#and that only gets better like i mentioned after he establishes his spin on the flash legacy and meets linda and so on

[cybervigilante]

talking about wally and roy on main has me thinking about how much wally benefitted from taking up the flash mantel. his early anxieties were always rooted in a weird kind of identity crisis mixed with a dire need for attention and recognition, and while the identity crisis persists even after he becomes the flash iii, what with the comparisons between him and barry just pouring in, once he constructs his own legacy ( founding and establishing the flash family, saving the world a billion times over, becoming the fastest man alive and surpassing barry ( and becoming the speedforce's darling ), being a mainstay in the league for his own capabilities rather than just being a replacement speedster and also finding linda and having the twins. ), he literally becomes less of a jerk and more of the genuinely good, kindhearted, funny hero we all think of when we think of wallace west.

[merotwst]

I'D MARRY YOU WITH PAPER RINGS ! -— fluff

‹ . octavinelle ›

⇝they're proposing to you! here's how they wanted to propose vs. how it actually went down.

¬ established relationship; adult characters; mention of sex on floyd's part but only in passing loool; fluff; no pronouns used

[ n: i love domestic fluff so much!!! also exactly 1.2k follows today. thank you all so much! ]

azul ashengrotto ‹ octavinelle ›

—- how he wanted to propose: azul wanted to propose somewhere intimate where it could be just the two of you. a quiet garden dinner with the smell of roses wafting around or the evening sea breeze, yellow lights hanging overhead, bathing you in a warm glow. soft music, candles and wine. then he'd get down on one knee and you'd say yes. he plays it in his mind over and over again until he finally has the ring in a box inside his pocket and he has it all planned out.

—- how it went down: he was going to ask you on that dinner date that evening after several weeks of planning it out. down to the very last detail, azul has made sure everything would go according to plan. a big smile on your face as he took your hand to the candlelit dinner under the stars, looking lovely in your evening attire just for him. his palms were getting a bit sweaty and his head spinning lightly with the wine. he felt like backing down. but the sight of your gorgeous face and the thought of having this ring on your finger for life gave him the courage to get down on one knee. you can only imagine how his eyes twinkled with love, heart soaring to the moon and back when he heard your answer.

jade leech ‹ octavinelle ›

—- how he wanted to propose: he didn't really find himself the type of person to plan something overly-extravagant for a marriage proposal. so he was thinking he'd just ask you a simple question after taking you out on a simple date out. in fact, he hadn't even considered proposing until a year ago when you casually brought it up. now he couldn't get the thought out of his head. jade had a plan, of course. he was jade after all.

—- how it went down: remember when i said he had a plan? a plan to have you in just the right setting? the perfect atmosphere, the perfect moment to say yes? yeah that all went out the window. because one evening when he came home to you preparing dinner, smiling so sweetly as he entered the kitchen, he was mesmerised. it wasn't the first time he'd seen you cook for both of you. you were in your casual house clothes as you chopped the ingredients on the chopping board, but you were so beautiful. so perfect and worthy of all his love and loyalty. and then the weight of the ring in his pocket suddenly felt heavy as he walked towards you. he was rarely ever nervous but he stood there, his hand in his pocket fumbling with the small box hidden from your view. you looked up onto his heterochromic orbs, setting down the spatula and giving him your full attention. he planned to start off by asking you what you were cooking but the four words that came out of his mouth were different. and the weight on his shoulders seemed to lighten as he took in your expression. maybe that's the thing jade loved most about you. you always find a way to wreck all his plans in the best way possible.

floyd leech ‹ octavinelle ›

—- how he wanted to propse: he didn't. bitch he did not plan on proposing at all. he was living his best life with you! going on adventures, being in love and bomb ass sex. he couldn't ask for anything better. after all, what else is there to need? he thinks your relationship is already perfect as it is.

—- how it went down: he wasn't planning on proposing. never even crossed his mind until one day, when out on a trip with you, he spots some guy getting down on one knee for his partner. and as the crowds clapped and cheered while he spun his new fiance around, he glanced at you, clapping along with the people around the happy couple and he realized he didn't have everything yet. it took exactly five seconds before he grabbed your arm and said he wanted to get married too. and as before his words registered on your mind, you found yourself nodding yes. and that very same day you both got married somewhere. i'll let you imagine how floyd managed to pull that off, but he did. and now floyd was sure he had everything he wanted. well, at least not until he realizes he would want something more the next time something catches his eye, but you wouldn't change a thing about him.

© merotwst 2023 × do not copy, steal or reproduce without permission

[createdbytragedy]

GIRLFRIEND PRIVILEGE

Pairing: Kang Taehyun x reader Genre: Fluff, established relationship Proceed to: Next part Being Taehyun's girlfriend comes with privilege. I just know it.

To love and to be loved by Kang Taehyun seemed liked privilege. Felt like a privilege and it was a privilege. There were so many subtle things that you thought were mundane but it turns out that it was something special. Taehyun wasn't exactly an affectionate guy. He didn't give affection and he didn't like receiving one either. His love language fall on the other side of the category like acts of service and quieter and more subtle actions rather than giving a big hug to show his love. At least, that's what his members thought.

It turns out, Taehyun tolerated enjoyed affection when it was coming from you. They first noticed it when they were back from tour. After not meeting for four months, your boyfriend was finally back in town. They didn't know what they expected. But, a full on bear hug with your legs around his waist, arms around his neck and him practically lifting you off the ground and spinning around was definitely not expected. But, the bright smile on Taehyun's face confirmed he really liked it. And how happy he was to see you. Soobin wasn't too happy hearing about this. Neither was Yeonjun. Taehyun had been avoiding all their 'love' all these years, claiming he don't like being 'touched' but after the stunt with you, they were convinced he was lying. You know, those times on the dorm when Soobin tries to sit besdie him but Taehyun always end up walking away, finding another seat saying he can't stand Soobin's body heat or some shit. Then you come around, sitting so close you were almost sitting on his lap and guess what? Taehyun didn't move a muscle to run away from your body heat or something, pulling you closer as both of you watched cats videos on his phone. Maybe you didn't have body heat. But as you dated longer, the more they realized you had this thing called, 'Taehyun's girlfriend privilege' where you get to do the things no one else can do to Taehyun. Like calling him an idiot, dumbass, shorty and get to live another day. Especially after calling him the last one. Or getting to ruffle his hair and make it identical to a bird's nest without getting your arm twisted. Taehyun was someone with boundaries. Reserved and kept to himself most of the time. He was also the most caring and attentive guy as the boys would say but he was never the guy he is now before he met you. How you went past all his boundaries and managed to make him smile at his worst days was something they really wanted to know. But, Taehyun was still hesitant about it. Shaking them iff whenever they asked him about it. But no one could miss the tiny smile etched on his face whenever someone mentioned your name.

You didn't know it yet but being Taehyun's girlfriend had a lot of privilege. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "But, it's different with (y/n)," Taehyun yelled, running way to avoid the hugs being forced onto him," she's my girlfriend. You guys are..... grown up?" Yeonjun scoffed ,"What the hell does that mean? We give better hugs, anyway." "Yeah. You were all giggly and happy when (y/n) gives you a hug. Why you making a face now?" Soobin interfered. "Because I only like it when (y/n) gives me physical affection!" "There. He said it." Beomgyu smirked, hiding his camera.

[aidenlydia]

hey ho!! the 09 simon sh anon here (what a weird title. anyways) first of all, thank you for replying! didn't know you hc simon as autistic, which makes him, in a way, even more relatable to me <33

i have another question, this time about simons and johnnys relationship. you mentioned that johnny helps simon cope, especially with his aggression / sh. do you have any specific headcanons how simon does that? do they have any specific rituals for when simon starts struggling? and also, the other way around, when johnny starts struggling with his OCD and depression?

cw: self-harm

Oh boy do I have a lot of thoughts about this. But first some definitions for those who are unfamiliar:

Autistic Meltdown - a intense response to overwhelming stress or dysregulation, leading to loss of control over behavior and difficulty calming down. Common signs include crying, yelling, rocking, pacing, dissociating, intense stimming and aggressive or self-injurious behavior (hitting, biting, kicking).

Shutdown - a form of meltdown where a person becomes extremely still, silent and withdrawn rather than outwardly aggressive.

Stimming - repetition of certain physical movements or vocalizations that autistic people use to calm themselves down or express their feelings.

Intrusive thoughts - unwanted thoughts that pop into one's mind without warning, at any time. They're often repetitive and can be disturbing or distressing.

Obsessions - intrusive thoughts that are hard to manage, get stuck in one's head and have a negative impact on daily life.

Compulsions - repetitive things one feels they have to do (mentally or physically) in order to reduce distress and anxiety caused by obsessions (to make things feel right again). One might know that it doesn't make sense to carry out a compulsion, but is unable to resist doing it.

I think the first step is being patient and not judging each other.

The way Ghost feels during and after a meltdown is complete loss of control, accompanied by shame. That's why SH is so easy to fall back to. It re-establishes some sense of control, which can be both a relief and a punishment at the same time.

Similarly with MacTavish, when his intrusive thoughts get the better of him and he starts spinning his wheels (getting stuck in compulsions and increasingly agitated) he knows he's both out of control and unable to stop it while probably being judged if witnessed.

It boils down to not being understood and feeling like everyone thinks you're crazy. Your self-esteem and sense of belonging take a massive hit. But having someone witness you at such a low point and support you through it, without thinking less of you afterwards, already makes a huge difference.

I don't think MacTavish knows he has OCD, he's probably only aware of the stereotype (obsession with being clean and organized) and thinks of his own symptoms as "a weakness" he needs to hide and overcome by sheer willpower to be able to keep his job and the respect of his colleagues.

Ghost isn't blind to it, he notices a lot of MacTavish's quirks and insecurities that others don't. He takes them seriously, wants to understand and help.

Part of MacTavish's depression is connected to his OCD - it makes him very anxious and tired. If anything goes wrong his depressed mind will find a way to blame himself and his compulsions get worse in response to his new intrusive thoughts/obsessions. Anything can become an obsession and the excessive misery caused by it makes him feel even more depressed. And on it goes.

At first Ghost falls into the trap of wanting to help and relieve MacTavish of some of his distress by accommodating one or more of his compulsions - it seems to make him feel better. However the more you give into compulsions, the stronger they get and end up making the symptoms worse in the long run.

The key to truly support MacTavish is to help him resist his compulsions. Ghost learns firsthand that endorsing the behaviors does more harm than good, including giving reassurance, which is a common symptom of OCD (and the most heartbreaking for both parties. It feels like a rejection to MacTavish and Ghost feels so mean for doing it, but it is for MacTavish's own good).

You can read more about it here: If You Love Someone With OCD, You May Need to Stop Reassuring Them That Everything Is OK

Of course Ghost can still validate his feelings, recognizing how upset it makes MacTavish and remind him to be patient and compassionate with himself while also staying consistent in his encouragement to keep resisting. Instead of trying to make the distress go away, Ghost helps him to accept it and ride it out together. Sometimes while in the thick of it they resort to distraction (doing something else to take his mind off it, which isn't exactly the best go-to coping skill) and physical affection (for emotional support). During a crisis situation Ghost will usually fold and let him give into a compulsion, he still has to learn how to deal with those.

Another thing that helps MacTavish a lot is when Ghost starts telling him about some of his own intrusive thoughts (everyone can have them). It makes him feel less alone/more normal, helps him open up more about his worries and reaffirms his belief that Ghost doesn't think he's crazy or a bad person. Remember, he doesn't know he has OCD yet.

I'm not sure Ghost would know or even suspect he has Autism either, autistic afab kids don't fit the "typical" stereotype and are often overlooked. He probably got called weird and off-putting his entire life, as well as being bullied without even realizing it. He only knows he isn't like the others and prefers to be alone because everyone understands the world and communication in a way he just doesn't.

He embraces his weirdness instead of hiding it, doesn't care if people think his mask is corny or that they should keep their distance from a freak like him. He's tired of not being understood, so he isolates himself and doesn't try to change anyone's mind anymore.

Nobody really gets him until MacTavish. He tends to leave a negative first impression; being perceived as rude, aggressive and disrespectful because of missed social cues. His meltdowns are mistaken for childish tantrums or manipulation. MacTavish can tell he's definitely odd, but he appreciates Ghost's straightforwardness and blunt honesty instead of being offended by it. Ghost responds well to MacTavish because he needs very clear and direct communication without it being condescending and patronizing, which MacTavish is naturally very good at. No mind games, no reading between the lines.

It's also why Ghost doesn't mind taking his mask off in front of him, not only does he trust MacTavish enough to be vulnerable, but he doesn't fear being off-putting or having his facial expressions (or lack thereof) misunderstood. They are similar in that regard, MacTavish has resting angry face and is often mistaken as aggressive, intimidating or confrontational because of it. Ghost sees there's a much more sensitive and thoughtful man underneath the hard exterior.

MacTavish doesn't have much experience with meltdowns, but can tell Ghost isn't escalating on purpose. It starts with Ghost showing signs of anxiety - pacing, rocking or becoming very still and quiet. He tries to calm himself down by fidgeting/stimming, bouncing his leg, grinding his teeth or biting at his lip. Sometimes he will ask repetitive questions, seeking reassurance, or become increasingly nonverbal. He is easily frustrated and has difficulty communicating or expressing himself clearly.

Meltdowns can be triggered by many things at once, a mix of distress intolerance, emotional regulation issues and sensory overloads. Meaning lack of sleep, stress, too many unexpressed emotions, change in routine/big life changes, too much noise, being touched too much, bright lights (that's why he wears sunglasses), too much smell, not getting enough air, ect. It can be completely overwhelming.

