you’ve ever known to ash. Somewhere in the distance you hear Tamaki praising you, telling you how tight you feel, how beautiful you look, how good you are for him. 

   It’s lost in the fray, though, all blurring together as you shake violently around him. The only thing that brings you back slightly, is the break in his voice when he sobs, “I’m gonna stuff that little cunt with my cum, I’m gonna make you mine.”

   Your hand is at the back of his neck instantly, pulling him down for a messy, aimless kiss. His moans spill into your mouth as his hips falter, turning to slow, stuttering thrusts as he starts to pump his release deep into you. 

   “I’m yours - I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours.” You chant it against his lips as his tears fall to your cheeks, mixing with your own as you both shatter for each other.

   Coming back down isn't easy at all. It's slow and needy, your hands still pulling at whatever skin they can grab, hips rolling against each other, trying with everything you both have to prolong that rapturous feeling. 

   Frantically, painfully, he pulls himself out of you. He slides his hot mouth down your body, nipping and sucking as he descends to your messy cunt. He spreads your legs wide so he can bury his face between them. He teases your clit briefly, but moves quickly to press his open mouth against your hole.

   Your skin boils as you watch the nasty show. His eyes cross sinfully and flutter shut as he tongue at your well used pussy. When he pulls back, his chin is covered in some wretched mixture of your combined releases. He moves back up your body like an animal stalking its prey.

   He grabs your jaw and you open so willingly. His mouth is on yours instantly, pushing the warm liquid onto your tongue with his own. It’s a spunky, intense flavor, almost overwhelming as he spreads it around your mouth. It creates a dark, blurry feeling in your chest, though. It makes you feel alive, it makes you want more.

   He pulls back slowly, a thick string of saliva and sin connecting your lips as he pants down at you. 

   “You’re such a good little girl.” 

   His lips are everywhere, pressing against your cheekbones, your nose, your forehead. His hands return to normal so he can cradle your face. You both lay there, still joined, catching your breath. 

   "Angel?" 

   The tenderness in his voice pulls you back down to earth, and when you open your eyes, you find yourself lost in his. It’s a harsh but marvelous contrast with the sharp edges of his previous behavior.

   "Does anything h-hurt?" He asks timidly. 

   The stutter is back, the anxious look in his eyes, the restlessness in his hands. 

   You reach out to hold his face like he's holding yours, "Tamaki, no, nothing hurts. You made me feel so good." 

   You don't ever want to be a source of hesitation for him again. You want to make it better. He's brilliant, he's brave, he saved your damn life. He doesn't need to be so scared around you. 

   "You're my hero, Suneater." You pull him down for a soft, intimate kiss. 

   He breathes out against you, more of his tears wet your cheeks but you don't mind. 

   He's allowed to feel this, he earned this. 

   When the kiss breaks he searches your face, waiting for you to laugh at him, to push him off, to change your mind. 

   You don't, though. 

   You stay there with him, loving him and full of him. 

   "And you're mine." 

   You both settle there, kissing skin that hasn't been kissed before, finding ways to make each other fall even more. 

   Tamaki tells himself he did the right thing. You don't ever have to know why Dabi chose your house to break into. You don't ever need to be told that he spent endless nights watching you from the window, because he has you know. 

   It would be wrong of him to tell you, you wouldn't understand it. It would break your heart and ruin everything. Then, it would get messy. You might try to run away, and that would mean he'd have to keep you in different ways. 

   He shakes the thoughts from his head. He can keep you like this, laid out and blushing for him, so soft and beautiful. 

   You belong to him now, and that's all that there is. 

   "Can I take care of you?” He asks softly, playing with the necklace he gave you as he gives you a shy glance. 

   “You just did.” You let yourself laugh a little as you play with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

   “No, not like that.” He smiles softly, dipping down to kiss your neck so softly you almost can’t feel it, “Like this.” 

   He presses his lips against a mark you didn’t know he made, lingering for a moment as his eyes flutter shut. 

   “These say that you’re mine.” His thumb traces over one of the circular bruises on your ribs, “They say you have someone protecting you.”

   The prospect makes your heart soar. He’s right, belonging to him means you’ll always be safe, you’ll always have somebody willing to fight for you, maybe even somebody willing to stay with you. 

   “This says that you belong to me.” He loops a finger around the delicate pearl on your necklace, pulling gently, not enough to make you go anywhere, but enough to make you feel the metal tug against the back of your neck. 

   ‘You do belong to me, don’t you.” He asks, a wild, fearful look in his eyes. 

   You do, you just told him so, you just cried to him and vowed that you were his just moments ago. 

   “I do, I belong to you, I swear.” You reassure him, pulling a deep sigh from his chest. 

   You don’t understand the way he aches for you, the way he’s addicted to you. He was already hooked, from just glances and flighty touches. Now, having felt your soft skin, the tuck of your waist, having seen you cry and heard you call his name, he’s willing to admit his obsession. 

   He does take care of you, he does it beautifully. He carries you to the bathroom where he sets you on the edge of the tub. He fills it with warm, soapy water before picking you up bridal style so he can settle into the water with you in his lap. 

   Neither of you bother to turn a light on, content with the glow of the moon shining through the skylight. Tamaki paints your shoulders with soft kisses as he rubs soothing circles into your back. He takes his sweet time, wiping away the sweat and the tears, mindful of the tender spots on the back of your thighs. 

