#and he sure as hell found his way to make me suffer just a tiny bit more

[ughscara]

first my phone now my cat — PLEASE JUST LET ME PROOFREAD AND FIX STUFF IN PEACE

[gayfanservice]

Kei with a male reader. figure their on the debate club or something and Kei vents to them because their a non biased person regarding volleyball and his team. Figure they give encouragement and kei just bluntly asks them out.

Guess who’s back (back again) I am back! (Once again)

Friends to lovers, i dont know anything about debating

*********

“-and that tiny-ass-mother-”

“Too strong, Kei, try to keep the emotions at an even level so it doesn’t cloud your judgement.”

“Huh? I’m not debating this, he’s tiny!” Kei huffed, cheeks pink and puffed ever so slightly as (Y/N) chuckled.

“Right, sorry, continue.”

Kei was currently flopped on (Y/N)’s bed, who was sitting at his desk, a notepad and pen in hand, looking like a therapist.

“He’s so annoying. We’re doing basic drills and these two just keep arguing! They argue about this, they argue about that! All they do is argue!” His hands dramatically extended to the air.

“Mhm, and how does that make you feel?” Kei sighed at his friend’s poor attempt to be funny, who found it just a little funny to fuck with him. If Kei didn’t like him so much, he would’ve kicked his ass for not taking this outrageous news to heart.

“Awful, because after practice I came here only to have your ass joking about my suffering.” There was obviously no malice behind the words; a playful undertone was hanging from them as his heart sped up. He huffed, again, and rolled to his side, cheeks turning more red, “If you were there, you’d understand.”

“Maybe, the only teammate of yours I know is Yamaguchi.” (Y/N) continued writing in the notepad for a few seconds. “Do you know why they fight?”

“‘Cause they’re stupid.” Kei snorted out, a proud look on his face as he rolled onto his back. “And immature, can’t forget that part.” He heard his friend hum, acknowledging his words. “But, you have no idea how much that twerp gets me so… angry! Genuinely, he’s the most annoying guy I know!”

“Have the captains-”

“Captain, technically there’s just one captain.”

“Just gonna down-play one, got it.” (Y/N) grinned, “Has the captain and co-captain, or whatever term you guys use, talked to them?”

Remembering how the two were literally thrown out because they couldn’t get along with each other, Kei bursted into a short, obnoxiously loud laugh, “You have no idea, they literally kicked them out of the gym until they could get along!”

Surprise was evident on (Y/N)’s face, “Wow, that, uh, yeah, that is a pretty intense hatred.”

Kei let out a long, exasperated sigh. “I can’t deal with those two, I swear.” He mumbled, rubbing his face, glasses pushed up to his forehead. “Thanks for letting me rant, without much interruption of course.”

“No prob, dog-”

“Gross.” If only he didn’t like this debating nerd.

“It’s always good to get stuff off your chest.”

“Is that way you joined the debate club?”

“No, I just like telling people they’re wrong.”

“I- that happens? I thought… actually, I don’t know what I thought.” (Y/N) cackled as he continued writing. Kei’s heart swelled at the noise, staring at the faint outlines of those glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling, no doubt that (Y/N) had since childhood. He sighed obnoxiously loud, again, “What am I gonna doooo,”

“Well you could quit-”

“No?” Kei scoffed at the audacity of this man to even think he’d quit volleyball because of those two dumbasses.

“-or you can tough it out. Just because they don’t get along now, doesn’t mean they never will. I bet in a couple weeks they’ll tolerate each other and stop being annoying.” The emotionally intelligent one said, still writing in the notepad.

“Yeah, I will.” As if he wasn’t already doing that.

The two sat in silence, for only a couple minutes. Kei went onto his phone, scrolling through whatever app was available to him. His face was still warm, heart still faster than normal. He liked the other boy for quite some time now, but he never had the guts to actually say anything. Hell, Kei wasn’t even sure if (Y/N) even liked him as a friend, but at this point it’d be awkward if he didn’t, so he assumes yes.

Kei took a deep breath, heart pounding faster and face turning red as he sat up, phone discarded to the side. Might as well confess after spilling your hateful guts, right?

“(Y/N),” He got a hum as said boy stopped writing, making eye contact with a red Kei, “Wanna go out with me?”

(Y/N) froze, the bluntness and randomness completely taken him by surprise. He felt his face heat up and tried to keep his composure, “Wow, very blunt and straight forward, never expected less from you, Tsukki.” He grinned.

“Oh, fuck you.” (Y/N) laughed as Kei deadpanned, not fond of how his friend called him by his childish nickname. “Statement: retracted.” He crossed his arms and tilted his head.

“Wait- no- Kei, I’m sorry!” (Y/N) snorted, amused by Kei’s childish actions, “I’m sorry, you just took me by surprise and I had to get you back! Yes, yes, I’ll date you, sourpuss.”

“Hm, I don’t know if you deserve it anymore.” A smile crept onto Kei’s face no matter how hard he tried to stay nonchalant. (Y/N)’s grin widened, setting the notepad and pencil down.

“Fine, you leave me no choice,” He held his hands up in a mock surrender, “I guess we’ll both just be single for the rest of our lives, forever craving the touch of one another.” He held a hand over his heart, almost tipping the chair over with how far he leaned back.

“God, you’re weird.” Kei feigned disgust at the display in front of him.

The two laughed as they finished whatever they just did, the afternoon sun casting a shadow into the dimly lit room.

(Y/N) got up from his spot, “So, are we dating?” He asked as he sat beside Kei.

Kei’s heart once again sped up at the closeness of the other, “Uhm, I don’t know,” he didn’t know why he was awkward now, perhaps his brain was occupied with how easily he could lay down and finally cuddle (Y/N) like he’s thought of for the past couple of months, or perhaps it just suddenly got really hot out of no where, “are we?”

(Y/N) pretended to think, putting a finger to his chin as he leaned on Kei, “Sure, why not?”

*********

It has been… awhile lol

Read the rules before following

[2-dsimp]

can u write something for yandere armin? like what if his darling actually liked him back but then ppl are gossiping about him visiting Annie and still having feelings for her? this hurts darling bc she never forgave Anine and maybe her sibling is dead bc of the female titan so she just kinda stops talking to armin???

@laughing-with-god these were catching cobwebs in my drafts but it’s finally here (^◇^;)

————/———-/——————————-/—————-

Cw: Unhinged Armin! Fem! Reader, suicidal mentions, manipulative tendencies, yandere tendencies, obsessive behavior, mutual pinning

————/———-/——————————-/—————-

Is she ignoring me?

Armin questioned.

Watching you longingly from afar underneath the bangs of his long blonde hair, he began to overthink about what went wrong between the two of you. The rumors that kept circulating his mind about how you also had feelings for him. Was driving him insane with all the conflicting emotions in his weak heart.

Doesn’t she feel the same way? But if that’s true then why…?

If the rumors are true then why’re you avoiding him? The day before the both of you were in the library leisurely reading books sitting next to each other as if you were connected by the red strings of faith. The atmosphere was so blissful a lovely distraction from the chaos in a world that seems so hopeless.

But now he’s witnessing you ignoring his existence entirely almost as if he didn’t exist in your heart to being in with. And that made him anxious with insecurities running rampant until it turned into twisted delusions.

Has she found another?

No, that can’t be! What do I do? I can’t let her go. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her—

“Hey did yall hear about what’s happening between Armin and Annie?”

A distant voice snapped him out of his obsessive train of thoughts, and he automatically tuned into the conversation of gossip stemming from a group of scouts.

“Duh everyone knows that those two will hook up eventually, but my heart goes out to that girl who had a crush on him.”

Another voice chimed in with a slight huff of pity going out to you.

“Yeah, hasn’t Armin always had the hots for that Titan girl? I heard that he went to see her last night at the stables”

Armin went rigid at the mere mention that he would choose that abomination you utterly despised over you. Calming himself he couldn’t help but let out a tiny sigh of relief realizing that it was not as bad as he originally thought. Although, he did have an encounter with her, trust me when I say that it was far from that of a friendly front.

Now that he had a clear vision of the situation, he knew exactly what he needed to do to mend the bridge between him and his darling.

Him being all nice to Annie was just a facade to get her guard to the lowest crumbling point. The woman was already running on a half life carrying the guilt of her past warrior self. He pretended to be empathetic towards her, feeding the flames of her innermost desire to end it all by stating that she had suffered long enough by the hands of fate. And that as a former ally he’d assist in making sure she had a nice send off straight to hell.

And eventhough He knew it was wrong of him to enjoy the simpering thought of how jealous you were at the mere inkling idea that he was interested in Annie. He couldn’t help the excitement drumming along in his heart at how that was a sign of your apparent love towards him. A telltale sign of how you wanted him.

He nearly got weak in the knees at the vision of you and him getting together as a loving couple. Especially since he knew that his goal was within reach, all he had to do was set the plan in motion. In few days time you’ll soon see how much he truly loves you, and how much he’d be willing to be your faithful companion.

And what better way to show it, by giving you the chance to get revenge on the traitor you loathed with all your being.

With that in mind Armin quickly headed towards your quarters, his steps becoming upbeat with a small hopeful smile on his face while he daydreamed about you rewarding his efforts with a kiss.

[ataliagold]

and the moonlight baby shows you what's real

Title from Love Like Ghosts by Lord Huron. This is based off my own experiences with sleep paralysis, so yet again I'm projecting onto Steve :)

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: T

W/C: 1099

C/W: Sleep paralysis

Tags: post-vecna, established steddie, steve has sleep paralysis, eddie looks after him, steve needs a hug - he gets one

Summary: In the aftermath of Vecna, Steve's left with a variety of issues, including frequent episodes of sleep paralysis. Luckily, he doesn't have to suffer through them alone.

___

Steve’s eyes snap open. They lock on the figure at the end of his bed looming over it, shadowy and shapeless and huge.

His heart slams in his chest. Trying to suck in a lungful of air he finds he can’t, can barely force his chest to expand, his breath coming in tiny, rapid pants instead. There’s ringing in his ears, strange whispers competing for his attention around the room, and the figure is leaning over the mattress now, getting closer and he’s completely fucking stuck.

Frozen in place, Steve’s eyes dart left to where Eddie should be. He can make him out in the light of the moon pouring through the window, sleeping peacefully, unaware of the state Steve is trapped in.

Eddie knows about this. About the sleep paralysis. It had been plaguing Steve for a while now, but he’d been too embarrassed to say anything until Eddie had witnessed it firsthand one night and been convinced Vecna was somehow back, that he was coming for Steve just as he’d come for Chrissy…and Steve had been forced to explain. That this wasn’t anything supernatural, this was just…another of his many issues.

It was added to the list alongside his head trauma, his insomnia, his deteriorated hearing.

Steve had learnt to recognize it now, to realize when it was happening to him instead of thinking it was some strange nightmare every time, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still terrifying as hell in the moment.

And Eddie had helped him through several episodes of this by now, but he can’t help if Steve’s unable to wake him up and he can’t move…

His heart rate climbs rapidly. The shadow figure still looms, growing taller and taller and soon it’ll be touching him.

Suddenly, Steve feels himself being tugged towards the foot of the bed.

Logically, he knows he’s not moving - knows he’s still lying flat on his bed beside Eddie but it fucking feels like he’s being dragged toward that thing and fuck he needs Eddie to wake up…

He tries to make a sound. Tries to say Eddie’s name, tries to yell, anything.

A small whimper manages to claw its way from his throat.

It’s enough.

The mattress dips as Eddie rolls over, as he sits up and blinks down at Steve.

And Steve’s stuck in some dark place between asleep and awake, but he’s sure Eddie’s real, would know his boyfriend even if he were blind and deaf.

Realization crosses Eddie’s face, and he flicks on the bedside lamp.

“Stevie, sweetheart, you’re ok,” Eddie murmurs, shuffling closer to him but not touching yet. “This is sleep paralysis, whatever you’re seeing isn’t real. There’s nothing here but you and me, ok?”

But the shadow’s still there.

Steve’s told Eddie about the dark figure that haunts these episodes before, so Eddie knows what Steve’s scared of, but he still wants to tell him, tries to, only succeeding in making a small gurgling noise in the back of his throat.