MacTavish responds by staying calm and quiet, not talking over Ghost and moving slowly. Any additional stimulus makes the overload worse. He gives Ghost space, doesn't touch him without permission and never punishes him for "losing it" during his meltdown or afterwards. He gets Ghost into a safe, quiet room or place until it's over. Things that help Ghost calm down is silence, a cold compress on his forehead, noise canceling headphones, laying down with the lights out and MacTavish's entire weight laid on top of him or something cold to drink.

After meltdowns Ghost feels exhausted and either needs some time alone to recharge or becomes very clingy for a while. He often doesn't remember what exactly happened and is very self-critical, but MacTavish won't allow him to be ashamed of himself or engage in his typical SH behavior, opting for calming affection and distraction instead.

If Ghost's urge to SH is coming from a place of anger they tear paper in little pieces together, go for a run or exercise. If it's from sadness they hold each other, listen to music, let MacTavish massage him or get out into nature. If it's from feeling numb, he's allowed to flick an elastic band on his wrists or hold ice cubes.

To prevent a meltdown or SH the trigger needs to be recognized early enough to be either removed in time or given a coping strategy. They develop a code sign for Ghost to use when he feels unstable, so MacTavish can help him regulate or get him away to somewhere quiet where they can properly communicate. The more Ghost trusts him, the easier it is for Ghost to communicate and disclose his distress. When Ghost becomes nonverbal they either write or speak in sign language to navigate the situation.

After leaving the military they struggle more with their relationship and gain a deeper understanding of each other by finally getting diagnosed. They end up going to therapy together where they learn how to properly manage MacTavish's compulsions and get him treatment for depression. They develop relationship strategies and identify Ghost's meltdown and SH triggers as well.

I think this is a good place to stop for now. Perhaps one day I'll get into my DID Ghost headcanon/ideas, but my fingers hurt from typing so it will have to wait lmao

This is a continuation from a previous post

[bg-brainrot]

Hugs for a Vampire (Astarion x GN!Reader) - Chapter 18: At Withers' Party

Bonus Hug - Chapter 18: At Withers' Party

Each chapter can be read as a standalone hug.

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader (Rogue!Tav)

Genre: Fluffy, Filling in Canon

Rating: Teen

Tags: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, POV Second Person, post-game, epilogue, cw: alcohol, jealousy

WC: 2.1k words, 18/18 chapters

Summary: An epilogue hug! Astarion sees Rogue!Tav giving out hugs and wants one of his own.

Author's Note: This was not part of the original fic, added on after the epilogue was released, however I chose to put my own spin on the epilogue hug.

Finally, Whether you read this fic AO3, on Tumblr, or a combo of both, thanks so much for joining the hugfest! I love this vampire man, and may he have many, many more hugs <3

Ao3 | [Hug17] | Hugs for a Vampire Masterlist

It’s been six months since your victory at Baldur’s Gate.

Six months of traveling through the Underdark with Astarion, establishing a base for the vampire spawn, and figuring out your next steps together. It was perilous and difficult work, but you wouldn’t change a single thing. 

You have missed your former companions dearly though, so when you received the invitation from Withers for a celebration, the smile that broke across your face could blind a celestial. I wouldn’t miss this for anything – not even a fresh new apocalypse, you wrote back.

So that’s how you and Astarion have found yourselves above ground once again, the familiar wilderness of the Sword Coast a welcome sight, the distinguished company an even more welcome one.

Everyone seems to be doing quite well, despite how you all left each other. Lae’zel is only able to visit through a projection, and the reprieve is rather temporary for a few of your companions– namely Wyll and Karlach– However, it’s a rare opportunity and you’re incredibly grateful to have it.

The elation must be obvious on your face, as Astarion takes one look at you and laughs. His sing-song little giggle never fails to bring a smile to your face, and right now your face is liable to crack open. “Go on, dear,” he says, sensing the eager tension in your body. “Mingle! If you need me, I shall be near the wine.”

“You can mingle too, you know,” you say, though you’ve already begun to walk away.

“Invite me again after a few bottles,” he responds. You know he loves them all in his own way, but he also finds them to be a bit too much at times. Ever the stray cat, he’ll find his way to them when he’s ready, at least you hope. So you nod to him in agreement and wander off to chat with your dearest friends.

You’re so excited to see them all again that you’re practically jogging to meet them. 

Shadowheart is the first. When you get a good look at her, you see a peace in her face that you haven’t seen in any of the months you’ve known her. Something about it brings you relief. You knew they would each find their happiness without you, but seeing it firsthand is something else. Perhaps it’s because she’s looking so much more herself than ever, but before long you find yourself asking, “Could I have a hug?” The hug is caring and welcoming and everything you knew Shadowheart has always been.

Next you make your way to Karlach. She’s alive and well, which is ten times better than the last time you saw her, and you just might cry from the sight. She tells you about Avernus and about the possibility to fix her heart and you just might cry from that as well. Again, you can’t resist, especially knowing she’s been fighting for her life for six months. “Could I have a hug?” The hug is warm and strong, just like the woman in your arms.

After that, you make your way to Wyll. He’s doing rather well in Avernus with Karlach, and, when he mentions that he’s planning to ensure Karlach finds a solution to her heart, a few tears well in your eyes. Wyll is among the best of mortal and immortal men, and you’re glad he went with Karlach when you couldn’t. The grateful feeling is more than you can put into words, so you ask, “Could I have a hug?” The hug is strong and bracing and an absolute testament to Wyll’s enduring friendship.

You find your way to Lae’zel. After learning of her diligent efforts to save her people from Vlaakith, you can’t help but be awestruck by how much she’s changed. You’re inspired by her ability to learn to fight with words and stunned by how much she truly misses you. Even though she’s not there, you can’t help yourself, “Could I have a hug?” She simply clicks her tongue at you and calls you an idiot, somehow melting your heart all the same.

Eventually, you find Gale, tucked away with the tressym Tara. He’s a teacher and no longer at risk of exploding – you can’t help laughing at that, remembering the various times he almost blew you all up without the help of an all-powerful orb. Something about the way he speaks of his new role and invites you to visit, either to teach or just to spend time, makes you realize that this is what a happy wizard looks like. You love it and ask, “Could I have a hug?” The hug is all-encompassing and lengthy, much like one of Gale’s lessons in magic.

Finally, you find Halsin, dancing the night away. When you learn more about his endeavors, you find that he’s reestablishing the settlement at Reithwin, reconnecting the land to its people. He mentions that Thaniel and Oliver are no longer lonely and that the children of the settlement bring him a fulfillment he never thought possible. After regaling him of an exaggerated tale of your and Astarion’s adventures, you assure him that the two of you will visit soon to tell more. “Could I have a hug?” The hug is surprisingly gentle and comforting, and you walk away feeling quite content.

You determine that you’ll need to ask the rest, even Withers, for hugs if they’ll all be this enjoyable. But before you do that, you decide to take a moment to yourself, to process everything.

That’s how you find your way to a quiet corner, head spinning with warm, fuzzy feelings and maybe a smidge too much wine. Just being here, surrounded by some of the best people you’ve ever had the privilege to encounter, fills you with a companionship you weren’t aware you’d been missing. Astarion fills you with so much love and happiness, but this– this is different.

As if summoned with your thoughts, the vampire walks toward you, wine glass in hand. "Are you done mingling?" Sensing your mind is elsewhere, he leans closer, inspecting your glassy, faraway gaze. His hand lands on the small of your back, jolting your attention back to the present and you turn to look at him. His eyes sparkle at you with radiant joy and a hint of something else. Could that be annoyance?

You decide to focus on the joy. "Yes, I think I've managed to get good conversations out of everyone. Did you know Gale wants me to go teach at Waterdeep?" Your voice sounds incredulous, after all, you warned him: once a rogue, always a rogue. Unless he wants his students to learn how to stab more efficiently, he would do best to seek someone else.

Astarion clearly agrees, making an exaggerated, aghast expression. "You? A teacher?" He shudders in fake-fear. "My love, I pity the poor students who would be subjected to your methods."

“Hey,” you say, shooting him a glare. “I thought you were supposed to be the supportive one!”

He laughs and shakes his head. “I can only support so much, my dear.” Then he takes a long look at you, noticing how unfocused your eyes are, the flush to your face. “And from the looks of it, I may need to support your entire body before the night is over.”

You only grin at him and say, “What did I do to deserve such a caring man?”

“Yes, yes,” he says, rubbing gentle circles along your back. “Likely whatever you did to deserve the affections of every adventurer this side of the Chionthar.” His tone is joking, but the dark look on his face says otherwise.

Pushing aside your own amusement, you pull his hand from your back and lean into him. “Okay, what's the matter, love?”

“Oh nothing. I just thought my jealous days were behind me.” He sounds sullen, and you note a sad tilt to his eyebrows.

Jealous days? You groan, recalling his concern over the fiery barbarian. “Love, really truly, if I were leaving you for Karlach, I would have gone to Avernus months ago.”

He waves his wine glass at you dismissively. “I know that, and I don’t mean Karlach, contrary to all evidence thus far.” Suddenly avoiding your gaze, he takes a sip of wine and changes the subject. “No matter, let’s go ask Withers where he found this vintage.” 

“No, no, no,” you say, tugging him back to you before he can walk off. After another six months together, getting used to each other’s idiosyncrasies outside of mortal peril (mostly out of mortal peril), you knew the escape was only a ruse. He wants to talk, but he seems too embarrassed to begin. “You’re allowed to be jealous, Astarion. But I can’t help you if you don’t tell me why.”

Astarion stops in his tracks, looking back at you with a pair of vulnerable red eyes. “Do you promise not to laugh?”

You take a beat to debate this, but ultimately honesty wins over and you shake your head. “I wish I could, but I do promise to try my best?”

A sigh escapes him, and you’re graced with a soft, reluctant smile. “Typical. You were truthful though, so I shall be too. I was rather jealous of…” He wipes a hand over his face dramatically. “I was jealous that you’ve gone and hugged everyone else. Gods, I sound like a child.”

It’s a good thing you only promised to try your best because an involuntary huff leaves your lips, which you'd firmly pressed together in preparation. "That is…" you gasp out.

"Idiotic? Pathetic?" Astarion supplies.

"Rather adorable actually," you say, finally allowing a snort out. “How do you always manage to be both adorable and sexy?”

You swear you can see the tips of his ears color pink, but that may just be the firelight or your own tipsy vision. He only says, “I’m quite talented.”

“Would a hug help you feel better?”

Astarion looks at you, eyes darting between yours. You can see a bit of hesitation in them, and you’re wondering why when he says, “Only if it’s not a pity hug.”

“Never,” you say, solemnly. “You know I only give hugs I mean.”

He clicks his tongue, annoyed again. He places his wine glass down on the ground with a flourish, as if preparing himself. “Yes, exactly. Which is why I’ve gone and become jealous. This is all your fault and I expect you to remedy it.”

You nod, accepting this burden with ease. “In that case… Could I hug you?” Astarion waves his hand at you as if to say, get on with it already, and you dive right in. 

The hug is loving, it’s understanding and supportive. It warms you, it cools you, and it makes you want to tackle this man to the ground in an aggressive affection– a feeling you only barely temper after a few glasses of wine. After experiencing so many hugs tonight, you find that the hug is so very perfectly him.

No, not just him. It’s the type of hug that the both of you make together. And it’s the hug you want to experience again and again for the rest of your life.

When you finally pull away from him, Astarion is smiling once more, jealousy evidently placated. “Well now, I have you every night, don’t I? Go on then, continue to bless them with your presence. I’ll be here when you’re ready. I’ll always be here, my love.”

You shake your head at him. “A lovely sentiment, of course, but you’re done hiding. Come on.”

“What?” he asks, brows furrowing as he tilts away from you.

“I said, you’re done hiding. No more shadows, they all keep asking about you and I’d rather you answer them yourself,” you say, all but dragging him back to the party now. “They miss you too, you know.”

“Darling, please. What if they ask me for a hug?” Astarion looks truly appalled at the thought.

You laugh, imagining him reacting like a cat forced into a bathtub. “You can say no, of course. But I promise not to get too jealous if you do.”

“What will it take for you to forget I ever said that?” he says, laughing and allowing himself to be dragged.

You quickly swipe his wine glass back up off the ground as you pull him along, and take a long drink before returning it to him. You only say, “At least two more bottles, though I suppose that depends on how wild Withers likes his parties.”

Hand-in-hand, you both walk off to enjoy the rest of the celebration. The night is young, the wine is flowing, and there are still many more hugs to be shared.

[jo-harrington]

Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction - Chapter 4: Reader Suggestions

Previous Chapter: Lore Dump

Summary: Things start to get a little strange when The Writer hits the dreaded Writer's Block and looks for some inspiration.

Word Count: 4.9k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader

Warnings/Themes: No-Upside-Down AU, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Chaos, SMUT?, Cockblocking?, Isekai, Mentions of FOI-compliant events and characters, Various References to Movies and Television, Probably a little more lore (just assume that theres gonna be bits of lore everywhere), Criticism of Fanfiction, Analysis of Fanfiction/Fandom, Meta Fiction

Note: This is more of a "filler episode" to establish some of the rules of Eddie and Reader's predicament than anything specifically plot-driven, until the end. You could say that I myself felt a little bit of Writer's Block...not necessarily because I couldn't get anything onto a page but that it wasn't happening for this story in particular. (Coincidental that it happened at this specific chapter. Almost like I planned it that way. Maybe I did.)

So please forgive me if anything feels a little rusty; I'm getting back on this bicycle after a few months of letting it sit in the garage. But I'm happy I get to take it for a spin again. We're in it for the Tour de France now lads! Or we die trying.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

You know, in a previous life, if someone told you that you'd be laughing in the face of a bloodthirsty, murderous vampire, you would probably think it was impossible.