   “Beautiful, you’re so beautiful.” He sighs, “An angel, nothing less.” 

   You melt into him, lost in his praise, blinded by his devotion as well as your own. 

   Tamaki is just as lost, if not more, only becoming more possessive with every gentle touch, with every whispered adoration. 

   This is how it’s meant to be, and you don’t ever need to know how it all fell into place. He did the right thing, after all. This isn’t a problem, he’s in love. He’s in love and now he has you. 

   He intends on keeping it that way.

[crazy56u]

Currently watching the ‘22 pilot, here’s my notes:

* I love how someone almost fought a DJ in the first three minutes.

* Between Sam jumping the gun while Al was over at whatever he was doing before the pilot, and Ben bailing from his party because of a text message, the real moral of the story for both versions of Quantum Leap is “If you can’t be bothered to wait just one more day before doing something, you are going to fuck over your life.”

* I know that they probably will show more of it later on to better fill the gap, but I love how they went from Ben quietly leaving his engagement part to just hard cutting to him entering the Accelerator.

* I can’t get over the fact that they added the spinning thing from that one Super Money Ball level to the Accelerator Chamber, it’s so stupid I love it.

* I love how you can tell that they knew they couldn’t dilly dally compared to the OG pilot. “Okay. ‘Genesis’ had two hours, we only have 43 minutes, pick up the fucking pace, guys!”

* While I’m low-key sad that they didn’t say “Fuck it” and used “Back in Time” for the bit of Ben looking around the square after exiting the van (I mean, BTTF came out ten days prior from Ben’s perspective, you could’ve done it), them using “Rebel Rebel” for the chase scene was a perfect consolation prize.

* Preeeetty sure “I’m glad it’s over.” “Over? That’s just phase one.” was meant to be low-key metatextual.

* The new show being set in 2022 still feels weird.

* I love how the Project’s hologram technology got worse over time.

* Ben broke the Project by basically doing the equivalent of doing a Windows 10 update.

* Calling it now: the twist is that either Ben or Sam leapt into Ben, wrote that code, and got him into the Accelerator before he leapt.

* “It’s a clustercuss.” #NBCAreCowards #LetTheCharactersSwear2022

* “Ziggy is one of the most important parts of the Project, figuring out what Ben needs to do to leap.” Meanwhile, there are several instances in Sam’s leaps where he went off of his gut, and that turned out to be right.

* Does Magic know Sam leapt into him in the past?

* It’s mature of Ben to immediately accept that he fucked up, even if he can’t remember it.

* What if the hologram of the promo picture of Sam’s face is all we get of Scott Bakula in this revival?

* I love how Ben promptly starts shitting on the concept of the show. “What kind of time travel project is this?!”

* “[Sam] never made it home. You can blame NBC for that; they never even bothered spelling his last name correctly.”

* “Think of me as your guide. Maybe even wife if we get you home.” “What?” “Ignore that last part.”

* “That guy’s great. Who cares if he talks to himself.” I am co-opting this mindset.

* Cole looks like Evil Wil Whedon.

* The bank really is the route of all evils. I say this as a fellow victim of foreclosure.

* “Look, Ryan is doing crime to help his wife and daughter, I gotta help him.” “No shit, Ben, he gets shot.”

* The “Dance Hall Days” driving sequence had laughably bad green screening.

* Ben literally is just Sam.

* Ben is the luckiest fucking man in the universe for immediately guessing the pawn shop guy’s son was named Constantine.

* “Look, Ben shut down the security systems, I should be fired.” “…it’s the fucking pilot, dude, calm down!”

* “Ben, you can’t tell him anything, you gotta pretend to be Richie.” “I’m just gonna ignore that.”

* The fact that the tuxedo shit from the pilot turned out to be the same episode as the getaway driver shit was almost as amazing of a twist as Ben learning almost too late that he’s actually an undercover cop.

* Ben is so fucking lucky to be in 1985, because of this was 2022, they would’ve killed a cop and gotten away with it.

* Quantum Leap is like doing mushrooms.

* …okay, the twist that Addison was the one originally planned to be the leaper is a soft pseudo-confirmation of a pet theory of mine: Sam almost chickened out at the last minute and tried floating the idea to Al that he should be the one to leap, but the conversation went so poorly that after Al left to do that thing that night, Sam went and leapt partially out of guilt on top of all the stress.

* “[Ziggy]’s a weird name.” So’s Ben Song. Checkmate.

* “Okay, so I could die, cool. [“Take On Me” intensifies]”

* “Okay, you just punched the fuck out of a guy while in a tux, who are you?!” James Bond, motherfucker!

* >shows up

>tells friend he’s stopping a heist

>doesn’t elaborate

>leaves

* Okay, seriously, the fucking tango scene is 100% James Bond level energy, I love this pilot.

* “Look, your C4 won’t do shit, everyone’s inside.” “Duly noted. (opens fire into the ceiling)” Ben, you fucking asked for that.

* “Okay, let’s disarm the bomb!” “With what?!” “… … …uh… (grabs and chucks bomb down a hole)”

* “Don’t lie, and be with your loved ones.” - Ben Song, self-aware hypocrite.

* Addison quoting Ben’s speech back to him when he doesn’t remember it hit different.

* The Windows 10 Update is the antagonist of the series.

* Al died in 2021 and Sam still never got home in time. Saying that out loud fucking hurts.