“I’m here, Stevie. It’s…three twenty-three am. You’re in our bedroom, and this will pass in a few minutes, ok? Can you try move a finger?”

This was a tactic Dustin had suggested, once word of Steve’s…nighttime issues had spread. The kid had taken all sorts of books about sleep disorders out from the library, had researched until he’d found something actually useful. If Steve could force even a finger to move, then he’d eventually manage to move his hand, his arm, and at that point he could rip himself out of paralysis.

Steve focuses all his energy on the pinky of his left hand. His eyes shoot to the end of the bed again, where the shadow figure is bending down, where it’s about to fucking crawl onto the mattress…

“Hey, no, focus on me sweetheart,” Eddie slowly reaches for his hand, doesn’t squeeze it or move it, just lays it over Steve’s. Moonlight glows across his pale skin, and even in distress Steve thinks he’s fucking beautiful. “I promise it’s not real. Try and move your hand, yeah?”

Steve tries again. Manages a tiny twitch in his pinky.

Eddie grins. “There you go, try again.”

He does, curling the pinky towards his palm and back again.

“Now try and squeeze my hand,” Eddie encourages.

With his heart still pounding, Steve forces his frozen fingers to cooperate, clenching down on Eddie’s hand clumsily.

The shadow figure retreats across the bedroom, out the door. The ringing in his ears fades, and Steve manages to swallow, to take a gasping breath.

“You’re ok, I’ve got you, I’m here,” Eddie soothes him, reaching for him as Steve starts to move, as he curls inwards towards him, still trembling.

“Sorry,” Steve whines into his chest, as Eddie cradles him close.

“Shhhh, just breathe,” Eddie whispers, running a hand slowly up and down Steve’s back.

And Steve’s shaking even as his heart rate starts to slow, as he slumps into Eddie’s hold, as the adrenaline floods out of his system and leaves him strung-out and exhausted.

“Sorry I woke you,” Steve repeats, his voice hitching and stuttering, “I couldn’t…I didn’t know what to -”

“Hey,” Eddie interrupts, kissing the top of his head, “I’ve told you before, I want you to wake me up. Every time. I don’t want you going through that alone, ok?”

Steve nods slightly, hair brushing across Eddie’s collarbone with the movement.

“Did you see it again? The…shadow guy?” Eddie asks.

Steve nods again. “He was about to climb onto the bed.”

Eddie snorts, pulls Steve somehow closer to him. “Bit rude of him, fucker should probably ask before joining us in bed.”

Steve manages a tiny chuckle despite himself, rests his hand at Eddie’s waist, feels himself slowly settling against the comforting warmth of his boyfriend.

“Want me to read a bit while you go back to sleep?”

Steve nods, avoiding Eddie’s eye, still shy, still a stranger to accepting the help Eddie so readily offers him.

But Eddie only kisses him briefly, reaches for his book on the bedside table, and scans the page for where he’d left off.

Steve has no idea what the book is even about, but it doesn’t matter. It’s Eddie’s voice, calm and soothing and familiar washing over him that helps his breathing slow, that relaxes him back into a state where he can even consider going back to sleep again.

He lets his eyes droop. Feels the vibration of Eddie’s chest against his cheek, sinks further into the blankets, and allows sleep to take him again.

Eddie’s got him, after all.

___

[letsatomicbanana]

Have any headcanons about my boy Ink sans??

Oh boy, i sure do!

It's yapping time!!! but it's bellow the 'read more'

(spoilers: It's long as hell)

-First of all, Ink can not stand normal texturized clothing and textures (like cotton, fur, silk etc...) which is the reason to why their clothes are always created by him and is used a more paint-like 'esque' to it. (which is canon).

- Case in point, he suffers from 'unable to have normal fashion tastes' disease. He's the type of motherfucker to wear baggy pants under a dress, sandles with socks on, a crop top over a long sleeved shirt etc... They does not care nor follows society's fashion sense/brands, he only gives a damn if the clothes are comfortable or not lmao.

- Genderqueer, no explanation for that one (c'mon, just look at them) also AroAce but that's already canon.

- He definetly has a whole collection of autographs of random sanses that he managed to get. (The obvious one is fell sans but he prob forgot to who the other's belongs to).

- Besides from being able to speak french, they can also speak fluent mandarin and japanese!

- Has a whole collection of random objects he found while travelling AU's. It's not anything particulary useful or collectible (like toys etc..) more so 'things he found interesting' (like that one chesse from the ruins)

- Since he has a canon hyperfixation on Underfell, i like to image that he defends the AU with his whole tiny body, empty mind and non-existent soul (he can't STAND uf slander, it makes his blood boil lmao). Also, they treats fell sans like you would treat your favourite fictional babygirl male character as.

- Definetly engaged in the consumption of illicit drugs at some point in his life, you cannot tell me that this curious asshole never had any interest in drugs, even if it's just recreational consumption. Very open to any options, but they has a thing for marijuana, alcohol, and nicotine (it makes him ADHD go bonkers).

- Now that i've mentioned it. He has ADHD-C (combined type), probably got diagnosed because he saw a random 'Does your child have ADHD' pamphlets hanging around in the wall of some random AU they visited, which made him to be deeply curious (he thought they didn't had it) and eventually diagnosed with it. Note! He's currently unmedicated (i think he would have a problematic history with medications, if i'm going to be honest). (him having adhd is kindaaaa canon??? semi-canon at least)

- Also has undiagnosed Autism and ASPD (sociopathy) in which he has no idea that he has lmao (i made a whole post about this too). Note but i'm killing anyone who says that Ink is evil due to being 'sociopatic'.

- Doesn't engaje in social gatherings of any kind unless extremly necessary, he's energetic but an introvert at heart (this is canon btw).

- Has a better conection to inanimate objects than people, oh! and he's also Objectum!

- They're an ISTP! Which stands for 'Introvert', 'Observant', 'Thinking' and 'Prospective'.

- A lot of times deeply wonders to his apparent lack of family and AU, he won't admit but he's feels a sense of envy for other sanses that have brothers. They also often wanders through the vast multiverse looking for his original family/AU, but he can never find it :(

- Extremly sensitivite to any topics of discussion/conversation that relates to his soullessness, he also cannot stand being called 'emotionless' or a 'tragedy' because of his condition. Has a tendency in de'humanizing' himself over his lack of soul.

- Since he has a very hard time understanding social interaction, they often uses their interest in art as a way to form attachments with people, like painting them outfits or portraits (insert the 'Im bad at people, but i am good at tech' entrapta quote). Art is his special interest!

- He's a very dedicated brony and their favourite pony is Derpy Hooves/ Ditzy Doo!! She's literally him, for real! If he was part of the fandom at it's peak popularity in 2012-2014, they would prob be those famous fandom artist/musicians!

- Reast in piece Ink sans you would've loved Dungeons and Dragons. (/ref)

- Besides from their obvious interest in drawing/painting, he also has a deep interest in music! He canonically can play the flute but he also enjoys playing the trumpet, the piccolo and the clarinet!

- They're generally extremly under-responsive or otherwise sensory seeking to any kind of sensory stimuli. He's also a very oral artistic and often chew/bites on stuff for stimulation. Can often fall into Nonsuicidal self-injury style of stimming such as picking or pulling,when overwhelmed/underwhelmed.

- Another headcanon that he has PICA, where he often eats/craves for things that are not food, like crayons (canon).

[puzzled-pegasus]

Christina Posabule thoughts (tiny little female christ is eating my brain today/pos)

This is mostly me working out some parallels between her and Orel's families but there's some cute hcs for her and Orel in here too :3

Her mom Poppit is influential to her as a parallel to the way that Clay affects Orel. Poppit is selfish, drunk, bitter, and very two-faced parent just like Clay is, who just like him, confidently gives awful advice and takes advantage of Christina's trusting nature.

Art is less involved with Christina and loses interest in conversation with her as soon as anything remotely associated with femininity comes up and he's just like ew gross go talk to your mom. the most positive attention he gives her is about her appearance and how cute or pretty she looks. He likes to constantly condescendingly tell her that any given thing she's interested or asking advice about in the moment is for boys or "a little girl like you doesn't need to worry about that :)" and it drives Christina nuts so she goes and talks to her mom anyway

Similarly to Clay and Orel, Poppit decided to take Christina on a picnic in the woods and they get lost, and Christina gets permanently injured due to her mother's carelessness, though I haven't yet figured out how. (Man, I just realized that if that happened after the events of Nature and Orel found out, he would probably be out for Poppit's BLOOD on behalf of his puppy crush sweetheart)

Idk whose post I read but I'll add the credit in later, but I read earlier the idea that as a parallel to Orel's masochism episode Christina has an arc where she turns sadist and I thought that was fuckin hilarious so yeah I need that to be a thing. I wonder what would set that off though. Maybe instead of taking to heart the idea that suffering is good for her, she might be like "wait friends I don't want you to go to hell for being happy" and beats them up...or smth i dont know. And also as parallel to Orel's dreams of God in that episode she could be like. Beating the shiz out of Satan. Lol. anyway,

I have this feeling that she and Orel have like the sappiest pet names for each other but like you cant even be mad about it cause they're so sincere lol. like they meet up for a date and Orel's casually like "there's my bright little daisy" and Christina is like "oh hello my sweet pudding pie" and then they hold hands and walk to the park or whatever tf

This is a smaller hc but if you remember that moment before the Puppingtons found out the Posabules were Catholic when Clay noticed Orel making 😍 eyes at Christina and he asked Orel if he thinks she was cute,,, I think it would be nice if Poppit and Christina were doing the same thing at that moment like Poppit was like "oh he's a doll isn't he?" And Christina's like "yes, ma'am, and so polite too!" and Poppit says something cheeky about how Christina better not start bringing boys around Art because he'll shoot them or whatever (you know like how dads threaten their daughters' boyfriends for no reason because of weird possession issues) and then they giggle together

Since Orel's been shot Christina worries over him a lot and especially in the first few months of their relationship she kept asking him how much it hurt and and even into adulthood she checks with him every day to make sure he's not exerting himself too much

Christina had a cat briefly and her parents killed it because they thought it was bad luck or smth

instead of "meet me in my study" Poppit's the more involved parent when it comes to discipline so she's just like "go see your father" cus he's the one with the belt

[internetmisfitsworld]

So far from what I've seen, the reboot doesn't showed or mentioned any implications that Makarov and Yuri were former friends or served together in the army. Hell by the looks of it, Yuri looks much older than Mak.

So I'm guessing in this new timeline, Activision probably won't go with that route anymore.

I noticed that not many people saw how much Yuri truly meant to Makarov. I'll go as far to say that Yuri was the LAST and ONLY shreds of humanity that's left in Makarov. Just a tiny piece.

Now why would I say that Yuri was his last shreds of humanity? I mean surely it's not possible right? After all, this is the same man who shot at him, almost blew him to pieces and literally KILLED him at the end.

Well, here's a few hints that I noticed.

(Long essay here. Because why not.)

(I'm feeling a bit emo over the fact that I'm gonna miss these two bastards dynamics.)

1. 1996 and 2011 flashback

He seemed so happy and content with Yuri during the flashback scene. His little smile when talking about the future of Ultranationalist to him. It seemed so genuine I almost forgot this man is a terrorist lol.

Also, it's kinda wholesome to know that these two were always joined at the hip. First, Pripyat then the whole nuking the US army. Must've been one hell of a duo back then to be picked as second in commands of Zakhaev. Well, either that or Zakhaev didn't have the heart to separate them 🤣 (they both shared one braincell).

Zakhaev: No. Yuri cannot go with you for this mission, Vladimir. He must stay here.

Makarov:

Yuri:

Zakhaev:

Makarov: ☹️

Yuri: ☹️

Zakhaev: 😑

Zakhaev: FINE. BOTH OF YOU GO!

2. No Russian

I wonder why didn't Mak killed Yuri sooner when he found out that Yuri was snitching on him to the FSB. Unless he found out about it on his way to the airport, then there was no reason to kill him at the airport.

I mean, why? Why did it just moments away from committing "the most world changing" act? He could've just killed him at the safehouse? There must've been someone guarding the safehouse, so if he wanted to pull the whole "let him suffer till his last moment" to Yuri, the safest way to do that was at the safehouse. At least his guards will shoot him if he so much as stand on his feet.