That was, unfortunately, the reality you lived in right now.

Red, veiny, monstrous eyes. Sharp fangs. Hissing and roaring.

And you just snickering like an idiot with a death wish.

Probably because you knew it wasn't actually a death wish.

Your arrival in Mystic Falls was an interesting and exciting one. Mainly because of how normal it was.

It was a small town and everyone seemed friendly enough and you were truly ready for it to be a break in the action. Despite it being another so-called "modern" or "futuristic" setting.

Futuristic to you, at least. Still a bit stuck in your 1985 mindset, 2009 seemed beyond your imagination. More than the 90s had been, or 2004. Still not as bad as when one of the Writers shoved you onto the USS Enterprise so you could woo Bones McCoy. And certainly not 100 Trillion years in the future, at the end of the Universe with The Doctor.

Still, you were happy for a change of pace. So you chugged into town with your trusty Beetle like you usually did, until you made it to the large house on Maple Street that was the new residence of your supposed "college best friend," Jenna Sommers.

You liked Jenna, actually. She was sweet and funny and hated the hoity-toity elites of the town's Founding Families. She dragged you to all the Historical Society events just to have an ally, and those nights were always a hoot. You'd gossip about the mayor's affair with so-and-so, drink free booze til you saw double, and stuff your tiny handbags with their expensive hors d'oeuvres.

After years of traveling through various universes, and over analyzing your friendships back in Port Geneva, she was a breath of fresh air and someone you truly cherished.

She also set you up with her boyfriend's best frenemy--her words, not yours--Damon Salvatore.

And he seemed fine.

Great, actually.

A normal, sarcastically funny, suave, handsome sort of guy who took you out a few times and always behaved like a gentleman, and kissed better than anyone you'd ever kissed before.

Until this very moment, where the penny dropped, and he roared in your face with his fangs.

And you just laughed in his.

Because of course he was a vampire.

Of course you couldn't have a nice, normal thing.

Once.

Ever.

December 1986

If Eddie thought his life had been out of control before, it was safe to say that the moment he realized that it was being controlled by some Writer in another universe, it only got worse.

For a few days, there had been a break in the madness.

Well, there were some things that still fucked with Eddie's head.

Some of the posters on his walls were for bands he didn't like, his collection of exclusively DC comics became an array of Marvel titles, and his stash of porn...needless to say it was full of shit he'd never even thought about before.

He still jerked off to it, though. What else was he gonna do? Not jerk off?

But there were no out-of-body feelings, no wacky spectacles in class, no unexpected emergencies. The trailer even stayed clean for a whole week; it was a godsend.

"Does that mean it's all over?" Eddie asked when you'd arrived at his trailer for a night in.

"Unfortunately not," you sighed. "I don't know the ins and outs of it. Sometimes the story proceeds as planned. Sometimes you get long stretches of time where nothing happens. You've heard of Writer's Block? Maybe they're having trouble trying to figure out what's next for us."

"Why don't they just give up?" he huffed. "Leave us alone."

"Would you give up if you were trying to figure out some complicated plot for Hellfire?"

"Yeah, but that's different. It's just DnD. These are our lives that this asshole is playing with."

"And what if, somewhere, Agrithor the Invincible is real and getting mad because Jeff rolled a Nat 1 on a medicine check and now he has dysentery."

Eddie didn't know if he was cranky because you were right, or a little more in love with you because you had been listening to him rant about Hellfire.

"It's a learning curve," you continued. "It gets weird when you start to think of your life like a story someone is writing, waiting for the next thing to happen. Trust me. I learned that the hard way."

"So what should I do? Just go with the flow?"

"You need to, otherwise you start second guessing what's real and what isn't with everything."

"Hmmm..." He tilted his head from side to side considering your words. What's real and what isn't. A loaded statement in this predicament the two of you found yourselves in.

"So let's just enjoy our night in," you said with finality. "What's the plan? Fraggle Rock and fooling around?" You glanced around him to the setup on the coffee table. VHS tapes and cans of soda and a bowl of popcorn.

Eddie felt his cheeks getting hot with embarrassment.

"Speaking of what's real...I, uh, thought it might be fun for us to watch a few episodes of Port Geneva?"

You looked at him like he'd grown a second head; your brows raised in question, mouth dropping open in shock.

"I just...have some questions about things that didn't really make sense," he was quick to explain. "Continuity errors. Who better to ask than someone who was there?"

It took a second, but you broke down into laughter and you threw your hands up in defeat.

"You know what, as long as you order us pizza too, fuck it. Fine! Let's see what all the commotion is about."

That had been the last truly fun night for a little while--

His tapes were paused more than they played because you kept getting up to rant about scenes you disagreed with, or stories that the producers of the show simply got wrong, or key scenes that had been cut altogether.

Every time you'd get up and shout and talk with your hands and point at him to get him to understand...he loved you more and more...

--and Eddie felt bad for not taking advantage of the normalcy for as long as he could.

Because things started getting weird.

First Christmas had come, and it had been a joy.

Munson Christmases were simple affairs. More of a day for hearty food and relaxation than for any traditions or celebrations. You'd of course joined in, along with Granny Ecker, who lamented over Ronnie not being able to come home for the holiday.

Both Granny and Wayne had conspired to get you and Eddie under the mistletoe though, and had ooh'd and ahh'd when your lips met several times over the course of the night.

But Eddie looked forward to New Year's a little more than Christmas; he and the guys typically shot fireworks at the quarry and TP'd all of the jocks' houses in the middle of the night. You'd had similar New Years celebrations with your friends back in Port Geneva, so he figured it would be a treat for you to join them.

Except New Year's Eve never came.

On what was supposed to be the 31st, Eddie slept in, anticipating he'd be up all night with you and the guys. He got his backpack ready with supplies and walked out of his bedroom, only to find Wayne in the kitchen cooking.

"Did we have plans I forgot about?" he asked his uncle.

Wayne crossed his arms over his chest and frowned at him.

"You getting sick, kid?" he asked. "Don't know how you could forget about Christmas."

Christmas?!

"But it's," Eddie scoffed, "it's New Years' Eve."

Wayne opened his mouth to respond when there was a knock at the door, and after a beat, you walked in with several grocery bags in hand.

"Hey guys," you greeted cheerfully. "Merry Christmas!"

Wayne repeated the sentiment and motioned for Eddie to go and help you.

"M-Merry, uh, Christmas sweetheart," he said with heavy sarcasm as he reached your side. You shot Eddie a very pointed stare. "What's going on?"

"Just go with the flow," you muttered to him, leaving no time for explanation before you and Wayne started chatting.

So that's exactly what he did.

And truly, there wasn't anything wrong about having a second Christmas.

You'd baked cookies and he'd helped you decorate them; you kissed icing off the tip of his nose and then he'd serenaded you and Wayne with carols on his guitar while It's a Wonderful Life played in the background. He honestly had so much fun, all of his complaints and questions got put to the wayside

It was the fact that the following day brought yet another Christmas.

"Alright," he demanded when you'd arrived to make popcorn garlands with him. "What the hell is going on?"

"A time loop." You explained. "A request loop, actually. The Writer must have asked for Holiday-themed requests from their readers to get themselves out of their slump. Not the first time I've been through this."

"And everyone chose Christmas?" he scoffed. "Damn, these people are boring. Halloween is the best holiday, obviously!"

"Obviously," you laughed.

"Or April Fool's Day!"

"It must be December in their world too." You cupped his face in your hands. "Listen, request loops suck and they're boring. But trust me, you got lucky that it's just holidays. It could be worse."

So of course it got worse.

Because Eddie Munson could never get so lucky as fate taking it easy on him.

The requests didn't stop with Holidays--although, it had been a nauseating gauntlet of Christmases and Thanksgivings, with one Valentine's Day and a 4th of July thrown in for good measure--they extended to other things too.

Eddie had woken up one morning with the word "faucet" stuck in his head.

No rhyme or reason.

Just "faucet."

He suspected that The Writer had something to do with it, especially as he felt a strange anticipation to interject the word into conversation at some point in the day. Like he was compelled to say it in every sentence and every conversation, but none of them felt right.

Only when Dave had gone to get a drink from the water fountain and had stuck his entire mouth on the spigot did Eddie get any relief.

"Fuck Dave, you don't know how many germs are on that faucet?" he practically gasped as the weight on his chest and his mind finally alleviated.

It happened again a few days later. An insatiable need to talk about "root beer floats" all throughout the day, until the evening when he picked you up for a date.

It had been a great date, sure, but he hated root beer.

Finally, it was the word "alluring." Not one that was usually a part of his vocabulary, but this Writer seemed to want to teach Eddie a lesson by using some fancy word.

This time, the key word was said to you during a steamy make out session on your couch. Eddie's lips traveled down the column of your throat, sucking at your pulse, and he told you how alluring you were. Your moan was delicious, and no matter how true the statement was or how much he wanted to continue, he simply couldn't find the desire to.

The moment felt tainted. All of them did. No matter how funny or sweet or hot they were; the knowledge that he was just a puppet on the Writer's strings was a sour feeling and he just couldn't shake it.

You held him in your arms as he lamented about the lack of control he felt.

"I'm sorry," you whispered into his hair as you rubbed soothing circles over his back and shoulders. "I wish I could make it better. I wish I could make it all go away."

Eddie was just so overcome with emotions and feeling so unlike himself that he asked, "what if you could?"

You paused your movements and strained to look at him, confused.

"What...what do you mean?"

"I don't..." He closed his eyes and sighed. "I don't know what I mean."

Yes he did.

The thoughts had begun to form the moment the words exited his mouth, until they were a tempest swirling in his mind.

"Ok," you simply dismissed, and then continued your attentions.

"Actually," he couldn't stop himself then. He pushed himself away from you and stared directly into your eyes. "I...this all started because you came to Hawkins. So maybe...maybe if you tried to leave."

He immediately saw the heartbreak in your eyes, and he knew he fucked up.

"Do you want me to leave?" you questioned softly.

Everything inside of him screamed no. Of course he didn't want you to leave. In fact, he wanted the opposite of that; he wanted you to stay with him forever. He'd been willing to sell his soul to the devil just for the chance to have you, have someone who understood him the way you did.

He was just...so...tired.

So tired in that moment, he could only focus on his own desperation. His own feelings. He hadn't even thought to consider yours.

"I just...have you ever tried to leave?" he wondered. "You said you get in your car and you come to all of these worlds; that's how you travel into these stories. Have you ever tried to get back into your car and leave? Back to Port Geneva?"

"I don't," you shook your head rapidly, hands held up in front of your face as though you were trying to manifest a physical version of the idea just so you could conceptualize it. "I don't even know how I could. Or where I would go? How to get there?"

"You said that there were times when you got to go back."

"But I'd just end up there," you explained. "I've never decided on my own that it was time to go. I don't have a map."

"Maybe that'd be the end of it all," Eddie grabbed your hands in his. "That's the key to breaking the cycle. If you decided that you wanted to leave, if you tried to go home, the Writer would be compelled to give up and our lives could both go back to normal."

Your eyes darted between his, and you calmly repeated the question, "Eddie do you want me to leave?"

He hesitated so you continued.

"You said we were in this together. You said you'd help keep me grounded and I would do the same for you." You took a deep breath and repeated yourself for a third time. "Do you want me to leave?"

It was an eternity of waiting before he finally answered.

"No, of course not." You pulled your gaze away from his, your face crumpling in a way that made his heart ache. "I just figured...it was just an idea. And it couldn't hurt to try."

He tried to talk, tried to explain himself, and went on rambling for minutes on end. He even stood up and started pacing, hands running through his hair anxiously.

He cursed the Writer for doing this to you, cursed the Writer's Block for putting the two of you in this kind of a position in the first place. Cursed the Gods and Devils for making such an inescapable Hell in the first place.

He hoped the more he talked the more you'd see his frustration, his side of things.

Or at the very least, you'd try to fight him. Yell at him. Tell him he was wrong.

But you just nodded along, refusing to look at him.

It's a learning curve, you'd told him.

Because you'd been through this a million times before, lived this nightmarish life that he was now getting to experience for the first time. Shit, you'd even loved people before you'd come here and started having feelings for him.

Loved and lost and left. Whether you wanted to or not.

He thought he'd understood that. You had thought that he thought he'd understood.

But maybe he didn't. If he thought that getting you to go was the magic solution.

He realized, in that second that he stared at you and you stared at the floor, that this life wasn't the only learning curve for him.

And he wasn't the only one with something to learn either.

You both needed to adapt.

It's a learning curve.

He decided, with a soft kiss to the side of your head and a "see you later sweetheart," that it was better to leave and give you both the space to think and adapt, instead of just standing there digging himself into a deeper hole.

It would get better.

It had to.

But who knew what tomorrow would bring?

He was on a stage playing for a crowd of thousands.

It wasn't the biggest venue they played but it was the only sold out show on the tour.

They were all singing along with him, cheering. His friends, his bandmates, surrounding him and supporting him.

The lights were blinding, he was sweating, and his fingers tapped against the fretboard rapidly until it felt like they would bleed.

He played the last few notes of the song and then threw his arm up in the air with a flourish, all to the backdrop of their cheers.

He saw his face on shirts in the crowd, saw his name, heard them chant his name.

"Eddie...Eddie...Eddie..."

He basked in the majesty of it all, so far from his meek beginnings, so far from Hawkins. If he really thought about it, he didn't even feel like himself anymore. He felt like more.

It felt great.

It felt powerful.

And it was everything he ever wanted.

He pulled the earpiece from his ear and spoke into the microphone as Dave and Jeff threw picks into the crowd.