* “Okay, I know we gave you guys a lot of sad shit in the last three minutes, but to make up for that, the next episode involves space, and no one’s a monkey this time.”

Final verdict: I don’t get why some people on here said this sucked, I loved this pilot.

I have high hopes for this.

[troquantary]

Edward Cullen: That Boy Ain’t Right

So I was doing a reread of @therealvinelle 's collection of Twilight metas, as one does, and in "Edward, Denial, and a Human Girlfriend" she mentions that she doesn't believe Edward is sane. I thought, "ha, yeah, he's definitely not," and also, "but wait, what does that mean exactly, please say more about that." But since she's already inundated with asks, I've decided to use my own head-muscle and explore this idea. (TL;DR: I start out more or less organized, synthesize some points Vinelle has made across several posts (and have hopefully linked to them all where relevant but please tell me if not), touch a little on narcissism, then take a hard left into the negative effects of being a telepath.)

Just a couple things to note at the outset, though. Theses have been written already (probably) about Edward as an abuser. Edward being insane doesn't negate that at all; he's definitely an asshole and just...a disaster of a human being. (I find it more funny than anything, but YMMV.) I'm also going to try to avoid talking specifically about mental illness and how it relates (or doesn't relate) to abusive behavior -- that's territory I'm not really equipped to discuss, like at all. My starting point is "Edward has a deeply warped perception of reality," not "Edward has X disorder."

So: deeply warped perception of reality. The evidence? Goes behind a cut, because my one character trait is Verbose.

Vinelle provides a great example of it in the post linked above, which I'll just quote because she does words good: "[Edward] keeps acting like his romance with Bella is a romantic tragedy, and all the cast of Twilight are actors on a stage making it as sublime as possible." Edward's the one to pursue Bella, but he does so with the full belief, from the very beginning, that it will never last; Bella will "outgrow" him, go on her human way, and he can spend the rest of eternity brooding magnificently over his too-short romantic bliss. [Insert premature ejaculation joke.] Turning her is never an option, even though Alice, Noted Psychic, says that romancing Bella will either end with her dead (exsanguinated) or dead (vampire).

This framing, where he's a dark anti-hero in love with -- but never tainting! -- the pure maiden and eventually leaving her in a grand, tragic sacrifice to preserve her soul? It's fucking bonkers. Bella isn't a person to him in this scenario. As Vinelle points out, Bella's never really a person to him at all; he falls in love with his own mental construct, cherry-picking from what he observes of her behavior and her responses to his 20 (thousand) Questions to convince himself that she is the ideal woman.

Bella's not the only one who gets the projection/cardboard-cutout treatment. Edward sees everything and everyone through a highly particular, personalized lens. He filters his entire reality, which we all do to an extent, but the thing with Edward is that he starts with his conclusions and then only pays attention to the evidence that supports those conclusions. Often that evidence consists of what he admits in New Moon are only "surface" thoughts -- but recognizing that limitation doesn't keep him from taking those thoughts as representative of what people are. Edward then becomes absolutely convinced by his own "reasoning" and won't be swayed from what he has decided is Objectively True. It's obvious with Bella; it's also painfully obvious with Rosalie. (Vinelle explains this and brings up Edward's raging Madonna/Whore complex in the same post, so refer to that again -- she's right.)

He also catastrophizes. Everything. Bella's just vibing in her room, rereading Wuthering Heights for the 87th time? She's gonna be hit by a meteor, better sneak into her room while she sleeps. Bella's going to the beach with the filthy mundanes their human classmates? She's gonna fall in the ocean. Jasper's cannibal pals are stopping by for a visit, but know not to hunt in the area? DISASTER, DEFCON 1, ALSO FUCK YOU JASPER FOR EVEN EXISTING IN MY AND BELLA'S SPHERE YOU UNSPEAKABLE BURDEN. Edward must believe that Bella is vulnerable and in near-constant peril, to support the reality he has created in which he is the villain turned protector and maybe?? hero??? (!!!) for his beloved. So when the actual, James-shaped danger arrives, he goes berserk, snarling and flipping his shit and generally not helping the situation. His fantasy demands that Bella remain human, so instead of doing the very thing Alice, Noted Psychic, assures him will neutralize the threat (and not just a threat to Bella, either, but to Bella's family and any other human James might decide to include in the "game"), he vetoes it immediately, no discussion. Bella Must Not Turn, and he sticks to those guns despite James nearly reducing her to ground beef, despite leaving Bella catatonic with depression (but human! success!) in New Moon, despite Aro's order and his family's vote and, let's not forget, Bella's clearly and repeatedly stated desire to be a vampire. It's going to happen. But he doesn't accept it until Renesmee busts out of Bella like the Kool-Aid man and the poor girl's heart finally, unequivocally stops.