It makes me wonder if he was having hesitation? It's this complex feelings of the fact that he doesn't necessarily wants Yuri dead but he also doesn't really care if he lives either. He can't have him in his circle anymore due to his betrayal but it will set a bad example to his men if he lets Yuri live.

But he have to kill him in front of his men, so that they know he's not to be fucked with and he's not going soft. He can't afford any flaws. Especially now that he's the leader.

So the plan was to shoot Yuri in the abdomen area, under the pretense of "let him enjoy his last moment", and then count on him having the strength to crawl his way out of there.

Mind you, there's even an unused voiceline of Mak stopping the other from finishing Yuri off.

"No. Let him enjoy these last moments."

Which is bullshit, not to mention how uncharacteristically careless of him to pull this lol.

Because first of all, he and Yuri had fought side by side before, so he must've known just how far and how much Yuri is willing to push his strength and haul ass. He must've known Yuri's stubborn ass will NOT just lay there dying. He KNOWS Yuri would drag his ass up that elevator, hell even the fucking stairs if he have to, just to survive.

Like Mak, my dude, I know the chance of him catching up with you and shooting your ass was low due to him suffering from blood loss and everything, but still, my man, the risk is THERE.

That is dangerously stupid Mak agagaggaa you damn softie idiot.

But yeah I guess shooting up the airport was not the only successful mission that day. I'm certain he must've, unintentionally and discreetly, let out sigh of relief when he heard Yuri survived.

But also another incoming headache. Because he damn sure knows Yuri's gonna go after him using all the information that he knows about him.

3. Blood Brothers

Prior to this mission, we seen plenty times where Yuri gave intels about Makarov to Price and Soap. Some of those intels even sound... too personal. The kind of intels where you need to know him personally to be able to know that much. And sure enough Soap caught on to that during the Blood Brothers briefing;

Soap: Which vehicle will he be in?

Yuri: They constantly rotate for security. We won't know until he steps out.

Soap: You seem to know a lot about Makarov.

And the silence that followed after that lmao. I'm was dying to know the look on Soap and Yuri's face. I'm guessing Soap was hella suspicious and Yuri was pretending not to exist.

Also, I can imagined Yuri's guilt for not revealing the whole truth of who he was and his relations with Makarov.

Makarov had many "friends", no doubt due to his cold, no-nonsense yet charismatic charm. However, Yuri proved to be one of the only people who can adapt to his ways and doesn't cowered, like other people, from his steely mismatched eyes.

An equal. He was his closest friend. His only, truest friend, to be exact. Blood brothers. Brothers whom once bled together, not cause each other to bleed. Brothers whom once fought side by side, not against each other. Brothers whom once saved each other's lives countless times. Brothers whom suffer together, laugh together. Aight I'm getting emo here I'll stop.

Alright back on the topic. So, he must've known that Price, Yuri, and Soap were gonna assassinate him. He probably had the tower opposite the hotel planted with bombs as security measure but when he looked right at them (as Soap mentioned), his suspicion was confirmed.

It amazed me he chose this method instead of having his men snipe them. Not to mentioned he spoiled the surprise too. The tower that Soap and Yuri was in had huge ass open walls, which easily allows them to jump in time. Yeah they could still die from the high jumps but the survival chance was still there. The only reason Soap died was because of his previous unheal stab wound reopening again.

This man seems to really have a problem to kill his former friend didn't he? Like, how did you failed to kill him TWICE 😭✋️ ??

I'm sure his men at that point was sick of it.

Inner Circle dude: Sir, I think we should just snipe them from a distance. They won't see it coming.

Makarov: No, we're gonna use the bomb. But detonate it after I dramatically announce myself.

Inner Circle dude: But sir, that means they will have the time to jump off and survives?

Makarov: JUST DO AS I SAY.

Inner Circle dude:

He really kept on giving Yuri the chance to live. Even more funny, he still referred Yuri as "my friend" (albeit mockingly so but still).

4. Dust to Dust

Oh this mission breaks my heart in so many ways and reasons. Yuri dying, Price being alone.

But most of all, this moment right here.

This and Pripyat, was one of the two moments where he looks most human. It is a rather... oddly unique sight, seeing the big bad Vladimir Makarov, the monster, the terrorist who coldly slaughtered an airport filled with people,

.....staring so painfully disoriented and conflicted at his dead former friend that he just killed.

No doubt, even before he shot that gun, he's AWARE it was Yuri shooting at him. Because, who else. It's only him and Price. But of course, out of instinct, he reacts anyway.

And after all that adrenaline fades away, only then he truly let it sink in that the person he just shot three times, was Yuri. And fuck does it hurts him alot more than that pain in his stomach.

Mind you, at this point Price has already risen up, on his knees, ready to tackle him, and he STILL didn't turn around. Seconds must've felt like eternity for him. Man was lost in his head.

That's how long this man stares at Yuri's dead body. That's how much Yuri's death affects him to the point he loses his focus on his surrounding. It's like in those few seconds, he was having a hard time taking in the fact that;

a) he just killed his only friend.

b) he really is alone now. he just killed the only person who knows him truly, well before he turn into the monster that he is now.

He snapped out of it at the last minute, and even then he seems hesitant. Not because he was hesitated to kill Price but he was hesitated to live.

He knows he's screwed the moment he turns around. He realized just how much he fucked up for losing his focus. It's like at that point he just gave up on fighting. Yeah I know he still fights back if we were not quick enough to continously strangle him but still he doesn't seem to try hard enough.

For the first time in a long time, he was exhausted. Yuri's death drained him of all the fight he had left in him.

Yuri shooting at Makarov is not the only thing that saves Price. Yeah, it helps distract + weakening Makarov.

But I promise you, if Yuri didn't have any meaningful friendship with Mak and was just another random soldier defected from the Ultranationalist, Price would've been dead. Yeah change my mind.

Look at how fast Makarov's reaction time when Yuri shot at him. Mind you, this man just seconds ago was barely able to STAND UP, holding his stomach in pain, clearly suffered from major injuries in the abdominal areas.

The second that bullet hits his right shoulder, he slumped down for like 1 second, lift that gun up, take his aim, and fired that shit up. So pretty much he won't have a problem to immediately turn around and shoot Price as well.

But since said problem was Yuri, and so, Price got lucky.

And now it seems in the reboot, chances are, we will never get to this again.

(Also, I'm aware that there are people who ships them romantically. Which is perfectly fine. I personally sees them as close friends, like brothers. But hey, even I enjoyed Makayuri contents sometimes. So just letting you know that and I hope people can respect that.)

[hapan-in-exile]

Volume 1 - Bonus Post: I know you think about me in the shower [M]

Another installment in this ongoing serialized fanfic

A/N: this is a bonus post from Mando's POV

This episode takes place directly after the events of Volume 1: Post 3: Thrilling Tales of Emergency Medicine.

Genre: Mandalorian x Fem! Reader

Rating: Explicit - smut, language, 18+ MINORS DNI *NSFW*

_____________________________________

Reader prompt from @hotnmad:

“I didn’t see anything! But your thoughts are…very loud.” “How do you—right," he nods. "No helmet in the fresher.” EEEEEEKKKKKK I WANNAAAAA KNOWWWW I WANT THAT FLASHBACK. PLEASE. LET ME SEE WHAT HE THINKS ABOUT IN THE FRESHER IM BEGGING 😭😭😭

Hod Ha'ran, have mercy, pleaded the Mandalorian. I’m in trouble.

He desperately rubbed at his temples like the kinetic energy might stir something loose in his brain. I’m in so much fucking trouble. 

He’d made it through four months of her living onboard without making a fool of himself. That was, in large part, because he’d decided speaking with her was too risky. It’d only be a matter of time before he blurted out some humiliating observation about how flexible she was while watching her morning stretches. The horror of hearing himself say, 'You can really get that leg up there,' was enough to keep him quiet.

He couldn’t say something stupid if he kept his mouth shut. 

Now, he could not for the life of him remember exactly what, if anything, he had said to her under the haze of Bacta and painkillers.

Which is why he usually grit his teeth and suffered through the pain without meds. Because that shit dissolved every ounce of self-control he possessed. Whatever impulse he felt, he chased. Whatever he wanted, he took.

And he wanted her. 

He was pretty sure that he'd grabbed her.

The sedatives in the Bacta meant his blood pressure was probably too thin to get a hard-on, but he couldn’t be sure.

What he did remember was the feeling of her breasts pressed against his chest. Hell, he’d squeezed her so tightly that one of her nipples had actually popped out over the top of her shirt. That would be hard to forget. 

He also remembered her arms wrapped around him. The way she fit perfectly tucked against him. She hadn’t pulled away. 

But he shouldn’t read anything into that. She was being nice because that was her nature. It’s the same comfort she would extend to anyone who almost died in her arms. He’d awoken with one of her pillows propped under his neck and a wool blanket wrapped around him. A tender kindness for someone who had thanked her for saving his life by grabbing at her like some lecherous drunk.

She’s kind to everyone, he reminded himself. She has this immeasurable patience that he couldn’t fathom.

A vision of wet cloth clinging to the generous curves of her breasts teased at him. They were ample, probably more than a handful.

Fucking farrik, you gotta stop thinking about her tits!

Thulani was sweet, but she wasn’t innocent. He liked that about her, too.

She had this self-awareness about the lushness of her body. She knew it influenced the way people perceived her and how they treated her. The Mandalorian had some inkling of what that must be like—he was a walking fetish for a lot of people, after all—so he found it pretty impressive when she used her sexuality to intimidate someone.   

She tried it on him sometimes.

Thank the gods, she couldn’t see his reaction from under the helmet. Though he did feel guilty about her confusion whenever she couldn’t get a read on his response to her flirting.

Not that he’d try to stop her. Every hand she placed on his arm, every coy smile she flashed him, every time she walked around in her tiny shorts that were basically underwear—he enjoyed safely from beneath his view plate.

She liked to flirt with everyone. With the station agent, the merchant selling dumplings, standing in line at the bar. She was just like that. Like starlight. Everywhere she turned to cast her gaze, brightened. She invited anyone and everyone to share in its warmth.

And damnit, she’d been so warm. Her round ass braced against his thigh, the thick curve of her hips pressed into his stomach. Her tits.

The Mandalorian thought back to the first time he'd seen her, crossing each other on the staircase in the lobby of Ingtar's casino. She was climbing them confidently in her ridiculously tall heels. Lifting her face to the ceiling, her body arched, breasts thrust upward like an offering to the gods.

He would probably die, and his last thoughts would be about her tits. They were full and soft but also firm. She could probably smother him between her perfect breasts, and he would die happy. 

Shit, his cock was so hard it ached. He lightly palmed it through the thick canvas of his flight suit. But he was too full, in urgent need of release. There was nothing else for it.

The Mandalorian tossed the pillow and blanket back onto her bedroll and limped toward the fresher. The stitches stung, yet the sharp pain was not enough to dull his desire. He could lock himself inside the holding cell and claim he wanted privacy, except that she would most likely hear and guess what he was doing in there. The noise from the running water and the air vent would obscure the sound of his grunts and heavy breathing.

It felt shameful to jerk off in the shower while she sat about a foot directly above him. She was a woman under his protection, and he’d already crossed some inviolable boundaries by forcing her into his lap. Last time he needed the release, he'd left the ship and rented a room in town...? 

We’re already strapped for cash.

Right. He’d just have to take care of this quickly and do penance for it later. 

By the time he stripped naked and closed himself inside the fresher, his body was trembling. His blood roared in his ears. Had he ever felt this hard before? Was it some side effect of the Bacta? Or was it simply a measure of how much he wanted her?

He reached between his legs to grip the length of his cock and squeezed. 

"Um, Mando—" She shouted from the other side of the stall door. "I know this is super intrusive, but I need to remind you that you can't get your stitches wet. You should rub—wash! Wash yourself with a cloth."

He froze. His hand had been sweeping up and down the expanse of his shaft. There was no way he could respond. His breath was already harsh and uneven.

“There’s a sponge in my shower caddy you can use if you need to…” she offered. “I’m…I’m gonna go back up to the cockpit. We’ll just—ah, wait for you up there.”

Fuck. He stood there for a moment with the head of his cock under his thumb. 