"Thank you guys...you've been great." He laughed as they cheered for him again. "Port Geneva is one of our favorite places to play. It feels like a little bit of home away from home. The best shows, the best crowds. The best food. Anyone else going to Bonnie's after the show?"

There was a roar of applause again.

"Maybe we'll see you there. It's the main reason we keep coming back here. I always get the Number 7 on Rosemary Bread."

There was a lone boo from the pit; he pulled the mike from the stand and took a few steps to the edge of the stage, eyeing the people for the source of said boo.

There was a couple; a handsome, conventional-looking guy with very neatly combed hair, who wore a flannel over a tee from their first tour. And a girl, pretty--main character pretty--with a hand-written poster in her hands...scolding her boyfriend under her breath.

Bingo.

"We don't like hecklers at our show but if you have a better order than mine I think you need to share it with the class," Eddie grinned at them. There was something familiar about the guy...and the girl...he just couldn't place where he'd seen them before. He shook off the feeling. "Come on, I won't bite."

"If you're not getting the Bonnie Special," the guy shouted up at him, "then you're not doing it right."

The crowd around them boo'd but Eddie stopped them.

"No, no," he chuckled. "I like a guy who knows what he wants. Very metal of you man. What's your name?"

"Patrick."

"Nice to meet you Patrick. I'm Eddie." The crowd laughed. "But seriously no Rosemary bread? That's ok. More for me."

He put the earpiece back in and turned back to the guys, ready to do what he did best: keep playing.

---

Once the show was over, he and the guys indeed made a stop at Bonnie's.

The little sandwich shop was overrun with fans wanting to meet them. He shook hands and signed autographs, as people snapped pictures of them at the counter, ordering a veritable feast to-go.

Then when they got their food and Eddie's hunger got to be too great for him to wait anymore, they were sped back to their hotel.

He wished his bandmates and their manager a goodnight before ducking into his room and bolting the door behind him. He took a few steps in and flipped the light switch on.

And there, sprawled out on the bed, was a different sort of feast.

The true object of Eddie's hunger: you.

You in perfectly paired, borderline scandalous lingerie, hair and makeup impeccable, staring at him with a mirroring hunger in your eyes.

"Hey rockstar," you greeted with a predatory grin. "Kept me waiting long enough."

"Wouldn't you believe it," he smirked at you and gestured to the takeout bag in his hand. "They were out of Rosemary bread."

"That's what happens when you shout your order to a crowd of your biggest fans."

"Funny I didn't see you there."

"How else would I know that you told them your sandwich order?" you teased.

"Didn't hear you either."

"I'll scream your name tonight," you batted your lashes at him. "You'll make sure of that, big boy."

Oh yeah, it was always a boost to his ego when he got you to sing for him, scream for him.

He tossed the bag onto the dresser--for later--and then closed the distance so he could devour you.

His lips went straight for your collarbone, hands exploring your curves, eager to make you squeal; meanwhile, you made quick work of his clothes. His belt was gone instantaneously with a sharp snap, your fingers made quick work of the fly of his jeans, then you reached up to shove his jacket from his shoulders.

God, he'd been fantasizing about you for years--knew your body better than he knew his thanks to countless hours wasted on the tapes from the adult section of Family Video--and it had been a surprise to see your familiar face in the pit at that very first show in Port Geneva.

Or maybe a gift from whatever god or devil was out there.

He'd sought you out after the show and it had been instant chemistry. You both couldn't stop fawning over one another, even though it might've been a little bit more awkward on your part. But you certainly weren't shy about it.

"The rockstar and the porn star," you joked as you split that infamous Number 7 at Bonnie's after your first night together. "A real power couple."

But now it was a handful of years later, and that's exactly what you were. Names forever entwined together in gossip magazines and on each others lips--not to mention the lips of every man and woman who wanted to fuck both of you, even though that likelihood was a big fat zero.

Yeah the sex was great, but it was more than that.

It was knowing one another. Caring for one another. Especially when you were both in an industry where there was little-to-none of either of those things at all.

You'd known for a while; Eddie had found out the hard way.

That's what kept him coming back to you, coming back to a small town with a venue barely-big-enough for the band's rising fame.

Because it was your home, and you were Eddie's.

Home.

It was exactly what he thought as you pushed your panties aside and he sunk into you, wet and waiting and oh-so-deliciously tight.

"Fuck," he swore against your mouth, "I missed you."

"M-missed you too," you panted right back, squirming beneath him, waiting for him to move.

Of course, Eddie was an asshole and let you wait. Let you suffer. Shit he let himself suffer, just to savor being this close with you.

He knew once he got started, he wouldn't stop until it was over.

So he'd hold out for that one last little bit, because he knew before long, he'd be leaving home behind once again.

He wasn't a man known for patience though, and before long he began to move.

He bucked into you, kissed you, squeezed you, lavished you with attention until you were one.

It was a crescendo of feelings when he got to have you like this, his lips spilling promises before he spilled himself inside you.

I missed you.

I want you.

I need you.

I love yo--

Eddie woke up with a gasp, heart racing and a wet spot growing in his boxers.

There was heavy pounding at the side door, someone slamming thier fist against it over and over again.

"Shit," he cursed. "Shit, shit, shit."

He jumped out of bed, and looked down at himself, wincing at the mixture of his embarrassment, his cum-full underwear and his rapidly-softening cock.

"Eddie, it's me," you called through the door and he froze in panic. "I know you just had a wet dream. Can you open up? It's cold out here."

How the hell did you know that?

He waddled out of his room and to the adjacent door and then let you in. You--coat thrown over your pajamas, feet in fuzzy slippers--pushed past him and headed straight for the kitchen.

"We need to talk!" You told him urgently.

"Uh," he called after you. "Can I, uh..." He gestured down at himself.

You pivoted on your heel, and then glanced from his face, down to his crotch.

Your face cycled through an array of warring emotions before it settled on bashfulness.

"Sure," you squeaked. "I'll...uh...make coffee."

Eddie locked himself in the bathroom for several minutes, listening to you bang around in the kitchen as he cleaned himself up and changed.

By the time he walked out, you were sitting at the little table, biting your nails, as two mugs sat in front of you invitingly.

"How did you know about my dream?" he asked immediately as he fell into the seat opposite you.

"Because I had one too," you said in an obvious tone.

He immediately felt his cheeks get hot, and he grabbed the steaming cup of coffee to take a sip, the scalding liquid not nearly as bad as the feelings that burned through him.

"I know...things weren't great last night," you stared once his attention was back on you, "but if shit like that's going to happen--"

"And what exactly was that?"

"That was our Writer finding their inspiration again," you explained. "Probably from one of those pesky requests. For an alternate universe. We can't exactly be...in other places. Yeah sometimes it happens, but when there's already an established world like this one...where I'm here in Hawkins...alternate universes happen in dreams."

"And are they always..." He waved his hand as he looked for the word.

"Pornographic?" The tension between you broke and two of you laughed, all worry melting instantly. "No...not always. But, uh, I guess it doesn't exactly bode well if our Writer found their inspiration for us in that AU."

Eddie swallowed hard and felt his face heat up again, for a different reason this time.

"It wasn't that bad," he muttered and you shook your head at him with a fond chuckle.

"No," you replied. "It wasn't. But, uh, I was kind of hoping you wouldn't see me naked without...I don't know, me being the one to show you."

The realization hit him too, that all of that...was all of that...was that all against both of your wills?

Sort of?

Kind of?

"It's ok," you assured him, seeing the conflict taking over his features. "I, uh...it happens a lot differently for us if either of us didn't actually want to have sex."

"Got it," he nodded, a little relieved that meant you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. But then he paused as he realized the implication...and what that meant for you in the past.

He was about to ask, to check and see if you were ok, but you quickly moved back to the original topic.

"If the Writer has found inspiration again," you began. "That means we need to be on the same page. We need to work together and support each other, because who knows what they have in store for us.

"There are a million types of stories out there. Daring adventures, fluffy romances, angsty heartbreaks. It's a bitch to deal with, honestly. We already know that this Writer wants us together, and they've already thrown wrenches into our relationship. With Steve...and Chrissy...plus the sheer unpredictability, if this dream was anything to go by...it's going to be difficult.

"So you need to be prepared," you said with a tone of finality. "We can't...you can't do what you did earlier. You've gotta keep your cool. There's no escaping this. For either of us. And you can't really fight it, but if you try to, there's definitely ways that it could make things worse for us. There's no way we can stop this until it's over. Until the story this Writer wants to tell is complete."

You reached across the table and covered Eddie's hands with your own.

"I know it's hard and I know it sucks for your world to be turned upside down," you told him gently. "But you need to hold it together. You need to listen to me, trust me. Otherwise there's no telling what might happen."

Your eyes were full of desperation, full of care, and as much as he wanted to question things--question everything--he knew now was not the time or the place.

So he assured you, without a hint of doubt or question in his voice, "I trust you."

Then he turned his hands so your fingers could twine together, and he squeezed.

"And don't worry," he smiled. "You can trust me too."

Next Chapter: Friends to Lovers Coming Soon

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[biscuitbox23]

Dead weight.

summary: you run into the woods to get away from the group, you were reaching the end of your life as you suffer from aplastic anemia, only to get stopped by Rick.

A/n: I’m not a medical expert, i have no familiarity with the field of medicine I am just an idiot who is a sucker for terribly made sad stories. This may be a very long opening to the actual climax so im sorry for that :( please do DM me for advice on how i can make my fanfictions better!

Warnings: inaccurate depictions of the illness, non-established relationship (rick and reader), mentions of death, angst, cursing. (Not much due to me being a minor.) somewhat bad grammar since English isn’t my second language.

words: 1.3K

It has been a while, well, a while since you had a good stock of medicine. You had been in an abandoned cabin a few months after the outbreak. During it, you got stuck in a pharmacy in Atlanta. The law was gone now, so you hoarded a ton of antibiotics, capsules, injections, and anything you could get your grubby hands on.

When Rick and Daryl saved you from a trio of men who were trying to take advantage of you, you joined them and did not stay inside forever, especially when blood stained the floors of your shelter. It was a mistake.

You wanted to stay with yourself, isolated from the horrors and sacrifices that the world has offered now. It was harder to find medication now that most stores were stripped clean. It was easier for you to catch minor fevers, and you tended to have more rest than the others in the group. The only reason you were there is because you knew how to survive.

In the woods, in the apocalypse, no problem. Whatever your dad knew your dad would teach you, he was an outdoor person and loved to forage different shrooms and plants. God knows what happened to him.

You grew closer to the group, helping them find food and clean water, scavenging what you can find in abandoned retail stores (even if it does not have much importance.)

Now you find yourself walking out of Alexandria by attempting to climb the steel borders to the outside of the wall, your head spinning as drowsiness has consumed you to your very core, yet you still have the urge to continue. Or else you are just dead weight. You had a few foot slips —you swear, Enid makes it look easy— but managed to get out. You can sense your muscles aching as if you did not even have the strength to pull yourself up despite climbing trees more than a million times when you were a teen. You needed to disappear 

from the people, the group. Rick.

Rick was a leader, for sure. He had all the correct morals and cunningness and looked up to him for it. You were no longer the person of any use to him and his group. You could not even defend yourself without stumbling down to the ground.

You were around when T-dog and Lori passed away. You 

remembered falling for Rick when you first saw him, only to discover he had a pregnant wife and a kid. It started like a rocky road. You were so used to the isolation that it took a lot of convincing to get you to come with them to the prison.

You took a liking to his daughter Judith. You loved babies. It was a surprise. You thought that you would never find a baby in this world again. Carl was the closest to you. You tell him stories about your life and would do the same, reminiscing about the world that used to be. He praised his father a lot and got a good idea of what Rick was like as a father. Hershel would check up on your health while Rick would stand beside the old sport as Hershel examines you.

Making your way into the woods, you stopped by a tree to take a breather. Your hands were on your knees as you stared down to the ground, crinkles of the leaves crushing on the bottom of your shoes. The night was cold and airy. The chill on the tip of your nose was evident as you took one more glance at the haven that shielded the real outside world from its inhabitants. The sour stench of rotting meat was not detectable and gave some fresh air — It is not like you cannot get fresh air in Alexandria. You want to be alone most of the time.

“thought I'd find you here." A voice called out, the voice echoing in your ears sounding familiar as the crunching of leaves has gotten closer and closer.

“fuck” you curse under your breath, “how did you find me?”

“Carl saw you tryin’ to climb the walls.”

“huh,” you playfully scoffed but was met with a chill and a cough, “thought I was being sneaky…”

“what're you doin’ out here?” Rick asks out of the blue, staring you up and down as you lean back into the tree.

“Rick," you sighed heavily, “go back.”

“I'm not goin’ back till you tell me what happened, y‘know that, don’t you?” Rick asked with a twinge of concern mixed with his southern drawl.

You paused.

“I'm leaving, Alexandria,” You rubbed your forehead as your stomach grumbled. Sliding down to sit as your back leaned onto the tree further.

“If this is about your illness we can make—“Before Rick could finish his sentence you interrupted.

“Make it work? Yeah, I don’t think so…” You retorted, “You don’t understand, Rick. I have a condition where my bone marrow doesn't produce enough blood cells, and I have no meds to help me, what are the chances of finding a pharmacy? A pharmacy where it has all the things I need to survive?” You spat, frustration filling your mind like hot liquid.

“Denise can help you, Y/n, you have seen her efforts in helping you,” You can sense Rick’s desperation to get you back to Alexandria’s infirmary. His voice remained gentle but firm.

“Why, Rick?” Your eyes stared into Rick's ocean blue orbs, frustration, and confusion, “I’m not strong, anymore. I can’t go on runs, anymore. I can’t protect anyone.”