Sane people don't behave this way. I don't want to slap labels on Edward, but I can't help but note that he comes across as highly narcissistic. He's the only real person in his universe, the lone player among us NPCs. That probably has a lot to do with him being frozen in the mindset and maturity of a seventeen-year-old boy, but I think it's also just...him, on some fundamental level. His failure to connect with others and recognize them as full, independent beings with their own wants and priorities isn't like Bella's failure -- she's badly depressed. Edward is...something else, and I get the sense that his sanity has been steadily deteriorating over time. And a cursory google of narcissistic traits turns up some familiar-looking stuff. He's self-loathing, yes, but also grandiose; he hates himself for the monster he is (and hates most vampires besides Esme and Carlisle for their monstrosity, too) but still feels superior to humans, to the extent that he felt entitled to human blood and resented Carlisle for depriving him of his "proper" diet. He eventually returns to Carlisle, but he's far from content -- the beginning of Midnight Sun finds him in a state of ennui, bored and dismissive of (if not outright disgusted by) everyone around him, that has apparently persisted for years and years. He doesn't play the piano, he doesn't compose, he doesn't enjoy anything...at least until Bella comes along and then he becomes obsessed to a disturbing degree with her and his new, romantic tragedy spin on reality.

[Next-day edit: I’m not sure where else to fit this in, but the way Edward casually contemplates violence against people who have, at best, mildly annoyed him is...chilling. I have a hard time writing off his strategizing how to murder the entire Biology class as a result of bloodlust -- it’s so calculated, nothing like the blackout state of thirst Emmett describes when he encountered his own “singer,” and that is probably the default for when a vampire is extremely thirsty. But even ignoring the Biology class incident, Edward still does things like consider, with disturbing frequency, how he might grievously injure or kill Mike Newton, all because...Edward considers him his romantic rival (despite Bella barely giving the kid the time of day). He thinks about slapping Mike through a wall, which might be an amusing slapstick image, except as a vampire Edward’s actually capable of turning this boy’s skeleton to a fine powder. So it’s, y’know, kind of sick when you think about it.

But even worse than that, when Bella tells Edward about how she flirted with Jacob to get at that sweet, sweet vampire lore, Edward chuckles and then, after dropping Bella home, flippantly observes that now that the treaty’s broken, why not genocide? I’m not even kidding, it’s right there in Midnight Sun; he seriously thinks about the fact that he’d be technically justified now in wiping out the entire tribe because a teenager tried to impress a girl with a spooky story. That is fucked. Remember, Edward was there with Carlisle when the treaty was first established. He knows how remarkable it is that they even came to a truce in the first place, that it was only ever possible because Carlisle is...well, Carlisle, and that it marks a pretty significant moment in supernatural history. He doesn’t care; he doesn’t respect it, or he’d never think something like “Ha ha, if I went and killed them all, I wouldn’t even be wrong. I mean, I won’t do it, but I’m just saying, I wouldn’t be wrong.”

Again: not the thought process or behavior of a sane person. (Or a person that respects life in general -- sorry Carlisle, big L.)]

Finally, whether he's a narcissist or not, I think the fact that Edward has constant, unavoidable access to everyone's thoughts is a powerful contributing factor to his instability. He can tune out the mental noise to an extent, but he can't stop it -- so he comes to rely on it like another sense. This causes issues with disconnect and lack of empathy, of course, but there's another facet to this shit diamond: he's basically experiencing a ceaseless flow of intrusive thoughts. His narration in Midnight Sun suggests that he "hears" the words people think, can "see" what they visualize in their mind's eye, and can sense the emotional "tone" and intensity of their thoughts. Therefore, perceiving Jasper's thirst through his thoughts makes Edward more aware of his own, "doubling" the discomfort. This would be a lot to deal with even from just his immediate coven members, but Edward gets all of this pouring into his head like a firehose on a day-to-day basis because the Cullens live right alongside humans. I know Meyerpires have galaxy brains or whatever, but that's a ton to process.

Besides the compounding effect on his own thirst when he "feels" the thirst of others, Meyer never suggests that Edward has difficulty separating his own thoughts from other people's; even when he was newly turned, he recognized Carlisle's "voice" in his head as Carlisle's. That would create a whole different host of issues around identity, but it looks like Edward's escaped that particular torment. However, I can easily imagine that what he does experience is just shy of unbearable nonetheless, with an eroding effect on his sanity over decades. He can't sleep to escape it; he's on a dishwater diet and probably (like the rest of his family) experiencing a perpetual, low-grade physical discomfort due to his thirst never being fully satisfied; and he's around far more people than is the norm for vampires -- even discounting all the humans, his own coven is unusually large -- meaning more noise.

Honestly, it would be weirder if he were all there, considering.

And even though I feel like I lost a sense of structure around where I started ranting about telepathy, I've written like 1.5k words about Edward fucking Cullen and I think that's enough for one post.

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Ch. 11: Blast from the Past (Siblings)

AO3

Prev

Swinging side by side with her father was an amazing experience. Marinette tried hard to stifle her laughter, figuring Batman wouldn’t appreciate it if word got around that the newest vigilante was a giggler. He swings to the next roof and pauses, Marinette frowning as he listens to something on his comm.

“Alright. All hands on deck. Robin, you’ll stay on the roof with Ladybird.” He instructs, Marinette frowns. Was he really sticking her younger brother on babysitting duty? And why couldn’t she go wherever it is he’s going?

“What’s happening?” She asks, crossing her arms.

“There are several crates of weapons and a few dozen armed men in a warehouse a mile out from here. You and Robin are going to stay on the roof to make sure no one leaves before the police arrive.” He instructs before turning and grappling away. Marinette frowns, but follows behind him. Does he really not think that she can handle herself? And she knows this is going to cause problems with Damian. He already doesn’t like her and now he has to stay with her. She watches as he swoops down into the warehouse and she lands silently on the roof.