Her sponge? He saw it tucked into the container that hung from the shower head. A real, organic sponge. Large and plush. Like her tits. Looking at it made him laugh. Not even running for her life could curb this woman’s taste for luxury. 

She luxuriated in everything. And he liked that, too. She savored things. 

He remembered growing half a stalk just hearing her moan while she stuffed her mouth full of custard buns.

Her mouth, thought the Mandalorian as his dick throbbed in his hand.

He thought a lot about her mouth, too. 

Right. Let’s be done with this.

He grabbed the sponge. It was still slick with her soap. Something that smelt like flowers and crisp citrus. He wrapped it around his cock and imagined the hot, sticky sheath of her cunt as he entered her.

No—nnngh, he groaned.

Her tits. Instead, he imagined her kneeling between his thighs and thrusting himself between her breasts as she squeezed them together, sliding them up and down his swollen shaft—anngh, unngh. 

And her mouth. She would tuck her chin down to slide those full lips over the head of his cock, lapping at the beads of come she drew from him.

Mmmf—his hand stroked the full length of his erection, no longer languid pulls now, but quickly.  

His chest heaved with each panting breath.

Haa! He jerked faster. Haa! Faster, faster. Haa, aah! He was so close.

He groaned again as the pace of his frantic rhythm increased.

Knowing Thuli, she would probably look him directly in the eyes the whole time she had his cock in her mouth—nnngh!

He pumped relentlessly until, finally, he cried out. He shuddered as each spasm tensed every muscle in his body, his come spurting again and again.

Unngh! Haa, aah, ahh!

All over her sponge. 

Fuck!

****************************

Back to Volume 1 - All posts

[heartinajarofpickles]

Dinner Is Not Over

Part 7

Boy, you're hindering apart, and I wanna multiply

—“Sure sir” said Muriel with a happy voice that accompanied a happier face Crowley was at a loss of words, he wanted, no, needed Muriel to give him an exit, the key to end his suffering once and for all, of course he couldn't pronounce the right words, whatever he said would be wrong, asking for it straight away would be suspicious, Muriel was naive not stupid, they would put two and two together and the last chance the demon had at resting would be gone, a lie could probably come in hand, but would Muriel believe it? He could use the same excuse that they gave Aziraphale so many years ago, there was no reason for Muriel to not believe on him, so she settled for that.

—"you are awfully quiet mister Crowley" said Muriel, breaking the long silence

—"yes I'm sorry kid, it's just, hell has been really pressuring me into becoming the new duke there, but I really don't want to go, I have my life here, and I really like it"

—"so? Just don't go"

—"If it only was that easy, I helped Beelzebub by suggesting the idea that both they and Gabriel should run away to Alpha Centauri, hell saw it as if I had done good, and truly a demon can get into a lot of trouble for doing good, the only way hell could possibly forgive me would be by becoming duke, but even then I don't think they'll completely forget about it, besides I really like it here, it's so cramped downstairs"

—"and in which way could I help you, do you need support?"

—"this happened before, although not exactly like this, a long time ago hell came after me for saving a girl's life, I got what I deserved, and then they returned me back here if I’m honest to you, I was afraid I still am and probably still be for years to come, the only thing helping me was knowing that i-"

—"I’m not giving you holy water" Muriel shouted interrupting Crowley

—"how did you- I already explained it, please" said the demon falling to his knees, begging once more for the unattainable mercy

—"you could hurt yourself" Muriel didn't have any argument, but they knew that what Crowley was doing, or planning to, was wrong, however if hell really was after him, giving her a weapon to protect herself didn't seem out of place, if they caught him then he would suffer more

—"I won't be able to do that if hell gets a hold of me first right? If Aziraphale was here would help me, don't you want to help me"

—"yes I know he would but-" a little bell rang stopping Muriel from finishing his argument “Oh I’m sorry, but I really have to attend that, I’ll be with you in a second okay, make yourself comfortable” with every word the voice drifted more and more away, pleased with a new person looking to buy a book.

Crowley was still looking in awe to all the changes, pacing himself in the new version of his old place, until they found a chair that looked comfortable enough and decided to lay there for a while, thinking and awaiting Muriel's return, sometime passed, and the sun started moving, revealing a new hidden addition, instead of the old wood floors there was now perforated metal floor on the second level, however instead of the usual little circular holes there were tiny little stars that reflected all over the bookshop once the sun was in the right position, painting a big galaxy, Crowley was amused by this, the chair had proof to be comfortable enough, and with a simple miracle the lights had dimmed out, this wasn't bad, not bad at all, this was the first time on the past days that the demon hadn't felt badly, a few moments later Muriel returned happier than how they left.

—"did you sell it?" said Crowley

—"I did!!!, in fact I sold 3 of them" squeaked Muriel happily

—"amazing job" Crowley replied proudly

— "big fan of the stars by the way"

—"oh well of course you liked them, they were inspired by you"

—"were they?"

—"yeah, again I really learned a lot of stuff from those letters that Aziraphale wrote to his friend"

—"what friend?" it was intended to come out as curious, but the words were lingered with a jealous tone

—"diary, you should take a look" said Muriel while looking for them, three volumes stacked one on top of each other, "these are the first ones, you might like them, after all, every time you appear something exciting happens"

Crowley miracled a little table so that the books wouldn't stand on the floor and quickly prepared himself to read whatever this proved to be.

There it was, another reminder of his angel, this probably being the last one, so either for torture or for closure Crowley make himself comfortable again and began reading the memoir of his one true love, with stars surrounding him, somehow getting back the only things he ever loved, and we're taken away from him, in a new changed way.

The book contained every event worth telling in Aziraphale’s life, meaning every time he had reunited with Crowley in the last 6000 years, and a mismatched bundle of his other accomplishments, like a guide on how he bought the library, a very proudly passage expressing how he passed his driving test, and a list of pros and cons of owning a firearm.

All these events were narrated in a way that made Crowley doubt himself, the core of the facts remain the same, but the details changed drastically, the demon was now able to see through the angel eyes, small details that for him did not mean anything were whole pages in there, cruelty and misfortune bloomed into acts of hope and resilience as Azi wrote, it was truly breathtaking to read the way in which the angel thought, this made Crowley miss him in an inhuman way.

Hanging onto those pages as if they were the angel itself, the desperate way in which he was holding an insignificant piece of paper demonstrated that he wanted to touch something else, that he was starved from it, he needed it, he was careful with it of course, it was a strong cautious grip, he kept holding them for a while, with the hope that maybe if he held them hard enough those texts would morph into the being that wrote them, he spent there several minutes, or maybe hours, he didn't care, and as he spent more and more time holding them she noticed that his scent was still there, very faint and almost odorless but still there, he could have stay there for weeks hugging this new treasure and smelling the angels barely noticeable scent until something called his attention, next to the other two books a small crystal bottle filled with a clear liquid seemed to appear out of nowhere.

[miyuhpapayuh]

20. It's about to be a girl fight.

1996

Stepping out of the shower, Stevie tightens her pink cotton towel around her frame and heads across the hall, rummaging through her side of the closet in Rod's room.

Growing completely attached at the hip, Stevie temporarily packed up most of her stuff and moved in, which had Rod over the moon with excitement.

"Hey," coming in the room with a plate of waffles with strawberries plopped on top and extra drizzles of syrup, he sits it on his desk. "I made you breakfast."

She turns around and smiles, welcoming the million kisses that he urgently presses to her lips. 

"Thanks, baby."

"You're more than welcome." He releases her, letting her go back to picking out her clothes for the day.

"When do you go back to work?," he asks, sitting on the edge of his bed, tugging on his bottom lip as she comes out of her towel to lotion up.

"Tomorrow. I called Claire and she's so excited that I'm finally coming back. Rena and Alana must be driving her crazy." Rod chuckles, tearing his eyes away from her and staring towards the window, watching the rain slack up.

"You miss their crazy asses, huh?"

"I really do. I miss Tyler, too. I haven't seen her, since Thursday."

"Why don't you go and see her? I'm sure she'd love that." He turns back to her, watching her button up the mustard colored button down and fasten the button on her high-waisted jeans.

"I could do that. I just don't know how busy she'll be with Tasha and everything. I guess I'll call her." She closes the closet door and heads towards her plate, popping a strawberry into her mouth as Rod pulls her onto his lap.

"You look good," he kisses her neck, causing the giddy smile to make its way onto her lips.

"I do, huh?"

"Mmhm. Real good." Repeating the action, she scrunches up and giggles, pushing him away. In the midst, he gets a whiff of her sweet scent.

"Whatchu got on? You smell like sugar," he obnoxiously sniffs her, causing her to suck her teeth.

"Cut it out! It's vanilla body butter. You like it?"

"Hell yeah, you smell good than a muthafucka." He grins up at her, earning an eye roll in return.

"Such a way with words."

After she finishes her breakfast, they're off to their classes.

Pulling her bag out of his backseat, she groans and steps out onto the pavement. Rod rounds the car and calmly hovers over her tiny frame.

"You sure you're gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just have the most boring classes. Creative writing is my last class, so I'll just suffer until then." She pouts.

"Tuck that lip in, girl. It'll be over, before you know it."

"You promise?"

"I promise." He holds his pinky up, linking his with hers, before kissing her knuckles.

"When's your last class?" He asks, leading them into the stuffy building.

"One-fifteen. What about you?"

"One," he chuckles, "funny how that plays out, but I'll be waiting for you, like always."

"You're the sweetest." She pinches his cheek.

"For you? Anything."

Reluctantly heading in opposite directions, Stevie heads into her earth science class, already dreading the hour and a half.

Finding a seat near the back, she plops down and sighs, feeling a pair of eyes burn a hole in the side of her face. 

Raising an eyebrow, she looks in their direction. "Can I help you?"

The blonde points to the faded purple bruise underneath her eye and very bluntly asks, "what happened to your face?"

"You don't just ask people questions, like that."

"Was it your boyfriend? I was in an abusive relationship, too—" Stevie's eyes widen as she rushes to cut the girl off.

"Girl, relax. My boyfriend has never put his hands on me. I'm sorry that somebody did that to you, but that's not the case on my side."

"Well, are you okay?"

"Yes.”

The girl nods, tearing her eyes away from Stevie.

"I didn't mean to pry. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I got it. I'm fine, thanks."

Truthfully, it'd been a little under a year since the whole ordeal had went down and she still found herself on edge about it, understandably.

Rod had to basically stronghold her into staying home, because she wasn't ready and she knew it, but she was stubborn and didn't want to be confined. But, after her last nightmare, he'd put his foot down.

Staying inside became normal to her, after a while. She'd do her homework through email and her mama's fax machine, or through Rod.

She'd occasionally take a walk around the block if she needed to get away, even drive here and there. Rod became her personal chef in no time, cooking all her favorites and contributing to her noticeable weight gain.

Her scars had healed up, nicely, but they were still faintly visible. She'd gotten tired of covering them up with makeup, after she had a terrible break out on. Wearing a bare face wasn't an issue, but the stares did get very annoying.

People always glaring at her a little too long. Even giving Roderick ugly stares, with their own assumptions as to why her face and arm looked the way it did.

"It's nice to have you back, Miss Johnson."

"Thanks. It's nice to be back.”

Taking a good semester off and roughly six months out from work, due to random migraines and dizzy spells, her mood also decided to plummet a little.

Blinking the time away, she's finally free to roam the campus for the next thirty minutes, bumping into Tyler on the way, almost jumping into her arms.

"God, have I missed you." Tyler embraces her in the same fashion, before they find a place to talk, deciding on the library.

"I missed you, too. How is everything?"

"Everything is... everything, honestly. I'm finally getting back in the swing of things. I go back to work, tomorrow."

"That's good! I'm glad you're finally out of that house!"

"Me too, honestly. I didn't mind being taken care of, though." Stevie admits, making Tyler laugh.

"Girl, I'm officially jealous. Oh, my cousins told me to tell you hello."

"How're they doing?"

"They're good!, Tia and I have been taking turns watching out for Tasha, helping her get back on her feet, taking her to therapy, making sure she eats even if she doesn't really have an appetite.... it's a lot, but I'm glad she's home."

"Does the appetite thing have a negative effect on her?" Stevie asks.