“Because we still need you—“

“Maybe it’s you who still needs me, Rick…” You spat, leaning your head on the wood as you got the strength to finally stand up, with the support of the tree, of course.

“Y/n we can discuss this once we get back,” Rick sighed, coming closer to you as he held both your arms gently.

A rush of adrenaline painfully scours into your veins as you push him away with all the remaining strength you have.

“GODDAMNIT RICK, WHY CANT YOU JUST LET ME DIE OUT THERE!” You yelled at him. “YOU KNEW I WAS GOING TO BE A BURDEN AND YOU SAW HOW MANY PILLS I HAD ON THE TABLE!”

Rick scoffed, “You're giving up now? After all that has happened? The prison, terminus… and you decide to end it all here? Where we’re finally safe?” His tone wasn’t as gentle but it was now harsher, deeper.

“if you think more treatments, will change anything, it won’t. I'm done and I won't let you guilt me into continuing this charade.”

“then what’re you gon’ tell Carl, hm? That you’re sick of bein’ alive so now you’re gonna leave?”

“This isn’t about Carl, Rick it’s about you keeping me to fill in the gap of what Lori gave you,” you glare with poison in your very eyes. “Leaving you to care for a child that was never yours.”

Rick went quiet, as you realized what you had said, “i-I’m sorry… Rick…” you pleaded, holding his hands.

Rick sighed, “Maybe you're right."

You nodded, your breath becoming shorter as your legs finally give in. You feel your body starting to shut down. Rick helped you sit down comfortably on the ground. You were paler and had many bruises on your arms and legs. You were heating up again.

“I'm sorry, Rick,” you breathed heavily, clutching the hand he gave you.

“It’s okay, Y/n,” Rick comforted you, kissing her knuckles as her legs trembled. Rick’s voice was shaky, almost labored.

“I don’t wanna turn, you can ask Daryl to keep my gun, you’ll need it,” You softly chuckled. Rick looked at you, taking his revolver from his holster.

“Get back to Alexandria, to Judith…” you smiled as you felt bile in your throat, blocking your airway and your heartbeat becoming more abnormal.

Rick gives you a final kiss on the head as an act of kindness and comfort on the edge of a quick and painless death.

—————————————————————

a/n: Hello everyone! This is my very first Fanfic and I thought about it on the spot 😭 Reading it for me makes me kinda cringe but don’t we all? Anyways hope you guys enjoyed it (cuz I didn’t but I’m a sucker for tragic love)

[devondespresso]

Wiggy Wednesday🧠🪱 - A Robin (Buckley) Hood au

tagged by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @shares-a-vest and @hotluncheddie Thanks guys!!! 💕🫂💝

continue-the-game tags at the bottom, you guys absolutely don't have to read this whole thing for it, it won't hurt my feelings cause this thing got long sgnxgnxnh

💚>> EDIT: @carolperkinsexgirlfriend expanded on the aro robin thing and its literal perfection!! <<💚

tbh the past few days ive felt like i was loosing my spark a bit (could be a medication thing now that i think about it) so the plans for today are to rewatch some really damn good motion pictures, feel some emotions probably, and go from there.

having said that, i was able to put together a fun little idea about Robin Stranger Things as Robin Hood, Steve and Little John, either Vickie or Chrissy as Maid Marian. Chrissy would fit the secretly badass princess type very well, thinking princess peach in the mario movie, while vickie would be slightyyy more tough girl princess, thinking fiona from the first shrek. I'm not like a huge fan of slapping character names into roles just because, so i think most antagonists would be of the robin-hood-world and some might get left out. Dustin and Erica would be there, possibly as merry men, or i also think itd be cool to mix another vaguely-medieval story that fits the kids group better, have it be something in the backstory or future or something like a story living in the edges of this one. Eddies also an easy fit as the minstrel and could be tied to chrissy's story too if you want

im not planning on writing anything for it, but the story ideas that are jumping out to me rn are mostly characters meeting/origin stories. Steve and Robin meet early on in her outcastery, Robin in jail for stealing and Steve also locked up close by either for something outrageously stupid or something definitely illegal but for the sake of his little brother and friends. They swap stories and then swap even more jokes and fun banter. Either Robin loops him in on her plan to break out, or Dustin and Erica come to break Steve out during her escape and they all team up. Maybe a little part where they visit Dustin and friends, let him know Steve's fine even tho him and Robin are fugitives, maybe Dustin tries to follow them but they have to send him back until he's old enough to move out, an emotional "we're not gone forever" talk, concluding with Robin and Steve heading off to camp in the woods and figure out what's next. maybe robin comes out here, maybe steve had confessed and whatnot similar to the show, maybe robin just needed to establish that she's not into him before they started adventuring just the two of them. Maybe she mentions her future plans, to stay firmly on the laws bad side, maybe to reunite with the lady she found at the edge of palace gardens, something that would make the road alongside her rougher than his already will be, and Steve chooses to join her anyway.

also a romantic subplot with Chrissy or Vickie.

if its chrissy, i think itd go similarly to the disney movie (relative to vickie's anyway), chrissy has her princessy life and through circumstance (maybe an archery contest, maybe they run into each other, probably a combination of run-ins) they meet and are into each other, maybe Robin crossdresses and after she's revealed to be a girl Chrissy's head over heels, maybe Chrissy runs away, maybe robin wins her favor, lots of fun princess tropes to play with.

with vickie, i keep leaning into the Fiona-style angle where she very much doesn't care to be in a royal setting, not rejecting femininity just spinning the princess archetype on its head. So maybe she's a runaway, maybe she rescued herself, or maybe she faked her death or something extreme, and she runs into robin (maybe robins disguised and she looks extra rougish, maybe vickie had only heard bad stories about her) and they fight. if vickie wins she notices in her victory robins actual personality, realizes shes not aggressive like expected and they talk, and if robin wins she does a mercy thing, maybe disarms her to get enough time to run off and vickies like 🤨mysterious🤨 or they spark up conversation. Maybe part of Robins group comes in either ready to defend her or diffuse the situation and their appearance soon splits the fight. lots and lots to play with. one way or another vickie tags along or joins the group, she and robin fall in love, yippee

aaaand third option: polyarmory, where chrissy joins the group first, they run into vickie second, and the three of them fall in love.

fourth option: aro robin (lol get it. cause. arrows.) who picks up princesses (plus steve too) like its her job and those princesses fall in love

r*nance (* for search because this isn't exactly abt them, NOT to be a dick about it) could work too ig but its not my jam so im not diving into that angle

i also love the idea of expanding robins relationship with any of the kids (Dustin and especially Erica, because scoops troop has solid character dynamic potential thats barely touched. Robin and Max too, and it'd make sense to bring in Lucas too with his ties to both Erica and Max)

if this gives anyone else brainworms and you want to write it, absolutely go for it, i know im definitely not going to sit down and write scenes or anything for it, and if you're comfortable tag me so i can read it!!

_

for Wiggy Wednesday im tagging (no pressure ofc): @starry-eyed-steve @marvel-ous-m @lightoftheseraph @pearynice @puppy-steve

@tinytalkingtina @dreamwatch @flowercrowngods @withacapitalp @writing-kiki

@queenie-ofthe-void @carolperkinsexgirlfriend @eriquin @hairstevington @sunflowerharrington

@imfinereallyy @sourw0lfs

[ryik-the-writer]

No one:

Me: You know who would have been better as Belle's infidelity partner than Will Scarlet? Jefferson.

Before I begin, THIS IS NOT A BELLE HATE POST! Yes, I am going to address IT, but I am not putting her down for this...and I'll tell you why.

So after that god-freaking-awful twist in 4x11 when Belle sends Rumple over the town line, both he and Belle are left shattered at their dubious betrayals, the latter of which so much so she sought additional comfort (again, not hate, just hear me out).

That love interest ... for whatever reason ... was Will Scarlet, a cameo from Once Upon a Time's short-lived spin-off OUAT in Wonderland, which had ended a few months prior.

I, along with a good chunk of the fanbase, thought it was a unique choice, and most likely a way to acknowledge the spin-off in canon.

Don't get me wrong, I like Will as a character in OUATIW, but he was just off to me in OUAT. Like he was just shoved in there without a real purpose. Even his scenes with Robin Hood felt forced to me.

And honestly, it seemed strange to me that Belle, the logical scholar and fruitful romantic, would break her wedding vows of all things even after what Rumple did.

BUT THEN AGAIN, I also don't think it's established how intensive wedding vows are in this universe. I mean, Snow technically cheated on David with Dr. Whale, and while it's addressed comedically, it's not really addressed as an issue in their marriage but they comfortably move on from none the less.

Of course, it's obviously just the show's weakest attempt at *drama* and a way to baffle the Rumbellers into stunned silence so they can focus on *other things* (I am NOT going THERE today.)

And I think I remember an article or something about Will's actor's Michael Socha, feeling underused and wanting out especially since he had a kid at home. While he has a few zingers between him and other characters like Rumple and Hook, he looks so awkward when he's on-screen with Belle, like even he doesn't know why he's there!

But for the sake of *drama* Belle needs some side yum. Cool. Girl's gotta work out her frustrations some way right? But WILL SCARLET?!

This Will Scarlet?

"I love you Anastasia Tremaine" Will Scarlet?

Who ripped his heart out because her betrayal was just too much?

For freaking sake, they had a TLK!!!

I will only, and I mean ONLY accept the following two theories as a reason why...this happened...

1. This takes place during Will and Anastasia's break.

It's established in the OUATIW that the events in the spinoff are happening sometime in either late-season 1 or early season 2's canon. I think. But maybe, just maybe, it was actually around season 4's timeline? The timeline is screwed to hell anyway so...

Ana's presence is established in OUAT after Will, who broke into the library and vandalized a copy of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, is arrested and held indefinitely. And while Will looks distraught at the mention of his former love, but he's not devastated enough

The scene subsequently serves as a pointless but sweet way to introduce Belle and Will. I myself wrote a fic few years back as a way to fill in how that played out afterwards. But the actual writers just kind of tossed it in there.

And dropped it.

Yeah, WIll just kind of disappeared after season 4. Thanks for stopping by, I guess.

And btw, you cannot convince me that a guy who reacts like this after watching the love of his life get killed in front of him:

Like I kid you not, Will's screams and cries were stuck in my head after that episode. I gasped and covered my mouth. I remember feeling the same way when Graham died in OUAT because Emma's grief was just as raw as this. This is not the kind of grief you just up and move on with so casually. This sticks with you.

BACK TO JEFFERSON

Okay, I swear, I have a point.

Again, if Belle just *needed* a love interest during her break from Rumple, fine, but why not use the opportunity to do some freaking fan service after that Frozen mess?

Bring. Back. The. Hatter.

Why Jefferson?

He has an established relationship with Belle.

Even if the ugly truth is Jefferson had to know Belle was being held captive in the hospital asylum, Belle would still, begrudgingly, be grateful he freed her and reunited her with Rumplestiltskin. Maybe he tried apologizing with coffee, and...things happen.

Plus he has an established relationship with Rumplestiltskin PRIOR to Belle.

No. You cannot tell me these two:

...were just "business associates". No these two were hitting shroons in Wonderland every Tuesday at happy hour, do I make myself clear? It's obvious they weren't friends but they worked well together.

That scene in the shop would have been BANGER if Jefferson had been in Will's place. I mean the possibilities are endless with their establishment. They could have opened up an opportunity to explore more of Rumple's deals with Jefferson to find a way to the Land Without Magic, or even their shared connection with Regina, established, beloved connections in the series the audience would be comfortable with.

And honestly, I think Belle and Jefferson could have very nice chemistry too.

Their both worldly, and I can see these two sitting at a booth in Granny's forever as Jefferson told her her stories about his travels, maybe even a few tales about his deal and possible friendship with Rumplestiltskin. And maybe he helps her heal a bit.

That scene in 4x12 where Belle and Hook talk about Rumple really rubbed me the wrong way. What Rumple did to Belle and, yes, even Hook, was awful, but Hook never had to answer for his part in Rumple's decline. What did he think would happen if he threatened to blackmail him with Belle of all people?

Not to mention, Belle and Grace would have gotten along so well.

At this point in the series, Grace is a young teenager, and could possibly use a female presence. She like Henry, would probably understand that her father needs more companionship and would support their relationship. And it would be great foreshadowing to Belle's own relationship with her child later on. And Belle LOVES kids and could have formed a very promising bond with Grace. Regardless on how her relationship with Jefferson could have ended, Belle would have this girl over for sleepovers every week.