“I do not appreciate this.” Robin says, stepping out of the shadows with crossed arms. Although she can’t see his eyes behind his mask, Marinette knows he’s glaring at her. She just rolls her eyes.

“I don’t either. I don’t need someone watching me 24/7. I can take care of myself.” She says, and with a sudden jolt, she realizes this is the first time he’s willingly speaking to her. The first time they’re talking and it’s to argue. Lovely.

“If you had simply stayed away, then I would have been allowed to follow Father. Instead, I am being punished for your insolence.” He adds. Is he going to lecture her the entire time Batman and the others are fighting in the warehouse, she thinks, raising an eyebrow. She starts to snark back, but a shadow moving behind him pulls her attention instead. Narrowing her eyes, she watches as a figure steps out of the shadow, a gun raised at her.

“Well well well. What do we have here?” The man asks, a smirk on his face. Marinette glances at Robin, trying to see if he recognizes the voice. She doesn’t see any recognition, so she immediately catalogues the man as an unknown threat. Chances were that he was involved with the group currently fighting in the warehouse and not an actual Batman level villain. But he still had a gun, so she wouldn’t underestimate him. Robin turns to face the man and he immediately takes the gun off Marinette, pointing it instead at Robin’s head. Marinette narrows her eyes. She may not know him very well, but he was still her little brother. And she wasn’t about to let some stupid goon threaten him. Flicking her wrist, she aims her yoyo at the man’s gun, smirking as she manages to yank it from his grasp. She catches the gun as it flies back with her yoyo, holding it carefully and trying to ignore the internal panic. She’d never held a gun before, never wanted to or had a reason to. And she really didn’t want to hold it now, but she didn’t want the man to know that she was scared of the gun, because that would give him an advantage. She just grins at the dumbfounded look on the man’s face, his shock enough so that Robin was able to knock him down without a fight. He pulls a zip tie out of his utility belt and ties the man’s hands together.

“Well that was disappointing. I was hoping for more of a fight.” Marinette teases, hoping that the tension between her and Robin would break. She watches as his lips purse slightly, not sure what the expression meant.

“I hardly think one buffoon with a gun would be much of a fight for either of us.” He finally says, and her eyes light up. Success!

“But if it was the right foe, they could surely take you down.” A new voice says, and this time Marinette can practically feel the tension rolling off of Robin.

“Slade.” He says, obviously tensing for a fight.

“Damian. I wasn’t aware you were in possession of a Miraculous.” The man, Slade, says, turning towards her. Marinette stiffens, uncomfortable by both his words and the fact that she can’t see the man’s face because of his costume.

“I’m not in possession of anything.” He says, his jaw clenched. Marinette shifts into a defensive position, desperately wishing that she had a comm. Surely the rest of the family had heard this man’s intrusion through Robin. But she wished she could hear them. Whether it was giving information about the man or reassurance that the rest of them would be there soon, she wanted to hear them.

“Tell me, little girl, how did you stumble upon one of the most powerful pieces of magic in the universe? And why haven’t I met you before?” He asks, stepping towards them. Glaring at the man, Marinette steps forward so that she’s standing in line with Robin, unwilling to cower behind her brother.

“I don’t think we run in the same circles. And I assure you, I didn’t stumble across anything. I was chosen to wield this Miraculous.” She says, shoving false confidence in her tone when all she wanted was to grab Robin and run. Slade oozed a sense of wrongness and danger. Not a combination she wanted anywhere near her or her family.

“Mmm. Perhaps not. But we’ll never know, will we. I’m going to have to ask you for that Miraculous now, dear.” He says, her eyes narrow.

“I’m not sure if that’s worked for you in the past, but it’s not going to work today. You’re not the first creep in a mask asking for my Miraculous.” She snarks, hand twitching as she analyzes him and tries to come up with a plan. Without any warning, he lunges towards them, a sword suddenly in his grasp. Marinette jumps back, going on the defense as Robin lunges forward with his own katana. Marinette flits around both of them, throwing her yoyo at Slade every time he got too close to Robin. It was obvious the man was well trained, and it was also obvious that he had little patience for the two.

“You’ve improved, but you’re still not good enough.” He hisses, lunging towards Robin, his sword aimed at the boy’s chest. Marinette lunges towards them, shoving Robin out of the way. She shrieks in pain as Slade slides his sword into her shoulder. She can’t see the man’s face, but she can just imagine his smirk. He puts his other hand on his sword, and she just knows he’s going to twist. She can’t let that happen. So instead, she jerks back, screaming as she pulls herself off the sword. Robin launches himself at Slade once again, furiously slashing at the man. Slade lifts his sword up and Marinette flicks out her yoyo, grunting in pain as she irritates her shoulder. But she’s able to wrap her yoyo around the man’s wrist. Smirking, she tugs roughly, pulling the man off balance enough so that Robin can disarm him. Just as she lets her shoulders relax, Slade yanks his arm, tugging her to him. She yelps in pain as he wraps her into a chokehold. Staring at Robin, she tries not to panic. They’re gonna come for them, right? The rest of her family? Surely they’ve beaten those goons by now. They definitely heard the problem on the roof through Robin’s comm, right?

“Unhand her.” Robin says, shifting his position now that he has two swords.

“I don’t think I will. Not for free, anyway. You want her alive for some reason.” Slade says, tightening his hold. Marinette lets out a choked breath, desperately trying to pull in enough oxygen.