"Yeah, doc said something about a stitch? I don't know." Tyler shrugs, before glancing at Stevie's face.

"Your face looks so much better, babe."

"Does it, really? Cause bitches keep staring at me, like I need to be the poster child for a domestic violence campaign!"

"Someone asked if Rod hit you?!"

"Someone— try every-fucking-body, girl. I've only been here for an hour and some change and I'm ready to crawl back into bed."

"Wow. Start telling everybody what really happened," she laughs, "they'll leave you alone, then."

"Nah, these muthafuckas crazy. They'd be askin' for details and shit."

"You're probably right. Hey, what happened to that bitch that was pushin' up on ya boy?"

"I honestly don't know, now that you mention it. I haven't seen her, since I've been back."

"Hm. Interesting."

"No it ain't. She better stay hidden, too, cause her ass is still on my list."

"You say it's on sight, huh?" Stevie just gives Tyler a look, telling her everything she needs to know.

"Wow... can I watch?"

"You're so annoying, man."

"We both know that. Hey, you and Rod should come over for dinner on Saturday. Tasha wants to see you. My parents are coming, but they promised to be on their best behavior."

"Oh boy.... I'll come for y'all, but I'm keeping my eye on those parents of yours. They get a little outta hand."

"Don't I know it.," Tyler rolls her eyes, "but, great! It'll be around six or so, but I'll call you."

"Alright, sounds good. Well, I gotta get to this next class, but I love you and I'm so glad I ran into you." They both stand up.

"I love you, too." Tyler pulls Stevie into a tight hug. "I'll see you, Saturday."

Stevie nods, before heading back in the opposite direction.

Sitting for the second time, today, she groans and stares straight up at the clock, watching the little hand tick around and abruptly stop, causing her to curse underneath her breath.

"Son of a bitch."

"Language, Miss johnson." Her professor snaps.

"My bad."

"You've been out for quite some time. I'm proud of you for keeping yourself caught up on everything." Stevie smiles.

"Well, I take pride in staying on top of everything."

"I'm sure you do," a girl near the back of the room mumbles. Stevie looks behind her and rolls her eyes, not even caring to scope the girl out.

"Anyways," Stevie continues, "thank you."

"You're welcome, dear.," she stares behind Stevie's head, pointing her finger, "next time you make a remark like that, we'll be on high school time and you can call your mother and tell her why you can't act right in class. Grow up."

Stevie full on snickers, along with a few others. Soon, the mundane mood returns and she's ready to pull her eyeballs out and sit them on her desk.

By the time the class could be properly dismissed, she rushes out of the door, grumbling to herself as the crowd of students seems to double as she squeezes her way through.

Rod's standing next to his his car, waiting for Stevie's last class to let out so they can hit their favorite wing spot.

He hears his name and looks up, his eyes immediately rolling upward at the sight of the pretty girl with the ugly attitude that was Tara. She was coming his way with an extra swing to her curvy hips.

"Lord, this broad finna get me killed," he says to himself.

"Hey, Jamal," she stops in front of him, a deceptively sweet smile on her face.

He scrunches his face at her name choice, flipping his snapback to the back.

"What? That's not your name anymore?," she asks.

"What you want, Tara?"

"Damn. Who pissed in your Cheerios this morning? I was just coming to invite you to this little kickback I'm throwing at my house this weekend."

"Thanks, but imma have to pass on that." He knows nothing good can come out of being anywhere with Tara, especially at her house.

"Come on now, Rod. I thought we were cool. You can bring 'lil miss thing, too."

"You know her name, Tara. See, 'lil shit like that is why we can't be cool."

"Rod, I'm just kidding. Look, I promise I'll be good."

Something about her tone feels...grimy. There's an undercurrent that isn't as innocent as she was trying to let on. "I just wanna spend some time with an old friend. What's so bad about that?"

 "Nothing when you don't have the history we do. And my girl really don't fuck with you, so there's no need for any of that."

"What can I do to prove to her it's not like that?," she asks, annoyed.

"Leave us alone," he says matter-of-factly.

"Word?," she runs her fingers through her fiery red hair, "One new girl in a list of many, and we not nothing anymore? That's what that means?," she says inching closer to fill the gap between his spread legs, a look in her eyes that would break him if it were Stevie's eyes he was looking into.

But they weren't. They had a jade-like lustre, but lacked all traces of the warmth looking into Stevie's soulful brown eyes filled him with.

It was really no contest.

As he was pushing her back a voice sounded, and by the tone, he knew it was about to get really ugly, really fast.

Little to both of their knowledge, Stevie's class let out, and she was making her way to his car, but stopped short to watch the scene in front of her play out.

"That's exactly what the fuck it means, bitch."

Her signature gold hoops were already out of her ears, having snatched them off and chucked them in her bag.

Rod can't get a single word out before she's pushing him back to put more distance between them, shrugging off her bag.

"I'm truly sick and motherfuckin' tired of having to see you in my man's face every time I look up," her pointer finger is dangerously close to Tara's face.

Of course Rod knows Stevie curses, but her mouth is a new level of slick. It's a terrible time, but he's turned on to the max.

Tara makes the mistake of flicking her hand away, a smug look on her face.

"Baby girl, that's everybody's man. You better get used to that shit."

Stevie merely nods, "Bet."

Blindsiding Tara, Stevie cocks back and sends a quick, yet powerful left to Tara's eye.

Several 'oh shit's' sound throughout the parking lot, but Stevie pays it zero mind. Her only purpose in the moment is to black both of her target's eyes, quite possibly worse.

Tara's no stranger to street fights, so she tries to hold her own, getting in a nasty scratch to Stevie's cheek.

They trade blows, both catching each other with substantial punches.

Tara dips under Stevie's arms and tackles her to the pavement, gaining the upper hand long enough to backhand her and swing her arm to catch the other cheek with her palm.

She's no match for her unbridled rage, though. Stevie hooks her leg around Tara and rolls them over, sending blow after blow to her face. Tara grabs a chunk of her hair, angering her further.

"Let my fuckin' hair go!," she sends a punishing lick straight to her nose. She's positive she broke it.

Good.

She feels arms trying to pull her away and a soft voice near her ear attempting to calm her down.

She flings her arm backward and catches whomever the unlucky bastard was directly in the forehead in a very Helga from Hey Arnold! fashion.

All she sees is black.

It takes two pairs of arms to finally pry her off the girl who is near motionless.

She snatches herself away from both of them when they get her far enough away from the body.

"I'm good! Worry about scraping that bitch up off the ground."

She briskly walks away from the scene, leaving her bag where it lay.

"Stevie, wait!" Rod grabs it and jogs to quickly catch up to her.

She speeds up her pace in an effort to get as far away from everybody as possible.

"Stevie, stop!" He grabs her arm, only needing a light amount of force to turn her around.

"Don't touch me," she says, yanking from his hold, pushing him back.

Rod runs his hand over his face, exhaling harshly to calm himself, watching her continue to go off. "Go help that dog-faced hoe find her teeth."

"I don't want shit to do with that girl! Fuck you mad at me for??”

"You let the conversation go on too fucking long! I been told you the type of time her ass was on, and you still let the bitch play in your face!"

At this point, people are looking at the continued spectacle, some worried there may be a second fight.

"Stevie, let's talk about this at home," Rod says uninterested in giving nosy Nancy's any more entertainment.

"I ain't going nowhere with you!"

He pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling a migraine come on.

"Alaina," he started in a tone that brooked no argument, "let's go."

She stares at him with no back down in her gaze, until she, too, was made aware of the many pairs of eyes privy to their argument.

She sighs, relenting and walking with Rod to his car.

They ride in silence for a long while before she breaks it with something he never thought he'd hear out of her.

An apology.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have put all that on you. I know it wasn't your fault that she ain't take the hint. I know you did and said everything you needed to, to get her to see the point."

He can tell she's sincere, even though her eyes stay on the road ahead of them. He remains silent, sensing there's more on the tip of her tongue.

"I was just so...mad. I haven't felt that kind of rage since...," she trails off, but he knows exactly where she's coming from. "She was just another person who wasn't going to stop until she tore us apart for good. And I'll be damned if I was just gonna let her," her voice breaks up toward the end, making him soften even further.

He chances resting his hand on her thigh, thankful she doesn't rebuff him, and squeezes it. She places her scuffed up hand on top of his.

"I understand, baby," he says softly, "trust me, I do."

They make it home where Stevie grabs a rag and a bowl of ice to tend to her injuries.

"I'm proud of you, shorty," Rod leans on the wall as Stevie places the bare ice cube on her bruised knuckle.

She scoffs a laugh, staring at him through her lashes. "You ain't mad ‘bout ya forehead, no more?"

"Nah, it was an accident, remember?" He replies, sarcastically.

"I swear it was." She snickers. He walks towards her and wraps his arms around her waist, kissing her neck.

"Does it still hurt?," he asks, cupping his hand underneath hers, catching the water from the ice, before it hits the floor.

"Not really, it just stings."

She grabs the rag off the counter and dries her hand, before reaching for the gauze.

"Let me do it." He walks in front of her and rolls out the white adhesive bandage.

"You want it wrapped tight?" He rolls it around her hand, twice. She winces, causing him to start unwrapping it.

"No, that was fine. Go ahead." He nods, before wrapping it another time, and tearing off the excess.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." He thumbs over the inch long scratch on her face, scowling.

"It's ugly, I know." Stevie laughs.

"It'll fade," pulling her into him, he kisses her, "you're still beautiful."

"Mmhm?, what else?" She asks between kisses.

"Mm, you're a bad ass.," picking her up, he unceremoniously knocks everything off the counter, placing her on top of it.

Stevie grips the collar of Rod's shirt as she deepens the kiss, while he pops the button on her pants, roughly yanking them off of her.

"We ain't makin' it to the bed, huh?"

"We don't need a bed, baby..." his lips trail up her neck to her ear, "I'd fuck you, anywhere."

Pulling off her jeans, he goes for her shirt next, popping each button off as he rips it open. The gasp that comes out of her mouth, only fuels him.

He pulls it completely off, taking care to not agitate her hand and flings it carelessly across the kitchen.

Her hands grip the front of his pants, closing the space between them, locking their lips while she deftly undoes his belt buckle, and pops the button on his jeans. She pulls them down as far as her hands can reach, using her feet to push them down the rest of the way.

He gathers a fistful of hair at the base of her neck and pulls it backward. With the length of her neck exposed, he kisses his way down to the valley of her breasts.

He has no desire or patience to fiddle with the multiple clasps of her bra, so he simply pulls the cups down. He wraps his lips around her hardened nipple, soft whimpers leaving her mouth. After showing proper attention to the other side, he kisses his way to her now-throbbing center.

He runs his nose up her slit, and she lets out a shaky breath. Teasingly, he kisses her clit through her panties.

"Baby, quit playin'," she whines breathlessly.

"You gotta tell me what you want, babygirl," he says while stroking her with his index finger.

"Put your lips on me."

"My pleasure." He smirks, grabbing her by the waist and picking her up off the counter. Bending her over so she's flush with the cold marble, he kneels down so he's eye level with her girl.

He yanks her panties to the side and his mouth waters at the sight of her glistening, pink lips.

He wastes no time in devouring her, sucking on her pearl like a piece of butterscotch.

Her thighs begin to quiver as she claws at the countertop. Her breathy moans are sweet music to his ears. She feels the familiar pressure build in her lower stomach, which makes her attempt to move further up the counter to catch a break from the pleasure overload.

He doesn't allow her that, pulling her back and locking his arms around her thighs. He pushes his face harder against her, shaking his head.

"Oh, fuck!," she curses, tapping on the counter as her orgasm rushes through her, drenching his face in her stickiness.

She rests her forehead on the counter, breathing heavily. Her breaths turn to soft mewls as he cleans her mess with his tongue. A low noise of surprise leaves her mouth when she feels his tongue graze over her other hole.

They'd have to explore that further and soon.

"Okay, okay," she pushes his head away, making him chuckle.

He rises, leaning over her with his lips underneath her ear, and kisses the skin there.

"Too much, baby girl?," he grabs the base of his dick and rubs the tip against her slit.

"Yeah," she responds breathlessly, feeling sparks run through her body at the contact.