[yongislong]

common phrases in relationship + nct dream.

wc: idk eekk genre: fluff/angst-ish/crack?/establish relationships

cw/note: none, i dont think! common things said within reader x non-idol!dreamies relationships <3 i loved writing this sm

mark... you're doing so well. exchanged in between you guys almost every day. you both could have been alone together all day, lazing around and he'll never forget to tell you how proud of you he is, and you the same, especially on his hardest days. it comes with tears, laughter, a tucking of hair behind the ears, a kiss on the crease in between your brows, or sleepy exchanges in the morning before classes or at night just before knocking out, limbs tangled. there are more lighthearted moments between you both like when he pretends to shoot webs out of his wrists but overall support is key

renjun... boi. and yes with an i, and yes he does the hand sign thing with it, like will come up to you and go "boi" and walk away because hes a FREAAAKK. a close runner up is c'mere. GAHHHH he's insane. literally insane. he has so many phrases some saved just for you but any time you hear "c'mere" you're in for it. absolutley in for it. either he wants money, food or a world domination partner. he knows you'd do anything when he lilts his pitch up a bit higher and whines, he knows hes gorgeous its infuriating but also, look at him hes :") hes jun!? your jun!

jeno... ang or pretty thing. he's a biter. IDK, okay i dont. know. but what i do know is that he bites. whether you're making breakfast or laying curled up in bed, he has this... innate alpha urge to bite your cheek his fav, lower stomach, tricep, thigh or shoulder. literally so non sexual like hes just feral. its cute though and that little ang sound he makes </3 he always apologizes with an eye smile and a "sorry pretty thing" after giggling and wiping his spit off your skin T-T lol. likes seeing ur cheeks get pink after he bites them tho haha

haechan... and scene. he thinks he in a movie fr... everytime he rants or confesses something to you and is slightly even a bit lovable or vunurable he will end it with "and scene." he claims its to break the tension but you know its bc he always puts on a happy persona and he can't handle being emotional like that with someone. hes gotten better at it since you came along yaas but will still do it after he makes out with you and it makes you violent?? and he thinks your face is the funniest thing??? hes ever seen??? everytime?? :D ... :|

jaemin... aaaaigo. obviously! kinda basic but other than pet names and endless praise hes more of an acts of service person. hes the type of guy who would like, want to squeeze their pet to death but, out of love :") and its the same with you like he wish he could be better with words but "aigo" is just so fitting when all he feels is insane amounts of love towards you and he cant... like squeeze you xtra hard lol. sometimes he does one or the other but if your being extra cute he'll pick you up and spin you around while chanting aigo over and over again

chenle... i'll pay. oh chenle and his chivarly. yes you are both broke-ish college students and yes hes paid for at least 95% of everything since you both began dating. only times you've been lucky enough to pay is when he rushes off to the bathroom and you flag down your server with debit card in hand. he zelled you almost immediatley so, cash is now a must for you. he can't help but spoil you. you'd once mentioned to him how you can't imagine what he's gonna be like once you two get steady jobs and all he did was smile at you... like the joker... spoiler he bought daegal with his first adult paycheck

jisung... smoke bomb! i.... ok so he gets into predicaments a lot and ok, tbh i dont think hes all that shy but he is kinda awkward and envionrmentally unaware? so he'll be talking to you, or anyone really, and when he senses your eyes kinda squint and a confused pout make its way onto your lips he pretends to smash something on the ground and yell "smoke bomb" and run as fast as he can but... theres obvi no smoke so he... i mean... you can picture it T-T its v cute though just not when he gets flustered in the public grocery store because you asked him if he knew what gnocci pasta actually was

[chaoticsimp]

My Commander

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

18+ | MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Relationship: Erwin x Fem!Reader 

Content Warnings: NSFW/18+, established relationship, mentions of alcohol (Reader isn't drunk, but has consumed alcohol), oral (female receiving), fingering, over-stim, dirty talk, praise, a little begging, unprotected sex, desk sex, creampie, some tears, squirting, dom/sub dynamic, authority kink (Use of Sir/Commander/Captain), age difference (Reader is in her 20s and I think Erwin is in his 30s?), experience difference? (Not Reader's first time, but first time with Erwin), fluff at the end.

A/N: Starts a little hot (heavy making out), but as always smut is under the cut.

I have missed Erwin, and we can dedicate why I started writing on Tumblr to him lol

Summary: You wanted him, all of him, but after a year together with nothing but sweet kisses, you started to question if he felt the same about you? Little did you know, he wanted you more than he had ever wanted anything.

Word Count: 3430

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It wasn’t your first date. It wasn’t even your second or fifth. You and Erwin had been together for a year, yet he was still pulling away when things got a little hot. It was beginning to frustrate you, what if he wasn’t interested in you that way? What if the experience levels were too different? Could he tell you couldn’t satisfy him from just a kiss? Were you a bad kisser? This outpouring of questions over drinks to Hange had them pushing you to bring it up to Erwin.

“Enter,” His deep voice summoned from behind the door. Your anxiety bubbled in your stomach, and you briefly wished you had taken another shot before coming. You pushed open the door, closing it behind you and a smile came to Erwin’s face when he looked up from his work.

“I know I’m late,” He apologized, rising from his desk. “I wanted to finish these reports before the end of the day, but it would seem my days never end.”

You nodded slightly, swallowing hard as you tried to find your nerve. Erwin noticed your hesitation and he stepped closer to you, his brilliant blue eyes filled with concern as he lifted a hand to your cheek.

“Is everything alright?” Instead of replying, you caught his collar and pulled him to your height pressing your lips to his. Erwin was caught off guard and had trouble getting any more words out as you jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist. His hands found your thighs, and he boosted you a little higher giving you a better angle to kiss his jaw and neck. Erwin’s mind was spinning, each kiss left fire on his skin, and a gentle nip at the bend in his neck made his breath hitch.

“Wait, wait,” He breathed. Erwin caught your hands, stopping them at his shirt buttons as he balanced you between him and the door. He met your stunning eyes, and you let out a heavy breath, a small smile on your lips.

“You don’t like it?” You asked. How could he say no? You’d know he was lying. Yet he saw the waver in your eyes, a moment of doubt as the flush on your face grew.

“Sorry, I-I don’t know what I was-” Erwin caught your thigh when you tried to step down. He claimed your lips again and pressed you tighter against the door enjoying how perfectly your body fit against his. He had thought of this before, thoughts he only indulged in late at night alone in his room, but this was something else. This was hunger finally satiated. No matter how much he told himself to slow down, each gasp and whimper that left those lips he so craved made that voice quieter, and quieter.

“E-Erwin,” You stammered, trying to focus on your words as his lips trailed down your jaw. “I thought you wanted to stop.”

“All I want is you.” His confession sent chills down your spine, and just as you were about to respond there was a knock on his door. Erwin covered your mouth as he continued to kiss down your neck and towards your chest. He managed to undo your top buttons with his teeth. He felt your breath against his hand, a soundless whimper as the knock came a second time making fear swirl with the growing heat in your stomach. You briefly considered biting his hand to get him to stop, but you didn’t want him to even as the knock came a third time.

“Commander Smith, Premier Zachary wanted those reports in tonight.” It was Miche. Erwin had managed to undo all your buttons, and he dropped his hand from your mouth to pull open your top.

“Commander Smith?”

“Just a moment,” He finally replied. He quietly let you down, and you noticed the hard outline in his pants as he walked back to his desk. He picked up a stack of papers then returned to the door. He put a finger to his lips, and you tensed when he opened the door.

“Here you are.” Erwin kept the door closed enough to hide you and his body angled to hide the stiffness in his pants.

“Are you coming to the bar?”

“Not tonight,” Erwin replied, and he noticed the amused smile on Miche’s face.

“Have a goodnight then, Commander, and please tell the Captain the same.” Your face burned red as Erwin closed and locked the door. He chuckled when you hid your face in your hands.

“He could definitely smell me.” Being forward in a private setting was one thing, but having someone else know made you want to disappear.

“Miche knows how to keep a secret,” Erwin assured you as he pulled you back in. Your mouth slanted to his, and any thought of Miche disappeared as Erwin’s tongue prodded at your lips.

Erwin recognized the bitter taste of alcohol, which he knew might be fueling your desires, and he was prepared to stop at any moment. You made quick work of his buttons, and he shed his shirt prompting you to do the same. The feeling of your skin against his made his heart race – he couldn’t believe he finally had you in his hands, so eager for him and what he could give you.

“I didn’t think you wanted me this way,” You admitted shyly, pausing to catch your breath as Erwin’s hands ran down your back.

“My dear, I want you in every way.”

“But you never-”

“I didn’t want to pressure you. If I had known this is what you wanted, I’d have happily obliged,” He assured you. Erwin’s hands moved lower, reaching under your thighs and lifting you back up between him and the door.

“I want to know every part of you, every sound, every move, how you taste, what you like. I want to worship you. I only wanted to be sure you wanted the same, but we can stop if you’re not ready.” You knew he was sincere, no matter how much he wanted you and how openly he confessed his desires. If you said you were done, he would be too. There were zero expectations, and zero pressure which only encouraged you.

“I want you.”

Your confidence was all Erwin needed to continue. He boosted you a little higher, his fingers dug into your thighs as he dropped his mouth to one of your breasts. Your breath hitched as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, and your head fell back against the door. He released one of your thighs which you kept hooked around his waist as his other hand worked on unzipping your pants. He switched to your other breast, and you gasped when his teeth grazed your nipple.

“Erwin,” You whined, wanting more.

“Sir,” He muttered against your skin, and your face burned a little brighter.

“And I believe I’ve advised you on patience before my little Captain.” He continued to suck and nip at your breasts. You felt his palm press against your clothed cunt, and briefly met his gaze when he looked up.

“Are you prepared to follow my every command?” He whispered, and you nodded quickly.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Y-Yes, sir.” He smiled against your skin, his mouth leaving your breast and his hand returning to your thigh as he carried you. Erwin gently lowered you onto his desk. He pulled off your boots, then your pants taking your panties with them. Your skin dimpled at the rush of cool air, and your heart sped up as he lifted your legs, spreading you out before him.

“I’ve dreamt of you bent over my desk,” He mused. “Not even my dreams could compare to this.”

Erwin’s words continued to push away any doubt you may have had when you walked in. He knelt, hooking your legs over his shoulders and you could feel his breath against your thighs. Your stomach twisted in anticipation as he kissed down your inner thighs, purposely avoiding the place you wanted him to hit.

“You’re already so wet for me,” He muttered against your skin. “Are you really so desperate for my touch?”

“Yes, yes. It’s all I want, please,” You panted, nodding as he kissed closer to your core.

“Please?”

“S-Sir,” You stammered.

“I suppose I could have a taste.” You gasped as he dipped his tongue between your folds, his grip on your thighs tightening as if to tell himself to slow down – to savour you. His tongue circled your clit, and your body jolted in response as he repeated the motion. He glanced up at you, your hands held your breasts one pinching your nipple as your mouth hung slightly open. He sucked on your bundle of nerves, and your mouth opened a little wider in response causing him to pause. You whined as you lifted your head, looking down at him – at his perfect face between your thighs.

“You’ve never looked better,” You breathed, and a smile pulled at Erwin’s lips as he held your gaze.

“I would live between your thighs if I could,” He confessed. “But you’re holding back.”

“What if, if someone hears or Miche comes back?” Your breath stuttered as he dragged his pointer finger down your slit, and gently prodded at your entrance. You stared down at him as he lifted his hand, and licked your slick from his finger. That heat in your stomach grew when he smirked a little.

“Then they’ll hear you serving your Commander,” He teased, and it made your face redden. “But if that is such a concern, then try and hold back all you wish.”

Before you could say anything, Erwin’s mouth dropped back to your cunt, this time with a new hunger. You bit your lip hard as Erwin devoured you, expertly hitting every spot that made you squirm. He released one of your thighs, and you nearly bit through your lip as he pressed a finger into you. Your thighs tightened around his head, and you wondered how much longer you could hold out.

“Fuck,” You whispered, still trying to keep quiet. The papers on Erwin’s desk crinkled as you tried to find something to grip, something to ground you from the immense ecstasy that was Erwin’s tongue. Erwin added a second finger, seeking that soft spot that was sure to break you as one of your hands found the back of his head. He felt your grip tighten, and knew he found it the moment a moan finally escaped your lips.

“E-Erwin, please slow down,” You whined, but your request fell on deaf ears as he hit that spot again, and again, and again. His relentless pace had you barreling towards an orgasm, your back arched against his desk and you couldn’t get the words out as it crashed over you. The noise that left your lips was music to Erwin’s ears, and he pulled his mouth from your clit but kept his fingers moving as he looked up at you.

“I-I’ve never, I’ve-I’ve,” You had to pause, and noticed the pride that shone in Erwin’s eyes as he looked down at you, waiting for you to catch your breath.

“I’ve never cum that fast.”

“I know a thing or two,” He replied, pulling you back when your hips wiggled away.

“I-I just need a minute to...” But Erwin was already kissing down your thighs.

“How many can you give me?” He whispered, and you quickly realized what he was asking. It shouldn’t have surprised you. This was the man whose ambition and determination made him the best Commander the Scouts had ever had. His relentless will is who he was and of course, that would extend to the private parts of his life.

“Captain, I asked you a question,” Erwin reminded, pressing a kiss so close to your clit it made you shiver in delight. If you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t sure, but the thought of him lost between your thighs for a while longer had that warmth in your stomach reigniting.

“However many you want, My Commander.” The use of his title ignited something in his eyes. It was a name Erwin was used to hearing, but coming from you? Perfect little you, splayed out on his desk like a lavish meal – he would never be able to hear it the same way again.

“That’s my good girl.”

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

When you said however many times you want, you were being bold. You were trying to play the game as well as he did, and part of you didn’t believe Erwin had the stamina to keep up with such an indulgent response. Yet here you were, still splayed across his desk. Your thighs trembling, your cunt dripping, and your throat sore as he pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you, and he hadn’t even fucked you.

“Just one more,” He requested, and you looked down at him. You could already see the bruises left behind by his fingerprints, small gifts left on your thighs and hips that would remind you of this moment long after it was over.

Erwin wiped his chin as he finally stood. His thumb replaced his lips against your swollen clit and your body shook in response, much to his pleasure as he eyed the mess you had made on his desk.

“I-I don’t think I can,” You confessed as he pulled you to a sitting position. He dropped his mouth to yours, pressing his tongue past your lips. Your mind was a haze, a haze of him, of his hands on your skin and your taste on his tongue. A string of saliva connected the two of you when he pulled back, he swiped it away with his thumb and pet your bottom lip as he held your gaze.

“You can,” He encouraged. “Or will you disappoint your Commander?”

“Of course not,” You objected.