“What do you want?” Robin asks, Marinette tries to shake her head, already guessing what the man wants. She’d rather die than give some psycho the power of Tikki. Not only could he destroy the world, but Paris would also be lost without the Miraculous Cure.

“Her earrings. Let me take them, and I’ll let her live….this time.” He says.

“No….don’t...not..worth it.” Marinette manages to say, just barely able to shake her head. She gags as Slade tightens his grip again, black spots dotting her vision.

“Ladybird-” Robin says, and Marinette is certain she’s hallucinating now. Because he almost sounds pained.

“Don’t.” She begs, fighting to stay conscious. As she watches him, she sees a smirk make its way onto his face. That’s good. Good. Smirking brother means….what does it mean? She’s not sure. All she knows is that suddenly, the pressure on her neck is gone. She falls to her knees, gasping for breath and wincing at the burning in her shoulder. Too much. Too much all at once. A hand on her good shoulder shakes her from her thoughts and she weakly hits at it.

“Ladybird, it’s me.” A voice says. She blinks, opening her eyes, wincing at the pain enveloping her. Looking closer at the figure, she sighs in relief, letting herself slump down. She’s safe. Arms pick her up gently and she smiles softly, tiredness hitting her as the adrenaline finally fades. Curling in closer, she mumbles into Batman’s chest.

“Thanks dad.”

---

Bruce Wayne was pissed. And the only person who could piss him off so much was himself. He’d left Damian and Marinette on the roof alone because he thought they’d be safer. He didn’t think the two would be able to get into any trouble up there. Of course he would be wrong. Of course Slade Wilson would choose tonight to come after Damian. And of course the man just had to know about the Miraculous.

Hearing his daughter’s pained screams over his son’s comm would haunt his nightmares. It’d likely become the unholy symphony over the images of Jason’s broken body and Damian’s limp form. Images that’d haunted him for years and would continue to do so until he dies. When he was young, his nightmares were just of his parents. But he had seen things much worse since becoming a father. And now he’d heard much worse. Shaking his head, he tries hard to hold onto the one bright part of the evening.

Marinette had called him dad.

It was the first time she’d called him anything other than ‘Mr. Wayne’. His heart warmed at the thought, but everything came crashing down again when he remembered. Slade Wilson was gone. He’d managed to get away while his focus was on Marinette’s wellbeing. Which means his daughter was now in even more danger. Damian had informed him of the man’s obsession with the Miraculous. It was something they’d need to talk about, but not tonight. After she passed out in his arms, he brought her back to the manor. Alfred stitched her shoulder, and Bruce brought her to her room. It wasn’t decorated yet, but he’d made sure to pick out a room for her after finding out about her. Even if she didn’t want anything to do with them after this, she’d always have a room here.

Sighing, Bruce sticks his head into Marinette’s room, just to reassure himself that she was there. That she was safe. It was something he did with each of his kids, every time they were injured. Every time he was afraid that he would lose them. The sight in front of him makes him pause and pull out his phone to take a picture. They might be mad at him for it later, but he’d curse himself forever if he let this moment slip away. All of his children were piled in Marinette’s room. The girl herself was on the bed, curled into a ball despite her injured shoulder. At the foot of her bed was Damian, his face peaceful for once. Jason, Dick and Tim were all in a pile on the floor, pillows and blankets scattered both beneath them and on top of them. They were an impossibly tangled pile of limbs, guarding their youngest sister. He smiles softly, eyes finally falling on Cass curled up in an armchair that she must’ve pulled next to Marinette’s bed. Satisfied that all were well, Bruce shuts the door gently, not wanting to risk waking any of them.

His children were together, and safe. For now.

Next

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @imarivers8

[markosmate]

lady

Pairing; Marko x Emerson!Reader

Summary; Moving to a different state with your younger brothers and mother just to live with your grandfather was hard enough, but falling in love with a vampire and then watching your brother do the same thing? Much different story.

Warnings; strong language

au://  Welp lovelies I had promised you a Marko series in February that I started writing while I was manic, then after writing a good five/six chapters I fell into a deep dark hole of depression and didn’t write anything but sad, worthless poetry about a boy I’m in love with who doesn’t love me back :) But now it’s May, a spark of inspiration and happiness has suddenly hit me and I’ve come back to this series to finally deliver it to you!! I hope y’all like it cause I literally stress cried over finishing it three different times :,)

I’d also like to point out that any kind of feedback at all is so so appreciated. Most of my inspiration comes from feeding off of people’s reactions to what I write. So if you enjoy it or have any recommendations or comments at all please please don’t be shy to send me an ask or DM or even comment to let me know :( Thank you and enjoy!!

Part 2

I wasn’t exactly mad about moving, there was nothing holding me in Phoenix that I would be particularly sad about leaving behind. The only thing that struck a nerve was that it was dumped out of nowhere on me. Suddenly Mom had divorced Dad, let him keep everything, and made plans with Grandpa for us to move into his place with him. A little prior warning would have been appreciated, but regardless when we were told it didn’t change the fact that everything we knew was changing. Sam wasn’t happy about it at all, leaving his friends, leaving Dad. Michael... well Michael didn’t really have an opinion. In my view, he was just indifferent. He didn’t really care where the hell we were as long as he had a motorcycle, a job, and some hot chicks to swoon over.