"Too bad," he sheaths himself inside her fully with a single stroke, knocking the air from her lungs.

The sound of her gasps went straight to his manhood, pushing himself deeply inside her every time he thrusted.

He gathers both her wrists in one hand behind her back, using his free one to grip her neck.

The pressure on her neck combined with his lethal strokes had her leaking down her inner thighs. The only thing Rod hates about this position is that he can't see sexy love faces she makes. How her juicy bottom lip gets wedged between her teeth and how her eyes roll into the back of her head when it's getting good to her.

He'd make sure to set the camera up next time.

His own breathing starts to become labored. His strokes get sloppy as they near their peaks.

"Damn, this shit grippin' me up, baby. You wanna cum? Hm?," he says lowly in her ear.

The only sounds she can produce are strangled moans, as his hand still firmly grips her neck. He releases his hold on her wrists to bring his hand down on her ass cheek, making her hiss. "I asked you a fuckin' question."

It feels like he's trying to turn her inside out, but she's just able to shriek out a 'Yes! Yes daddy, I wanna cum!'

There's that word again. He's never going to let her forget it, now.

She surprises him once again, throwing her ass back on him in time with his strokes.

"Yeah, princess. Just like that." He swats her ass again, rubbing his hand over the reddening patch of skin.

She screams his name up into the ceiling as she cums. The sheer force of it pushes him out of her as she slides off the counter.

"Shit," she mutters, turning to face him on her knees, cupping her sensitive heat.

She looks up at him as he strokes his length. "Where you want it?" She responds by opening her mouth and sticking out her tongue with a wink.

"Nasty ass," he smirks. A few more pumps of his fist, and he erupts onto her waiting tongue in spurts. Some of it misses and lands on her chest. She doesn't waste a bit, using her finger to swipe it off, and sucking it clean.

He pulls her up, shamelessly kissing her dead in the mouth.

She sneaks her hand down between them, wrapping her slender fingers around the girthy piece to stroke it back to life. His hand gently catches her wrist, halting her movements.

"Don't play with me, girl. I'll fuck you up in here."

She snickers at the threat, "Don't threaten me with a good time, Rod." Giving him one last kiss, she moves her hand and starts to walk away toward their bedroom.

He shakes his head and tosses her over his shoulder as if she weighs nothing.

It's gonna be a long afternoon.

Sex.

Heavy breathin' ,

Soul sharin' ,

Blissful eruption.

Sensations that make your skin crawl in the best way possible.

Make you wanna get on your knees and repent...

Nothin' should feel that good.

Addictive.

Got you sayin' things,

doin' things,

actin' ways.

All for that thang.

Can't go days without it.

It'll make you say...

"I love you"

"I'll kill for you."

"I'll kill you."

"Fuck,"

Another two rounds of the most toe curling orgasms later, the extra dewy pair finally conclude their hour(s) long session.

"I'm exhausted." Stevie pants, rolling over on the messy sheets.

"Are you?" Rod chuckles, too tired to move from his spot.

She hums a laugh, before pushing her wild hair away from her face to look at him. "I physically can't go, anymore."

"Well, we did fuck three times."

"Saying that out loud sounds absurd."

"Not if you like fuckin'.... which we do."

"On top of you getting your point across.," Stevie shakes her head, before placing it on the pillow.

"Did I?"

"Yes," she laughs, "you got it across, when you broke me off on the bathroom counter, but I just let you keep goin'."

The widespread grin on his face makes her roll her eyes, and turn over to face the window.

"C'mere, girl." Rod pulls her back into his heated body, wrapping his arm over her.

The small droplets of rain, hitting the window, slowly turn heavy. Rod pulls Stevie in closer and brushes her hair away from her neck, kissing her smooth skin.

"Hey," he speaks.

"Yeah?" She asks.

"Nobody could ever come between me and you."

@blackerthings @thegifstories @sheabuttahwrites @soufcakmistress @blowmymbackout @lemmewritesomeish @trippyscotch @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @ghostfacekill-monger @abeautifulmindexposed

[engelfeather]

Fangs and Fur: chapter 7

Blood warning!!

He felt his eyes flicker open, as light shimmered into them, blinding him for a second. He gently rubbed his eyes, trying to figure out what happened. Unsure where exactly he was, he tried to get up, as a painful feeling shot through his left leg. He hissed in pain and slumped back on to the ground. Looking down at his leg, he saw that a sloppily made cast was secured around it, finally it hit him.

He was alive

Xavier was alive.

But how..-

He couldn't even finish his own thought as a huge shadow was cast over his body, sending shivers down his aching body. There was only one explanation for this

The giant saved him. But why..

Red eyes pierced their way into a broken soul. Xavier tried backing away, which resulted in him bumping into a soft wall of white fluff. He froze, slowly turning to look at the huge hand blocking his path. Though what horrified him more was the fact that it seemed to be ripped off. Quickly facing the giant in horror and even confusion in 'what the fuck!?' The giant nervously chuckled, taking his own hand with the other one and practically attaching it back to his arm, like some doll. Flexing it, showed that there, apparently, was no injury. Honestly, at this point, Xavier expected and accepted anything. Nothing could surprise him anymore, if the giant, with the name Angel, who looks like its parents were marshmallows, can detach his hands.. arms or legs at will, then he'd just have to accept that.

Seeing Xavier huff in response to him taking back his hand, he frowned slightly. "Sorry," the giant spoke in an apologetic tone ", I thought you might like it if I didn't outright err, outright touched you. But it seems like you found that way worse-" Angel chuckled, trying to poke Xavier's tiny body with the tip of his finger. Xavier in response shot him a glare, backing away defensively. Angel wasn't too big if a fan of that, rolling his eyes "Oh please, it's a tiny injury, quite literally, you'll survive!"

Xavier looked down to his leg, frowning at the events of the past day.. maybe even two or three? Who knew, he surely didn't. He had no nerves for this motherfucker before him. Clenching his fist, he flailed it around in the air. With a louder voice, to make sure he got his point across, he spoke "Why the fuck did you save me! I didn't need to be saved, I don't want to be in this damn hell hole any longer!" He honestly didn't care anymore, he wanted nothing less but to be released from his suffering. "Awh 'cmon, last night was fun! For me at least hehe.. ehh.. though I have to cover all these holes I made in the wall now-.. ooo~! Maybe I could hang future pictures of us together up there!" Angel purred at the thought, swishing his tail around in excitement. Xavier, on the other hand, stared at him as if he just insulted his whole bloodline. Why on earth did this beast think he'd even consider taking any kind of picture with it. He wasn't happy that this Angel guy dodged his question as well..

// *~°Flashback°~* //

Angel coughed at the dust that swirled up into his throat. Brushing it off of his clothes, he crouched down, so that he was eye level with the hole he just created. He wasn't sure if he just misheard it, but he was sure he heard a crack. After the dust settled, he could clearly look inside now. There, under some of the fallen debris, laid the little guy named Xavier. At first he thought he had given up, accepted his fate as his new plaything, which Angel found quite cute. "Cmon, get up, I decide when you get to sleep now and now is not the time for that haha!" He chuckled, carefully poking the human to wake him up. But Xavier didn't budge.. not even a groan. Nothing. Angel couldn't have broken his spirit all too quickly, surely he didn't.. maybe he went a bit too rough on the guy. He grew more nervous by the second. He didn't want to kill the little guy this quickly. Or at all, though he quickly pushed away the thought.

He killed the little guy!

He groaned, this wasn't what he wanted. He just wanted to mess around, adjust the human to its new life! Not outright kill it. Sighing, he leaned in close, to sniff Xavier's supposed corpse. As his nose brushed against the human's body, a small gust of wind blew against his muzzle, causing him to pull away. Surprised, he leaned in once more, to get a second look. Doing so, when he focused hard enough, made him hear faint breathing noises. Though when he looked further down, he saw how its chest barely lifted up.. shit. If he doesn't do something soon, the small guy was doomed.

Carefully he pushed away the rocks that trapped the guy, revealing a deep, bloody wound. He remembered how humans tended to die from the simplest things, this including the lack of red fluid running in their veins. If he wouldn't treat the wound, the loss of blood would surely end him. Slowly sliding his fingers under his victim's body, he tried supporting the almost ripped off leg with his other hand. Maybe he should've ripped it off completely, it would've surely healed in a few days or so, though he didn't want to risk waking the human up so soon or worse, killing it completely. Oh, how frail they were, what a pity, truly sad.. pathetic.

He sighed in his own misfortune, he just wanted to play with the little guy, but he also knew it wouldn't be nearly as fun if the human was all broken. How on earth would the guy flail around!Angel stared at the almost shredded limb and with a little concentration, used his abilities. The blood, as if possessed, slowly flowed back inside of the broken legs veins. Sure, he couldn't heal the limb, but this at least prevented that more blood was lost. He sighed, placing the unconscious body on top of his nightstand and leaving to find something to bandage the leg with. He learned in the past how to secure an open wound, though he didn't know how to make a cast. What he did know was that he had to immobilise the area, perhaps he could snap a toothpick in half and tie it around the injured area to prevent the lil guy from moving it all too much.

He left to get a toothpick and something to bandage the wounded area. Carefully, he tried cutting a bit off of the bandage, not too much or less. Not that he accidentally tied it too tight, that would surely do more harm than good. Returning to his little patient, he couldn't help but awe at how cute he looked to him, even with the broken limb. He'd have so much fun playing with him after his new little friend was healed. His tail flicked around in delight as he tried to wrap the bandage around the humans leg and snapped toothpick, making sure he didn't squeeze the limb too tightly.

After he finished he backed away, as if to look at his new, somewhat sloppy, creation. Proud of what he made, he leaned back down, just to observe the human.

// *~°Present°~* //

"Ya know, I could've been way more harsh to you! You should be glad that I didn't do anything worse! ...how long have you even been here." Angel wanted to spark up a conversation after another long minute of silence. Xavier just grumbled in disdain, he didn't see a reason to talk to the monster that almost took his life for a "silly" game.

[ No. No. It wasn't just some silly game, HE was a person, not some ... Toy to be messed with. ]

"...where exactly did you even stay all this time. Not near my bed right? Right. That would be extremely creepy.. you have a whole house and you would've chosen it in my bedroom? Let's hope not, sigh the again we already established that you are a weird creep, so it's a possibility...." Xavier groaned and buried his face in his hands, embarrassed and mostly annoyed. The worst part was that the giant wasn't wrong. Not that he was a creep, he definitely wasn't, but that he stayed in a hole in Angels bedroom. It wasn't his fault that he was too exhausted to try to find a different place.

Looking back up, he saw how Angel began investigating his room for Xavier's 'living space', he would've told him, but honestly he couldn't care less if the giant wasted more of its energy. So he merely rested his head back on his arms.

Even after the giant found it, he just accepted it, he didn't have anything to hide in there.. "Why the fuck is there a whole pile of my fur here!" ...except that. He had completely forgotten that he collected the fur of the giant to make a makeshift bed. Shit. Clenching his fist, he looked back up and with a rather sarcastic tone, he said "Oh! Well maybe I, the 'disgusting' pervert, didn't want to have back problems sleeping on the floor, after another longggg day of circling around in that damn hole!" Xavier flared his nostrils out of frustration.

Angel didn't find this amusing, as if he was talked down to by a literal bug of a man. "tsk.. don't have that attitude with me! I was just.. surprised." Xavier rolled his eyes, mumbling to himself "Nenene 'dont have that attitude with me', who does he think he is? My mom? Fucking asshole.. as if killing everyone in my city wasn't enough.." He made sure the giant didn't hear him, he didn't want to be squeezed again. Looking away and rolling his eyes, he didn't realise that the giant returned to him. Now peering down at his smaller frame, he flinched at the huge shadow looming over him. Angel let out a small growl. Displeased by his rude, yet true words. "Don't forget your place. Just because I was kind enough to save your pathetic ass, doesn't mean I'll be all nice to you now and let you insult me. Tsk, I expected more from a guy that is the reason his people are all dead!" Xavier's eyes widened, he wasn't expecting to hear that.

He didn't kill his people.. how on earth would that be possible. Confused and angered at the blatant disrespect he snapped back "What.. what does that even mean! You killed them! Not me! It's not my fault I wanted to survive so I hid in your... Your disgusting fur! You gross bastard don't disrespect the lives that were lost like that! Tsk.."