“Good girl.” You trusted your weight in Erwin’s hands as he effortlessly turned you around. He pushed you back down on the desk, your cheek pressed against the crumpled papers and his hands briefly left you. You heard the undoing of his belt and realized you were the only one completely naked. How long had it been since you came into his office?

“Are you sure you still want more?” You nodded tiredly.

“I can take it,” You breathed, and Erwin chuckled. You felt him press a kiss to the back of your shoulder, and his breath sent chills down your spine.

“I know you can but tell me if anything hurts.” Erwin lifted one of your legs onto his desk before dragging his length between your folds. The anticipation returned, bringing with it a spike of energy you didn’t know you still had as he coated himself in your juices. Then you finally felt him, felt his hard, thick cock press against your entrance. His groan distracted you as he pushed past that first ring of muscle. Nothing could compare to the beautiful sound of his deep moans and his whispers of 'so good' and 'so tight' as he slowly sunk into you.

“You take me so well” Erwin mumbled once he was fully sheathed inside you. The stretch was a pleasurable sting. Your walls fluttered around his length, clenching as they molded against his cock, and he took a moment to enjoy your warmth and how perfectly he fit inside you.

“You were made for me.” Erwin’s compliments made your heart flutter, they made you want to please him and give him everything you could. So, when you felt ready and adjusted to his size you pressed on.

“M-More.” Erwin was impressed, he thought he had reached the limits of your stamina but here you were, trembling from the pleasure and exertion still asking for more. He regretted waiting so long. If he knew this is how badly you wanted him, needed him, he’d have given it all to you a year ago.

“I’ll give you everything,” He promised. You gripped the edge of the desk as Erwin pulled out, then pushed back in, his veins dragging along your velvety walls. His hands dug into the meat of your hips as his pace picked up enough to make the desk shake. You were lost in him, in his soft grunts, in how his hands held you in place, in his deep, commanding voice that made you want to bend to his will. You didn’t know if you’d ever get enough of him or how good he made you feel.

Erwin lifted your other leg onto his desk, and the new angle allowed his cock to graze your soft spot with every ruthless thrust. You felt tears spilling down your cheek as Erwin looped a hand beneath you, his fingers finding your over-sensitized clit. You were on the line between pain and pleasure, and an unfamiliar pressure between your legs had your mind spinning.

“I-I can’t,” You cried. “It’s too much, I-I-”

“You can,” He interrupted gently. “Just let go.”

Erwin’s pace didn’t slow. Your vision blurred at the edges as he drew tighter circles on your clit. Your body shuddered, and your nails dug into the wood of his desk. That pressure kept building, and only Erwin seemed to know where it was heading. You were dancing on the line, but you were still missing something.

“I-I just need a little more,” You pleaded, and Erwin found himself wondering what more could you possibly need.

“Tell me,” He demanded, slowing enough to give you a chance to speak. You managed to look back at him over your shoulder, his eyes dark with lust as he stared down at you.

“Cum,” You panted. “Cum inside me, please a-and don’t stop.”

Erwin didn’t need the please, the request was enough for him to return to his ruthless pace but your sweet 'please' and 'don’t stop' were the cherry on top. You were so perfect, so beautiful bent over his desk just like he had imagined. No, not even his imagination couldn’t compare to the sight of his cock plunging in and out of you. You really were made for him. Erwin’s hips stuttered, his thrusts slowing as a low moan escaped his lips and his cum poured inside of you.

“Is this what you wanted?” He whispered, thrusting into you slowly and deeply. “To be filled by your Commander, to be mine and mine alone?”

“Yes, yes, yes…” You cried.

“Then be my good little Captain and give me what you promised.” You were right there, right on the edge as he fucked his cum into you, but his words were the last thing you needed to let it all go. That pressure exploded, and you felt a gush between your legs, coating your thighs and Erwin’s in your pleasure. You screamed till your voice went silent, your back arching painfully as your nails dug into the desk.

“That’s it, that’s a good girl. Let it all out,” Erwin cooed. You barely heard him above the pleasure, your body collapsed on his desk, and your vision briefly darkened. Erwin pulled out of you, watching his cum mix with your juices as they dripped down your thighs. It was truly a beautiful sight to behold. He called your name, and when you didn’t respond he carefully lifted you off his desk.

“Come back,” He spoke gently, holding your trembling body against his as he took a seat in the office chair behind him.

“I’m right here, I’ve got you,” He whispered against your skin. It took you a moment, your lids felt heavy as you opened them and you smiled when you saw Erwin’s concerned face.

“Are you alright, my dear?”

“Was that good?” You asked, answering his question with your own and Erwin almost laughed.

“That was everything I wanted and more. You are incredible.” Your smile grew a little as Erwin lifted you into his arms, and your head fell against his shoulder.

“I love you,” You mumbled. “My Commander.”

“You’re going to have to stop calling me that.” You managed a small laugh.

“Does my voice have such an effect on you?”

“Everything about you has an effect on me,” He replied. “And after tonight I won’t be able to think of my title in any other way.”

“Good,” You replied, staring up at him with so much love in your eyes Erwin thought he would melt. He noticed you fighting sleep and pressed a gentle kiss against your forehead.

“Rest, I’ll take care of everything else.”

[chickensarentcheap]

Lost and Found- Chapter 27

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (established OFC. You do NOT have to read the other fics in the series to understand this one)

Warnings: some profanity, mentions of blood, bruises, physical injuries

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @thebejeweledwatercat @fanficanatic-tw @munstysmind @themaradwrites @asirensrage @kmc1989 @karimac @ninjasawakenedmystar @theesirenteller @residentdormouse @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciationtag @occommunity @alisbackalleybbq

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/134993251

My tag list is OPEN. Just let me know if you'd like to be added :)

****

When she wakes, it’s to the glow of the bedside monitor and the ribbons of moonlight that stream into the room. As the waves of the Tyrrhenian Sea vigorously lap at the base of the cliffs, a steady, crisp breeze flows through the open window; fluttering the curtains as the scent of salt fills the room.

She’s confused and disoriented. Days spent drifting out of consciousness; never fully aware of her surroundings, the identities of the people tending to her, or the validity of the conversations she partook in. Kept on high and frequent doses of medication as her body began the healing process; wanting to spare her the overwhelming stress that the intense and constant pain would inflict upon her. It takes several minutes for her surroundings to register; the disjointed and muddled mess of thoughts causing her head to swim as the room spins around her. Her mouth and throat are impossibly dry; finding it painful to swallow, her cracked and peeling lips burning when she dares to run the tip of her tongue along them. Her limbs feel impossibly heavy and rooted to the mattress below; the accompanying pain dull, yet manageable. A far cry from the agony she’d experienced after the accident; the memories of that afternoon returning slowly yet terrifying vividly.

“Tyler?” Her voice is barely above a whisper. Initially believing she’s speaking to an empty room, she gives a small start when she hears movement at the side of the bed. Then manages both a sigh of relief and a small smile as he drops his cell phone onto the mattress and slides his chair closer.

“Hey…”

The smile reaches his eyes, crinkling the corners. The first time she’d ever seen it, it had taken her breath away; the way the years seemed to drop away from his face and off his shoulders. Only to be replaced by a softness and a beauty not expected from a man like him. Weary and laden with unspeakable burdens; the traumas he’d endured for most of his life, the things he’d seen and done during his tours of duty with the military, the lives he’d taken during his time as a mercenary. And while others had deemed him reckless and dangerous, he’d been the only person who’d ever made her feel safe. Secure. Protected.

He briefly stands, leaning over the bed and running a hand over her hair. Hooking a finger under her chin, he gently tilts her face towards him; his lips gracing hers with the most delicate of kisses. “...sleeping beauty awakes.”

“I appreciate you trying to feed my ego, but I already know I’m a mess. And not a hot one, either.”

“You’re still here. Alive and on the mend. Can’t get much more beautiful than that.”

“Jesus, you really ARE the most biased man on the planet.”

“Biased or not, it’s true.” Pulling the chair as close as he can to the edge of the bed, he sits once more. A palm resting on the top of her head as his thumb repeatedly brushes against her brow and his free hand holds one of hers. How ya feelin’?”

“I’m not entirely sure. Better, I guess? Considering how I felt when it first happened…” She gingerly reaches across her body; careful to not upset the various tubes and wires and the IV needle that pierces the top of her hand. Allowing her fingertips to gently explore the various cuts and bruises that mar his face and neck. “Are you okay?”

“You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Excuse me? Have we met? I worry. It’s what I do. You should know that by now.”

“Of all the times you should be ignoring what I look like and what I’m doing.…”

“That’s impossible. I’ll never stop worrying about you; no matter what’s going on with me. I spent five years worrying; wondering how you were doing and if you were staying safe, and just hoping and praying you’d be alright. Every time Nik would tell me about a job you’d take…”

“You know, you could have cut out the middleman and just talked to me.”

“I wanted to, so many times. Do you know how many text messages I erased instead of sending them? How many times I’d call and get your voicemail, then just hang up without leaving anything? More than I like to admit.”

“I used to call your cell,” he sheepishly admits. “ The one you left behind. Just to listen to your outgoing message. Hear your voice.”

“Did it make you feel better?”

“Sometimes. And sometimes it made me mad as hell.”

“I’m sorry, Tyler. I am so sorry. And I know it seems like I’m constantly saying that, but…”

“Let’s not talk about it right now, okay? If there was ever a time NOT to…”

“What better time could there be? Not much else I can do.”

“It’s not important right now. We’ll get lots of time later. Believe me. When all this is over, and we’re finally home and settled, we can deal with everything else. But right now…” Cupping her cheek in his palm, the pad of his thumb tenderly glides over one of the many bruises that grace her skin. “...let’s just concentrate on you. Getting you better. And home.”

“That’s all I want. To go home. I mean, not that it actually IS my home. It’s not like I’ve ever lived there. I didn’t…”

“It is, though. Your home. OUR home. It’s the one we bought together. Made all kinds of plans for. The last five years didn’t just erase all of that.”

“But I never actually lived there. Other than when we first looked at it with the realtor, I’ve never even stepped through the front door.”

“That doesn’t matter. At least not to me. It’s always been your home, Me. It’s always been the place where you belong.”

Tears glisten in her eyes. “Why are you like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like THIS. The way you are with me. The way you’ve always been. Why do you love me like you do?”

“Do I need to have a reason?”

“After everything I’ve done, after hurting you like I did, you still love me. Way more than anyone else ever has. Or could. Why?”

“Because I do. Isn’t that enough?”

“I don’t deserve it. Not after…”

“That’s just your guilt talking.”

“I have a reason to be guilty. Everything I did to you..”

“Esme, I love you. I have ALWAYS loved you. And I always held out hope that one day you’d just walk back into my life. I only wish it had been a little sooner.”

“If I only called you sooner. Not waited so long. If I’d just…”

“But you didn’t. And you can’t change that. You can’t go back and make different choices. And you know what, that’s going to suck for a long time. Believe me, I know. There are a couple of things I wish I could go back and change. Have a re-do.”

“When it comes to us? To me?”

“The only thing I’d change is that I’d stay home that day; instead of going to Broome with Koen. And I should have. Stayed with you. You were sick, and you needed me and I..”

“I thought it was stress. Or that I’d come down with something. I wasn’t bedridden. I didn’t need you to wait on me and food and baby me. I…”

“I should have stayed. It’s the one time I didn’t listen to my gut. And look what happened.”

“You being there wouldn’t have changed things. The adjudicator still would have shown up. If anything, your being there would have made things worse. I know what you’re like, Tyler. When it comes to me. How protective you are. How you wouldn’t think twice about hurting someone…even killing them…when it comes to me. That wouldn’t have ended well. If you’d laid hands on them.”

“Maybe not. But we could have gone through it together. Found a place to hide out while Nik dealt with everything. You leaving? That wasn’t the only option.”

“I was scared. I wanted to protect you. Everything I did that day, I did for you- to keep you safe. I never did any of it to hurt you.”

“I know that. And I’m starting to accept it. You just need to give me some time, yeah? To deal with all of it? Work through it? I need that from you. Time.”

“As long as you don’t want to go through it alone. As long as it means that it’s the three of us dealing with it all together. Me, you, Millie. That’s what you want, right? The three of us sticking together?”

“I wouldn’t think of NOT doing it that way. I’m not going anywhere- not now, not ever. You need to trust me when I tell you that.”

“I do trust you. I’ve always trusted you. You’re the only person I really DO trust. To this extent, anyway.”

“Then trust me when I tell you that we don’t need to be dealing with this right now. We’re going to have lots of time to talk about things. Work through them. But right now? Right now needs to be about you. And getting you back on your feet and finally home. That’s all that matters. Can we agree? To just focus on that?”

Esme nods.

Giving her a wink, he leans in to press a kiss to her brow)

Her fingertips continue the investigation of his face and neck; tracing over healing cuts and thriving bruises. “I think you’re going to have a few new scars. To add to your collection. Nothing major, but…”

“Wouldn’t be one of my jobs if I didn’t get a little fucked up.”

“You do have a bad habit of messing yourself up, that’s for sure. Why it has to be the face, I’ll never know. Of all things? The face? Really?”

“I appreciate your concern for the rest of my body,” he teases. “And my mental health.”

“This one will always be my favourite.” She runs a fingertip over the scar that curves over the bridge of his nose. “Always.”

“How ARE you feeling? And don’t bullshit me.”

“I feel fine. Well, I don’t know if ‘fine’ is the right word, but I know I feel a lot better than I did…” She frowns, her voice trailing off.

“What? What’s wrong? What…?”

“How many days HAS it been? Since we left New York? What day is it today?”

“It’s Friday.”

“What? Friday? Are you sure?”

“I’m fully aware of what day it is.”