But here we were, packed into Mom’s truck and driving through a town that I’d most likely have memorized like the back of my hand in a good few days. As the three in the car argued over which station to keep on, I turned my head and leaned my forehead on the window of the car. I watched the beach as we drove along the road, and admired the waves hitting against the sand.

I was ready to drift off until we got to Grandpa’s house when a short, exited yell left Mom’s lips. “Oh!” She grinned happily as Sam landed on a station familiar to her. “Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! Oh, that’s from my era! Grooving on a Sunday afternoon!” She sung along with the song as Sam threw his head back and groaned in protest. I laughed at her antics, enjoying seeing my Mom acting so carefree and happy. 

“Alright, keep going, keep going.” Mom and Sam agreed with each other at the same time, Mom leaning over to continue skipping through the stations. Finally, the next station was agreed on and my pounding head thanked the universe for the quiet that I hadn’t been able to achieve the entire drive here. “Hey we’re almost there!”

“Ugh,” Sam scrunched his nose up in disgust after taking a deep breath. I leaned forward to wrap my arms around his head-rest and pull my face closer to the open window. The pungent smell hit me, and I recognized it immediately, low tide, but it wasn’t bad - anything to do with the beach was calming to me regardless. “What’s that smell?”

“Ah!” Mom breathed in deeply and turned to share a knowing grin with me, “That’s the ocean air!”

I turned to look at the welcoming sign, taking in the colors and faded lettering. “Smells like someone died.” Sam muttered as Mom tutted at him softly. 

“That’s likely.” I muttered to Michael, nudging his head in the direction of the back of the sign, where in big red spray-painted letters sat the phrase “Murder Capitol of the World.”

“Aw guys, I know the last year hasn’t been easy. But I do think you’re really going to enjoy living in Santa Carla.” Mom tried to remain happy about the situation, but a shared glance with Michael after we both read over the sign revealed there wasn’t much he was excited for.

The rest of the drive only increased my excitement. Hippies galore filled the streets, a large amusement park covered most of the boardwalk, and the rest was filled with small shops and food stands. We stopped for awhile so Mom could give some teenagers rummaging through garbage some money to eat and so Michael could unhinge his bike and ask around for job openings, but before I could even think to step out of the car and get a look around we were already heading into the backroads to get to Grandpa’s house.

Grandpa’s house was farther into the plains than expected, but still only a good fifteen to twenty minute drive away from town. Before Mom could ever fully park the car, I had already jumped out and was looking around the property. Michael pulled his bike up next to Mom’s car, and they all took a good few seconds to look around at all the wood carvings and chimes before turning their vehicles off. I took note of the horses grazing in one of the back fields before walking around the front of the truck and seeing a man laying on his back across the front porch steps.

Sam lead the way towards him before Mom cut in front and marched up the steps to squat beside him. “Dad?” She questioned gently. “Dad?” The three of us leaned closer to get a better look.

“Looks like he’s dead.” Michael remarked.

“Like... really dead.” I quipped in, raising an eyebrow at Mom.

“No, no. He’s just a deep sleeper.” She brushed our comments off.

“If he’s dead can we go back to Phoenix?” Sam remarked, earning a snort from me and a sharp look from Mom. 

Suddenly Grandpa sat up, a cocky smirk apparent on his face. “Playing dead. And from what I hear, doing a damn good job of it.”

Sam rolled his eyes in exasperation before Mom laughed faintly. “Oh, Dad!”

-

That night, Mom decided that it would be good for the four of us to leave the house after a night of unpacking and explore the boardwalk when it’s at its liveliest. I could admit it looked much more enjoyable now that it was dark and a little chilly, the sweaty people that had been occupying it earlier were now less sweaty and more stoned.

Almost as soon as Mom’s car and Michael’s bike were parked, Mom sent us off on our own so she could spend some time staking out a job in one of the family-owned shops. “Do you think she’ll be able to find one?” Sam questioned as the three of us weaved through crowds, trying to find our way to the beach concert. We could certainly hear it, we were just having a bit of trouble actually getting to it.

“One what? A job?” Michael scoffed as if it was hard to believe, still bitter over the fact there was no legal jobs for him to get hired in.

I laughed, elbowing him softly in the side, knowing that this place was exactly his vibe and in time he would most likely come to love living here. Sam was the only one I was actually worried about. “She’ll probably be able to find one. What, with all these missing people, there’s bound to be tons of job openings.”

“You’re telling me. It’s like there’s hundreds of bullet-boards around every corner with dozens of people missing. This place really is the Murder Capital.” Michael remarked as the concert finally came into our line of sight.

“Don’t say that!” Sam pleaded, shoving Michael’s shoulder with his eyebrows knitted tightly.

Michael just held his hand up in surrender and with one last shrug of his shoulders he turned to me. “You checking out the shops? We’ll find you once we get bored.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I agreed, turning sharply on my heel and blindly making my way back into the crowd. The concert was loud, sweaty, and crowded, and it wasn’t even my style of music - the last thing I wanted to do was spend my first night there. I figured it would be much more productive if I were to check out all the shops and stands running up and down the entire area, maybe find some new pieces of jewelry, or even a possible summer job opportunity.

Many places caught my eye, and I made a mental note to check them out the next time I had free money to spend, as it wouldn’t be wise for me to make an impulse-buy when I’m so close to being completely broke. Instead a small stand in the middle of the walkway drew me to it. A piercing stand. One person working on someone already sitting on the chair. There was a large wall selection of different studs, and many different kinds of disinfectants lined along the counter.