Angel growled, almost grabbing him, but refraining. If he grabbed him now, he'd crush him for sure, that's not what he wanted. So with a slam, on the wooden table, right next to Xavier, he managed to silence him, preventing him from speaking further. "You don't get it, human! I always fix the things I destroy by simply making sure I leave no trace of my existence behind in that world." Pinching his temple, he closed his eyes to take a deep breath, continuing. "Before you ask why this works.. I don't fully get it either! I... I guess it works due to the laws of the universe or whatever. With no objects of mine left behind, it's as if I never existed in that world to begin with! Meaning all of my actions get reversed." Angel said, now pointing to himself in a more dramatic motion to emphasise his point. Xavier on the other hand just stared into his eyes, slowly peacing this new info together to make it make sense. Looking down he spoke In a softer, quieter voice than he had before "...So what you're saying is.. that they're still alive? ...somehow-" Gazing back up at Angel, he could see a glint of sadness in his eyes. Though that quickly got replaced by huge waves of anger flooding in. "No, pipsqueak! Because you decided it would be a great idea to hide in my fur and get transported here, the items you left behind, including your home, tiny weird trinkets you surely have and any kind of speck of dust you ever lost isn't just proof of your existence in that world.. but now mine too."

There was a long pause, the air radiating with tension. Xavier broke the eye contact, yet was only capable of staring into the distance, wherever that was. "No... It can't be. This- ... No no.. NO! This isn't my fault.. it's yours! You were still the person who killed all those people! Don't you dare try to blame this on me you... You disfigured Marshmallow on steroids!"

This time Angel didn't hold back, how dare he be blamed for something that obviously wasn't his fault. Quickly he snatched the human up, closing his fist tighter around him and ignoring the protest, squirms or 'attacks' against him. "If you just allowed me to do what I wanted to do and played nicely, you wouldn't have been the reason they're all dead now! You.. you are the only reason they're dead. Urgh, it was just a damn game! But you had to make it all serious!"

With each passing moment Xavier felt the air in his lungs escape, the only thing he could muster up was an angry yet quivering tone "th... The life of tho..se people... weren't...something to...pl ...ay..with."

He closed his eyes, hoping for the pressure to finally stop. Instead a sharp pain ran through his left leg. Until all of a sudden it stopped.

He could hear a faint thump with the giant gasping right after. Luckily for him, the giant loosened his grip, allowing him to breathe. Though gazing into the giants now guilty eyes, nervousness built up. Unsure of what had happened and what hit the ground, his attention was brought to the floor below him. In an instant his face twisted into a horrifying grimace. Tears slowly built up as he stared down in terror.

There, laying on the floor, in a bloody mess, was his, now torn, left leg.

Previous chapter:

[mywifeymax]

Who Would have thought---💌🌲(Bellamy Blake X reader) Part Two

(Y/n pov)

*Finding Jasper tied to a tree I quickly try to make my way over to him but suddenly felt myself drop but someone held onto my hand I looked up meeting eyes with Bellamy as he pulled me up* "Careful princess"He said

*Making my way over to Jasper I quickly cutt him down from the tree but we stop as we heard sounds suddenly there was a tinger that came out of nowhere and Bellamy quickly shot it* "There's dinner for the night"Bellamy said

-----

*getting back to the camp I quickly helped Clarke carry Jasper into the dropship and I held his hand in mine* "Hey jasp everything is going to be okay you're home now"I whispered soft words to him as he yelled out in pain

----

That happened for a few days *As I stuck by his side I made sure to dap his forehead with the water I looked over as I saw Bellamy come in* "He's suffering can't you guys see that?"He asked "because he's in pain"I said "I give it by tommrow then I am killing him putting him out of misery"Bellamy said "You touch him and I swear to God"I said "What are you going to do huh?"Bellamy said "Guys enough"Finn said "Don't worry I find the stuff before tommrow Finn do you want to come with me?"Clarke asked "Yeah come on"Finn said

*As they left I stayed by Jasper's side not leaving it one bit* "I don't know why you're so in love with him I mean man couldn't even defend himself"Bellamy said "You don't understand anything"I said harshly "Whatever just remembered what I said"Bellamy said I hate Bellamy I hated him so much he was nothing but a controlling prick.

*As the night went on Jasper kept screaming out in pain and I squeezed his hand telling him words of encouragement and I watched as Octavia quickly made her way up the ladder and shut the door sealing it* "What the hell?"I asked "Murphy going to try and kill Jasper"She said *I nodded as I kept dapping Jasper forehead and keeping pressure on the wound*

------

*The next day Clarke made it back with the stuff we needed as she took care of Jasper and we all waited for him to wake up I sat there anxiously*

"Hey guys"Jasper weak voice said *sitting up quickly I took his hand* "Hey jasp"I said "Hey y/n where is Octavia?"Jasper asked as he asked that I felt tiny different stabbed wounds go into my heart "She's downstairs I'll go get her"I said "Okay"He said with a nod

*Climbing down the later I walked over to her* "Jasper wants to see you"I said *I watched as she quickly got up and climbed up the ladder* "Jeleous don't look good on you you know"Bellamy said coming up from beside me "I'm not jeleous"I said "Says the girl that was refusing to leave his side until he woke up"Bellamy said "As long as he is happy"I said "God you're really something aren't you?"Bellamy said "And you're a pain in the ass"I said

*Leaving the drop ship I walked off to my tent as I sat down and sighed* I guess this was my life now being down here on earth with a snearkie ass guy like Bellamy and watching the guy I had a crush on since I was 3 fond over another girl yup this was something I definitely wanted

-----

*As night came I left my tent as I saw a girl going into Bellamy's tent I rolled my eyes* God he's disgusting

*I walked over to Murphy who was just leaning against the dropship* "I guess you got nothing better do?"He asked "How did you know?"I asked "Well knowing you normally you be arguing with Bellamy over something or hanging out with that little boyfriend of your's"Murphy said "Yeah boyfriend"I scoff "Guessing things didn't work out between you and Jasper?"He asked "He's to found over Octavia"I said "Don't blame him honestly"He said "Dont you have something to do like kick wells ass?"I asked "I've been trying but Finn been getting in the way"Murphy said "Oh well I see"I said

*As sat in silence I looked at the dropship* "I'm going to go check on Jasper"I said "Have fun with that"Murphy said

*going inside I walk to the ladder as I climb up I walked over to Jasper and he sat up and I quickly helped him* "Is it true?"Jasper asked suddenly "What do you mean?"I asked "You're feelings for me is it true?"He asked how did he know about them "Jasp-"I said "Answer the question y/n is it true?"He asked "Yes it's true"I said "I appreciate it but I think we are better off as friends"Jasper said "Jasper why are you being so distant all of a sudden?"I asked "Because I like Octavia"Jasper said "Oh okay I see"I said

-----

*climbing down the ladder I suppressed my tears and I stopped as I saw Bellamy walk up to me* "We got a problem"He said "What could it possibly be this time?"I asked "wells is dead"Bellamy said with a serious tone

*I watched as everybody gathered around as we all barried him into the ground and I left the scene as I walk to the tent where the investigation was taking place by the console*

"Who do think could have done it?"Jasper asked "We don't know it could be anybody"Clarke said *I walked over to the knife and picked it up* "J.M"I read out "That's Murphy's"Bellamy said "No he couldn't have I mean he wouldn't have"I said "It's his knife"Clarke said "How about we tell nobody"I said "I actually agree with princess here"Bellamy said "No they deserve to know"Clarke said "Someone else is either going to get hurt or die"I said

-----

*As the other confronted Murphy I stayed back as they are trying to hang him for his crimes and I ran to Bellamy* "Stop it's too far!"I yelled out "No princess it's what the people wants!"Bellamy said as the crowd cheered him on

*Suddenly Charlotte confess that it was her and all of us stopped as we looked at her I exchanged glances with Bellamy as we quickly made out way to her and dragged her to the tent*

"Bellamy what the hell are we going to do?"I asked "I don't know but the others are going to want her blood we need to find a way to protect her"Bellamy said "I'll hide her"I said "Are you sur?"He asked "I'm positive"I said "I'll come with you"Bellamy said "Fine whatever"I said.

-To be continued -

[koreposion]

Geno decides that the most sane person to talk with is the least sane

Ink always took pride in his work and the work of others. Watching AUs play out as he drew smaller stories to go along with it. Placing them into the painting that was flushed with love and life from a creator. His dedication always surprised Geno given that Ink found suffering necessary.

Geno was sat in a pile of blankets made from multiple fabrics, it was honestly texture hell. He'd shift and would feel different textures that shouldn't even be made into blankets. Soon Ink came over noticing his discomfort and brought out a fluffy blanket it. With ease he picked Geno up and then placed the blanket down.

He then laid Geno back down, making himself comfortable beside him. He put away his massive brush so it was easier to cuddle against his companion, "So...what do you want to talk to me about."

Geno wasn't really expecting Ink to ask him right out but someone had to start the conversation, "Well...Blue and Dream have been weird about me getting used to being a protector or whatever... It's really bothering me."

"Why is it bothering you, from what I've seen they've been really sweet about it." Ink questioned as he popped open his blue and pink vile. Choosing emotions that might help him understand Geno's worries.

Geno watched in understanding, at least Ink wasn't just brushing his words off, "Well Blue gets really jealous when I want to spend time with the Bad Apples, but like... they're sort of my friends too. Even if they are just work friends. And Dream hasn't told me a single thing about his power in a way that makes sense."

As he spoke he hugged Ink tightly, happy to find some comfort that wasn't fueled by magic.

"That's probably because the Bad Sanses already have each other and Blue doesn't really...well he needs to be around mortals that understand him." Ink looked at Geno with soft cotton candy eyes, "Sure he has his friends in his AU but they don't understand how much pressure he's under. Me and Dream don't really have limits, he does and you do."

A soft hum left Geno as he recalled moments where Blue would cancel plans to hang out with him. Spending time with Geno inside and playing videogames instead of going out shopping. Cooking with him even though Blue realized that maybe he wasn't the best at it. Helping Geno through the mall because everything was so overwhelming...

Blocking hits that would have shattered Geno into pieces and smiling at him. A wave of guilt washed over him as he thought about it all. Someone shouldn't care about him so much...

"He thinks you're great and is afraid to lose you. With the other mortals we tried to get to join the issue always seemed to be with Blue. Even when they started having dreams and what not. They just... didn't like him." Ink then pulled away for a moment, showing Geno a list. It was of all the other candidates that had failed in working with Blue.

"Of course it wasn't his fault but after all of these failures it's hard for him not to think that." Ink said, blinking his eyes turned to a muted shade of blue. A mickey of the feeling sorrow, "He just wants to be careful but is worried that you might like the others more than him."

"I never really thought about it that way, I was just happy to be around other monsters." Geno squeezed Ink softly, "It doesn't feel like I'm dreaming that way."

Ink chuckled lightly and put the list away, "Then just tell him that and talk with him. He probably doesn't understand that you feel that way. He knows you're happy to be out of the void but doesn't really understand why that is."

That sounds slightly familiar to Geno,

"Probably like you don't understand why he's so happy to have you around." Ink said with a smile while poking Geno's forehead, "You two saps just need to talk it out."

Geno cracks a tiny smile as Ink pokes him. Talking about it is better than just rushing into things mindlessly. He wanted to give Blue a proper apology and possibly a gift to show that he means it.

"So what about Dream?" Geno asked and something made him cringe at his own question. Like he shouldn't be questioning the person who saved him from his personal hell.

"Dream is totally using magic on you." Ink shrugged as he spoke, acting like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Geno shot up in his spot and almost started flailing around if it weren't for Ink holding onto him, "What! That's- He can't-" as he spoke his words stopped themselves as pain shook his body.

Ink then made him lay back down, patting his chest softly to sooth him, "He can, and that's why he's doing it. By our standards your body is frail and one wrong second could cost you so much."

Geno pouted, feeling a warm liquid travel down his face. He wiped off his nose and found some blood...it was tinted yellow, "Yeah but..."

"Don't question out loud too much, it'll hurt you." Ink said as he wiped the blood from Geno's face with his scarf, "Basically he's rearranging your magic so it takes a more solid form. This will make you easier to heal and harder to kill. It's not without it's costs, like The mad scribbling but it's a fair price to pay."

"It shouldn't be possible." Geno mumbled, fustrated with how gentle Ink was being with him. It was comforting but it didn't help his worries in the slightest.

"Well to be fair, they are a God outside of AUs. The way they are created is from magic and emotions in it's purest form." Ink explained, bringing out a big sheet of paper, "They're powered by all the different AUs emotions so it's vast. They're basically their own creators, however they cannot fully change anything."

Ink then makes a chart, showing Dream using his magic. It covers the AU but soon it dwindles and only a little bit of Dream's magic stays, "A creator has to accept a change for it to happen. If an AU has a bad end but then Dream helps it get a good one. It's up to a creator if it sticks. Same thing with Nightmare, if an AU has a good end but he makes it a bad one then a creator can make it stick."

Geno plucked the paper out of the air and looked over it. Overall it made sense, "So if Dream changes me...then a creator has to make it stick?"

"Exactly! The issue with you is that you were stuck in the void so you're being overwhelmed by a process that would normally not effect anyone too much." Ink said before taking the paper from Geno and burning it, "So it may get worse before it gets better, it depends on if you yourself resists Dream."

"....Is that a warning?" Geno questioned Ink, leaning onto him with a tired look.

"Not really, I don't care what you do. I just think it's fun that you're here and with us." Ink blushes, pink and blue covering his skull, "It would be selfish of me to ask you to stay though."

"Yeah...it would be...but I don't mind it. At least that means you want me here." Geno says as he looks up at Ink with a small smile, "Thanks for talking with me."

Ink gave him a big grin, "Anytime! Now if you'll excuse me." He got off the pile of covers and went back to the middle of the space. There was a gagging noise as he expelled ink from his mouth. It being black and coagulated as it hit the floor with a splat.

Ink's body then went ridged before he turned his head around. He was clearly trying to remember something and even checked his scarf. Then he finally looked back at Geno with bright wide eyes,

"Geno! When did you get here?!" Ink smiled as he walked towards the pile.

[marvelmaniac715]

Andy finally goes to therapy. His therapist suggests that he writes a letter to Chucky expressing his feelings about everything that’s happened to him, but the letter will never actually make it to Chucky, right?... This is that letter.

————————————————————-

Dear Chucky,

That doesn’t feel like the right way to start it. I’m not sure how else to start letters though, maybe I’d have more knowledge on the subject if I was able to attend school full time as a kid. I was bounced around so many foster homes and guardians that I never got a full education, I guess I owe that to you.

Sometimes I lie awake at night and wonder if you know just how much you affected me growing up. You severely impacted my life, yet every time we meet you don’t acknowledge this. Do you pretend that you didn’t play a part in traumatising me because it makes you feel better? Or do you know and just not care? The tiny part of me that wants to believe that there’s good in everyone would choose the former, but in my heart I know it must be the latter.

I googled you, did you know that? I learnt about your childhood, it was strangely healing to learn about the events that shaped you in your formative years. I saw a picture of you when you were about six or seven (the age I was when we first met) and I gotta admit, you were pretty cute. But the headline that accompanies the image I found reminded me that you’re psychotic. I know you killed your mom and dad, you’re beaming with pride in that photo, despite it being taken hours after their deaths. In horror movies, the killers usually had abusive childhoods that warped their perception of reality, but not you, huh? You were just born like that.

You grew up in a Home as well, so you can relate. That fact unsettles me, because you know how it feels to suffer, to grow up without parents. Yet you willingly chose that life for yourself, and you passed it on to me because why the hell not I guess. You made something inside my brain snap. I can’t pursue romantic relationships, I can’t maintain friendships or hold a job because I have trust issues. You fucked me up, Charles, and you have to face that.

I kid myself that I’m an adult, but sometimes when I see you I’m that scared little boy again, hiding behind his mother and desperately trying to prove that he isn’t insane, that his life is really in danger. My mom was traumatised too, she tries to hide it for my sake, but she can’t even look at a doll without breaking down into tears. If you read this part, you’d probably laugh that spine-chilling cackle of yours that still makes me jump every time it comes out of your mouth.

I was six years old, I just wanted a Good Guy doll for my birthday. My mom was just trying to make me happy, we didn’t have much but we had each other, life wasn’t bad. If I could go back in time I’d stab that first doll with a kitchen knife, that would’ve ended everything once and for all. If I really had the guts, I would’ve walked into that toy store where you lay dying and ripped that cursed doll out of your human form’s hands before you could even utter the incantation. But the past can’t be altered, it can only be reflected upon with a vague disappointment.

Was there ever a point where you saw me as a son? Maybe the first time around? Even when you tried to kill me, it was almost as if there was a certain fondness for me. You were the only constant male figure in my life, you taught me some valuable life lessons as well. Not to trust authority figures, because they can betray you. Not to give in to moments of weakness, you have to think on your feet in order to live. But most importantly, you taught me how to survive. With these things in mind, the case could certainly be argued that you were a father figure to me. In my angsty teen years, I certainly thought of you like that sometimes.

I have so much left to say, but I’m going to run out of paper. Long story short, I don’t forgive you, but I think I can understand you. The two of us are like kindred spirits, there’s so many similarities between us. Dead parents, grew up in the foster system, had to learn survival skills had a young age, if you disregard the murders, we could almost be the same person. The part of me that still cries out for a parental figure to fill that void in my life misses you, life is certainly much less interesting without you around. But I hope that I don’t see you again, because I enjoy living. You’re never gonna read this, but I hope you got a kick out of this, Dr. Mixter, maybe you found some information in here that can be brought up and worked on in future therapy sessions?

‘Kindest’ regards,

Andy Barclay

[miens-reading-nook]

Year of the Reaper by Makiia Lucier

Pages: 352 Published: 9 Nov 2021 My Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Content warnings at the end

Both versions of the cover are absolutely stunning, and as soon as I started reading, I knew I was going to love this book.

From the get go, the picture the author paints of this universe is so fraught with tension and fear, it becomes instantly terrifying in the way only ordinary and real-life things are. Even though the author started writing this book in 2018 and thus was not inspired by the recent pandemic, I think no one alive today can remain unaffected by the genuine dread a world ridden with plague inspires. My first thought when I realized Cas was 18 was to roll my eyes and think, why are these characters always so young, why couldn't he have been 22 or something. But then you get to meet him and know him better and your heart breaks because yes, this boy is too young, and that's the whole point. Cas has spent the last three years in absolute hell, he's been irreparably changed by it, but he is still a boy. He's kind, and sensitive, and even though he's technically a man now, he's still so young in all the ways that matter. Every time he swallowed back tears, I wanted to reach through the pages and pull him into a hug. He is so loved, so cherished by everyone around him, it's so beautiful to see. Especially because it feels genuine. And yes, he's smart, strong, he has really good instincts and he saves the day as a main character is wont to do, but he's also kind, flawed, afraid, vulnerable, and so very, very human. He's so tired of death, so tired of suffering, but instead of turning into a bitter, jaded man, he retains the kindness and gentleness that made everyone hold him in such high regard in the first place. I think things would probably be different if he had found a different situation waiting for him in Palmerin, but regardless, he's so good, even if he doesn't believe so himself. I absolutely love how savage he is in the first flash back, by the way. The descriptions and the mental pictures I got as the story unfolded were so clear that it felt like watching a movie at times, I swear. And this scene in particular is so damn striking. And the hunt for the killer. Throughout the whole story, you're following Cas as he tries to figure out who tried to kill the baby prince when he arrived in Palmerin, and the author is leaving you crumbs and clues for you to reach a very obvious conclusion only to rip the rug from under you in a wonderfully constructed shocking reveal. I'm sure many people guessed who the killer was, but I'll admit the author totally had me fooled. It was an absolute pleasure to find out I was wrong. Cook's son in the corner absolutely broke my heart. I loved this book's take on spirits and afterlife. It's was nothing exceptionally different or groundbreaking, but it felt original in its own way. I loved the lynxes. Such a tiny detail, but I loved the idea of a city littered by pet lynxes, what a choice. And the fact that all of them gravitate toward Cas is wonderful. The surprise queer representation! However small and sad, I loved that the king’s answer to it was to imply half his military is queer too. Reading the author's note at the end and realizing it was inspired by a real story was also very cool. I think I would read more stories about this universe if the author decided to turn this into a series, but it also works perfectly as a standalone. The writing is incredible, the kind that makes you forget you're reading because you're completely absorbed by the story, the plot is great, the characters are fully fleshed and three dimensional, and it has just the right amount of hope and happy endings that you finish the book with a smile on your face even though it's filled with so many heartbreaking things. Content warnings: implied torture, gore, illness, amputation, human experimentation, black plague

[darthstitch]

Matthew has Feelings about his Boss.  

Not like THAT, you goddamn pervs.  He has Feelings for his Boss the same way that chick in that Brooklyn 99 meme had about that puppy.  Like, "I've only had Dream of the Endless as my Boss for about two minutes but if any of you motherfuckers hurt him, I have a very particular set of skills that will make me a nightmare for people like you."  

Yeah, he's mashing up his references, but Matthew doesn't care. His Nibbly Darkness, the Lord of Dreams and Nightmares has had a shit time this past century, no thanks to his bastard bitch of a sibling and seriously, Matthew thinks it's seventeen thousand kinds of fucked up that their idea of teaching their brother a "lesson" involves imprisonment, innocents caught in the crossfire and potential murder.

So yeah, Matthew is perfectly willing to throw down for his Boss if he has to.  

Except his Boss still has nightmares about poor Jessamy and it's manifesting itself in being oddly protective over Matthew in the absolute worst way.  Like, he's the Raven for Dream of the Endless now - he's got a job to do and maybe sometimes that has an element of risk to it but those are the breaks right?  Dream can't keep Matthew from attending to his duties and he's gonna do them, come hell or high water.  

And the perks are like, super amazing, because flying, woo to the hoo!  There's some magic stuff and some secret raven tricks that Lucienne has been teaching him, because she used to be Dream's Raven too. 

He's also got nesting privileges now, because it's nice to get some shut-eye in the Boss' coat.  It's hilarious because Dream will be all exasperated and say, "Matthew" in this long-suffering tone, but he accompanies that with gentle pets along Matthew's feathers and there's a tiny sweet smile playing about his lips.  Dream reserves those smiles just for a very select few - which currently includes the boyfriend that Matthew thoroughly approves of - and Matthew's proud to be one of them.

Matthew remembers the first time he got a proper hug from the Boss, which had scared off several years of his life.  And that was mostly because he felt real tears soak through his feathers and it was kind of awkward to manage a "there, there" with a wing but Matthew made it work somehow.  

He was a little proud that he did manage to coax his sad wet cat of a Boss out of whatever melancholic funk that Dream found himself in but yeah, that made Matthew nervous, because he knows all the signs of depression when he sees them and this is not a task one single Raven can undertake alone.  

Well, Lucienne actually said that first, when she first recruited Matthew.  He's taken them to heart.  

Mervyn was another one they'd nabbed along, because while Mervyn might have a mouth on him and tact wasn't exactly a word in his dictionary, but Mervyn was good people in the end.  The next was Abel, with Goldie peeping along. Then, thank the Creator, they'd finally managed to grab Hob Gadling who was a goddamn gift to them all, even if they had to put up with the occasional flower showers or the inadvertent appearance of blooms in every nook and cranny of the Castle.  

There was this one time, where they were all in the Dreaming's version of the New Inn, where Lucienne had finally gotten drunk enough to reveal one very important secret about the Boss.

There was a lot of swearing, and Matthew had to appreciate Hob Gadling for the colorful Middle English swearwords, which kinda had a weird harmony with Mervyn's cussing. But basically, it all amounted to a collective NOPE from everyone in this conspiracy. This wasn't going to happen. Not to their Morpheus. Not on their watch.

Dreams don't fucking die, Matthew had once said to his Boss, down deep in the bowels of literal Hell, with the Morningstar Herself about to move in for the kill. He's gonna make good and goddamn sure that Dream of the Endless will stay alive. He'll always have his Raven to guard his back for him.

-end-