I walked closer to the wall, admiring all the different designs they had. I’d absolutely love to get a helix or orbital piercing, but I knew it wasn’t the wisest to spend money doing something like that at a small stand on a boardwalk in Santa Carla of all places. I was suddenly broken out of my thoughts when a voice spoke up directly behind me.

“It’s a scam, you know.” I jumped, hand flying to my chest, and whipping around to look at the owner. A teenage boy, my age, maybe a little older, with long curly blond hair and a grin that could have probably wooed me into his bed by the end of the night had he not literally just scared the shit out of me.

I laughed breathlessly, shaking my head. “What is?”

“The piercings. If you need one done, I could do it for you. But they use the guns instead of a needle which will definitely infect if you’re planning on doing a cartilage one.” He explained with a tilt of his head as he turned and began making his way towards the restaurants. I took that as an invite to follow, jogging to catch up and walking next to him.

“You know a lot about piercings?” I tried to make small talk, not wanting him to get away just yet.

He nodded with a confident smirk. “I did my own, and my friends. Someone had to learn.” I laughed a little at his mock-annoyed tone and shoved my hands into my pockets to appear to be doing something. He suddenly stopped and turned to me, holding out his hand. “Marko, by the way.”

“Ivory.” I accepted his hand and we both shook, hard and firm.

“You’re new.” He nodded as if finally understanding something that had been going on inside his own head. “I would’ve noticed you before if you’d been here all along.”

We dropped each other’s hand and I gave him a quizzical look. “What do you mean by that?”

He barked out a laugh and shook his head. “Nothing rude, you’re just too gorgeous to go unnoticed around here.” Before I could reply, another voice cut in from a few yards away.

“Marko! Marko, man, we’re supposed to meet David in ten!” I looked over to see another punk-looking dude calling out to Marko with his hands cupped around his mouth.

I laughed and look back towards the curly blond. “See you around?”

He nodded in confirmation, sending me one last crooked smile before turning to jog over to his other friend. I turned as well, making my way back into the crowd and away from the middle lane stands. I didn’t make it very far before the body of my youngest brother crashed into my side. I glanced down at him in bewilderment as we used each other to steady ourselves.

“Sam? Aren’t you supposed to be with Michael?” I laughed as he looked as though he’d just had the weirdest conversation of his life.

“Well, I was. Then he saw some girl at the concert and wandered after her so I went to check out the comic store.” He explained, shrugging before letting his eyes wander around once more in search of Michael. I rolled my eyes, of course Michael left Sam behind to go chase after some girl. It didn’t take long to find him, he was only a little further down the stretch of restaurants. He was more towards the end, walking out of the crowd near where the last building - a bar - sat in place.

We walked up behind him, and as soon as I was at his side I followed his eyes to a girl who was walking behind a small child, hand on his shoulder, and steering him in a certain direction. She was pretty - with big, curly hair and a beautiful smile that curled her lips up as her eyes grazed over all the lights of the carousel one last time for the night. I followed her line of sight, trying to place why Michael was following her instead of just walking up and introducing himself, but I immediately realized what the problem was.

She hoisted herself up onto the back of a motorcycle, accepting the help of the blond driver. He had a spiked mullet, dressed in all black, and when he realized Michael was staring at his girl, a cocky kind of smirk crossed his face. His friends parked next him all revved their engines to a start, and I tore my eyes from the platinum blond to see the others. I didn’t manage to catch a good look at two of them, because my eyes immediately looked onto those of the punk from earlier who’d started a conversation with me over pierced ears.

He was already looking at me, and when he realized my attention immediately locked onto him, a predatory look filled the black circles of his eyes and his lips formed into a boyish smirk directed exactly at me. He lifted his hand in a short wave, laughing along with the friend who called him away from me earlier as he shoved Marko’s shoulder in a teasing way. I lifted my hand in a small acknowledging wave back, but was knocked out of my small trance by Sam, who began teasing Michael.

“Come on, she stiffed ya!” Sam laughed harmlessly, gently punching Michael’s shoulder and turning to probably go and find Mom. I broke my gaze away from Marko immediately, turning to follow after Sam and not bothering to look back at all as I heard the bikes pull out and speed off down the road.

“Too bad she left with Mr. Mullet, she was pretty.” I tried to break the tension with Michael, I really didn’t want him to be upset over the lose of the girl, he still had all of Santa Carla’s teenage population of girls to meet.

He cracked a smile and nudged his shoulder into mine. “She really was.”

Once we made it home for the night, I separated from both my brothers and made my way into my own room. It was the smallest of all of ours, but that’s the main reason why I had chose it. It was cozy, and cute. I liked the way it came out once I had finished decorating it.

I couldn’t help but let my mind wander to those boys on the motorcycles from earlier that night. Marko seemed nice enough, even if I didn’t know whether or not I was brave enough to try to pursue a friendship with his more than intimidating friends. Just as I came to the conclusion that I should just get over myself and approach them, a sharp sting of anxiety wedged itself into my gut and nauseous filled my stomach and rose up in my throat. No. I didn’t need to become friends with those boys, there was something off, something I didn’t need to meddle in.

If I saw them again, I’d avoid eye contact and conversation completely. I was never able to understand my anxiety, but I always listened to it when it struck me.