“But we left on Monday. How can it already be Friday? I’ve been out that long? What…?”

“You’ve been on some really strong meds. Heavy-duty stuff. You’ve been in and out. Never fully conscious, though. The doctor thought it was for the best; let your body heal without trying to fight back against the pain.”

“Did you think it was for the best?”

“I wouldn’t have told him to go ahead with it if I didn’t. I didn’t want you in constant pain. I know what it’s like; to always be in agony. I didn’t want that for you. Of all people who don’t deserve that…”

“Thank you. For taking care of me. Fighting for me.”

“It’s what we do, yeah? Take care of each other? Isn’t that what you always say?”

She nods.

“It was my turn anyway. Considering everything you had to do? After Dhaka?”

“I didn’t HAVE to do it. I wanted to do it.”

“Just like I want to take care of you. No more running. I’m not that guy anymore. I haven’t been him in a long time.”

“I’ve never known that Tyler. I’ve only ever known that one who will do anything and everything he has to protect me. THAT’S the Tyler I know. The one I fell in love with.”

He presses a kiss to her temple. “I do have a bone to pick with you, though.”

“Uh-oh.”

“You scared the fucking shit out of me. Seeing you like that. After the accident.”

“It wasn’t intentional. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Just don’t do it again, yeah? I’m not getting any younger. My heart can only take so much.”

“Noted. I’ll be on my best behaviour from here on out. You know what the good thing is? That once this is all over and we’re finally settled, we won’t have to worry about this kind of thing anymore. Let alone go through it. It’ll all be behind us. No more stressing over whether or not the last time you walk out the front door really IS the last time.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you’re kinda walking away from danger and right into another. You do realize you’re gonna be married to a firefighter, right?”

“As scary and as dangerous as that is, I will take it over you being a mercenary any day of the week. Not to take away from your skills or your talent. Because you’re amazing at what you do. But…”

“It’s time. For something new. Something normal.”

“Whatever ‘normal’ is when it comes to us. We’ve never really been ‘normal’.”

“Our own brand of normal, I guess. We weren’t meant to be like everyone else. And who wants to be? That’s boring as hell.”

“I’m okay with whatever brand of normal we come up with.”

“Speaking of being okay, you never really answered my question. About how you’re feeling.”

“I feel kinda weird, to be honest. The last thing I really remember is being with Nik and Yaz. On our way to the airport. When you gave me that morphine. Everything after that is a complete blur. Just the mashup of moments and words and sounds. I know that doesn’t make sense.”

“I remember feeling like that. After waking up from that coma. So it makes total sense to me. Have any pain?”

“A little. Nothing serious, though.”

“They almost weaned you completely off the IV meds. They’ll want to start you on oral stuff in the morning. They don’t want you hooked up to anything once you go home. Think you can manage that? Getting rid of all those tubes and wires?”

“I can definitely manage that.”

“Do you need anything? Something to drink? Eat?”

“I AM thirsty. And I definitely could eat. Honestly, I feel like I could eat the shit out of a dead hippo, right about now.”

He chuckles. “Now I know where she got it from. Millie said the same thing the other day. When she woke up and wanted breakfast.”

“Well, there is at least a little bit of me inside of her. A few of my genes. She can’t be EXACTLY like you.”

“She’s like me in all the best ways, though.”

“She’s beautiful, like you. That’s for sure.”

“You just had to go and insult me. Call me the ‘b’ word.”

“Regardless of what you think, you can be both badass AND beautiful. You check both boxes. Among many others.”

“You are so good for my ego.” Cradling her bruised cheek in his palms, he places a long, soft kiss on her lips. “I’ll go downstairs and see what I can round up. You feel like anything in particular or…?”

“Cheese toast.”

“I can’t believe you still eat that stuff,” he chides. “Thought you would have grown out of that by now.”

“It’s my favourite comfort food. That, and your lasagna. Remember how I’d always ask you to make that? If I wasn’t feeling well or I was just having a really shitty day? And you always did it. No questions asked. No bitching or moaning about it.”

“I liked making you happy. I still do. Besides, if Esme wasn’t having a good day, no one was.”

“I always felt I’d found the proverbial needle in the haystack. A guy that can fuck well, fix his own truck, AND cook? Nothing sexier than that combo.”

“You know, when it comes to men, your standards are very low.”

“Well, I mean, there’s a lot of things that are sexy about you. I have a very extensive list.”

“Like I said, you’re really good at stroking my ego. Among other things.”

(laughs, then winces when it causes pain and discomfort in her ribs)

“You just relax, okay? I’ll go and make you something to eat. Bring you some tea. It’ll do some good to get some food into you.”

He stands and leans over the bed; index finger once more hooking under her chin and tilting her head back in order to kiss her. Skimming his knuckles over her bruised cheek, she grabs his hand when he attempts to step away from the bed; squeezing tightly as he glances down at her. Scowling at the look of fear and worry that lines her brow and creases the corners of her eyes.

“You’re coming back, right?”

“I mean unless something happens to me on the way to the kitchen or on my way back here…”

“Promise me. That you’re coming back.”

“I’m coming back.” He chooses to assure as opposed to scolding her for thinking so irrationally. “I already told you, Me. I’m not going anywhere. Ever.”

****

He returns with a tray laden with food and a small pot of tea; discovering that she’s managed to sit herself up in bed and now leans back against a selection of pillows stacked behind her. In spite of the bruises that decorate her face and various parts of her body, her colour has started to return; days spent a sickly, almost deathly gray, her skin impossibly dry. She’s starting to look like Esme again; able to smile, the sparkle back in her eyes, her sunken cheeks beginning to fill out. Clarity and understanding quickly restored; now fully conscious and aware of her surroundings. It’s a relief to see her like this; knowing the extent of her injuries and how close things had come to being so much worse. And when she beams at him as approaches the bed, it helps the last of his fears and worries subside.

“I see you made it back safe and sound. No one tried to kidnap you.”

“I was jumped in the hallway. Fought them off. Told them they may be mean and tough, but they don’t come close to you when you’re hangry.”

“I am not THAT bad.”

“I’ve lived with you. You ARE that bad.

“Got ya a little bit of everything.” Placing the tray across her lap, he takes a seat on the edge of the mattress. “Cheese toast, some apple sauce, some pasta that was left over from dinner, some tea.”

“I know I said I was hungry, and I really do appreciate you wanting to wait on me hand and foot, but…”

“You don’t have to eat it all. Just a bit of each. Do what you can.”

As she attempts to eat, he tends to the tea. Filling the waiting mug and adding a splash of milk, he keeps a quiet, watchful eye on her as she attempts to eat; her hands furiously trembling, making it impossible to even lift the food, never mind get it to her mouth. Instead of immediately jumping to her aid, he allows her to keep trying; knowing the enormity of both her stubbornness and her hatred for being too ‘dependent’ on another person. And it isn’t until she mutters profanities and begins to tear up that he finally steps in; sliding closer to her just as her lower lip and chin begin to tremble.

“Here…” Cupping a hand under her chin, uses the other to bring a slice of cheese toast to her lips. “...let’s make it easier on you.”

“You shouldn’t have to do this.”

“No one HAS to do anything. I’m doing it ‘cause I want to.”

“It’s embarrassing. I’m a grown-ass adult. I shouldn’t need someone to feed me.”

“Did you think that way when you were doing it for me? After Dhaka? That I was a grown man and should be able to do it myself?”

“You almost died. You were in a coma for seven months. You needed my help.”

“And you’ve gotten yourself fucked up pretty good, and you need my help.”

“It’s not the same thing. It’s…”

“It’s a two-way street, yeah? We already agreed on that. You take care of me, I take care of you.”

“But…”

“No ‘buts’. Just shut up and eat your cheese toast.”

He’s patient, and his voice is gentle, allowing her to take small bites and chew slowly, offering encouragement and praising her on both her efforts and success. Using soft fingertips to clear crumbs and cheese away from the corners of her mouth, then moved on to the applesauce; alternating between slipping the spoon between her lips and offering sips of tea. And he’s genuinely impressed when she makes it through more than half the pot and a couple of mouthfuls of pasta before tapping out.

Helping her get settled and comfortable against the pillows, he moves the tray to the dresser and disappears into the master bath. Returning moments later with a damp cloth and a hand towel in order to clean and dry her face. Afterwards, he climbs into the bed alongside her; mindful of the various tubes and wires as he settles next to her. Leaning back against the headboard and stretching his legs out in front of him; her body fitting tightly -and comfortably- against his when he wraps an arm around her shoulders.

Dropping a kiss on her hair, he places his chin on the top of her head. “You good? Feeling alright?”

“I’m good. Full. I think I ate too much. Probably shouldn’t have had THAT much.”

“That was nothing. I’ve seen you put away enough to feed four grown men.”

Laughing, she digs her elbow into his ribs. “Fuck off, Tyler.”

“It’s kinda sexy; a little thing like you being able to pack it away like that.”

“I’m starting to regret that I even woke up. You picking on me like this.”

“Everything I say, I say with love. Just like when you make fun of my huge feet and big ass forehead.”

“I don’t say those things with love. I say them with one hundred percent truth.”

“Now who’s starting to regret that you woke up?”

“For the record, EVERYTHING I say is out of love. Well, except for maybe when I used to bitch at you for leaving your dirty underwear in front of the hamper, instead of in it.”

“You sure it was mine? ‘Cause I don’t wear underwear ninety-eight percent of the time.”

“Well…” She settles her head on his chest and places her hand on his stomach; fingertips drawing slow, smooth circles on the fabric of his t-shirt. “... unless there was another guy living there that I didn’t know about…”

“It was my twin. My EVIL twin.”

“And what did you do with him? Your evil twin.”

“Who says you’re not talking to the evil one?”

“The evil twin would NOT have spoonfed me apple sauce.”

“That’s a very good point.”

“Besides, there’s nothing evil about you- not in the slightest. Trust me, I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you if there had been. And I definitely wouldn’t have STAYED in love with you. The last five years haven’t exactly been pleasant for me, either.”

“I know. It’s not like you wanted to leave. Or stay away.”

“But, I promised we wouldn’t talk about this. Not right now, anyway. And I don’t want to fight. I know how things get when we talk about intense stuff; we both get worked up, and our tempers take over and mean things get said. And then the next thing you know, all kinds of feelings are hurt, and we hate each other.”

“I’ve never hated you. I never could.”

“Okay, maybe hate is a strong word. But feelings do get hurt, and then we hold grudges against each other, and things are awkward for a while. And I don’t want things to be awkward. I want to be better than that; like we were five years ago. Not that we were horrible together, or anything. Because we weren’t. We just…”

“We both had a shit we were carrying around. It was bound to fuck things up every now and then.”

“Everything happened so fast. Between us. We never really got a chance to catch our breath, did we.”

“Not really, no.”

“We went from those five days in Dhaka to living together and planning a future. It’s not like we dated; or got to know each other like normal people.”

“I think we long ago established that we are both far from normal. Do you regret it? The way we handled things? The way they happened?”

“No. Not in the slightest. I just think it’s just a reasonable explanation; for why things got a little tense and out of hand at times. But you? US? I’ve never…for not even one second…had any regrets. I mean, other than the obvious. My fuck up five years ago. I think that goes without saying. Do you? Have regrets?”

“No. It all happened for a reason: you showing up on my doorstep that day, everything that went down in Dhaka. And I hope one day I can say the same thing about you taking off, keeping Millie a secret. That there was a reason for it to happen that way.”

“There was. I wanted to keep you safe. That’s the only reason. And as far as not telling you about Millie…”

“I know you were scared. That I’d turn you away. That I wouldn’t want anything to do with her. And there are moments where I totally accept that. But other times…”

“Hurts like hell.”

He nods.

“I AM sorry, Tyler. And if there was a way of taking it all back…”

“Well, there isn’t.” Immediately aware of the harshness of his voice, he gives her shoulder a squeeze and smiles down at her. “I love you. I always have. And isn’t that what really matters? When it all comes down to it? That I love you?”

“That’s all that’s ever mattered. It was the only thing I ever had that was real. How you felt about me. It was the only thing that was ever important. And then Millie came along. She’s all I had of you. My only connection. I didn’t even have a picture of you. I just had her.”

“You’ve done a good job, Me. A damn good job. She’s beautiful. And so fucking smart. Way smarter than I was at that age, that’s for sure. Probably smarter than I was at TWICE that age. Maybe even smarter than I am now.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’ve got a bigger brain pan than you realize or let on. And that’s part of what makes you so good at what you do. You’ve got the size, strength, and skills; those things are easy for people to see. They don’t expect you to be smart, too. They underestimate you. And that’s what makes you so dangerous.”

“I don’t know, Me. I think you have me beat in that department. If anyone is underestimated…”

“Well, you know what they say, about good things coming in small packages.”

“Pocket-sized packages, in your case.”

“Oh God, not THAT again.”

“I’m just saying. You’re tough for a little thing. I can see why you were so good at the job. No one would ever expect someone like you to be able to pull those kinds of things off.”

“It was survival of the fittest. And the smartest. I learned early on that if I was going to make it out alive, I had to be really good at what I did. It was exhausting, though: pretending to be a completely different person all the time. I’m glad it’s done; that I can just walk away and never think of this life again.”

“Soon. Once we’re out of here and get settled in Broome and Nik takes care of things back in New York City…”

“It’s going to be weird. Living a whole different life. Seeing you doing a different job. I have to say, you picked a pretty sexy career. A girl loves a man in uniform.”

“I don’t wear a uniform.”

“That’s it; go and ruin my fantasy.”

“And there’s nothing sexy about those coats and those boots, I’ll tell you that much.”

“You’re just a real party pooper, you know that?” Nuzzling her cheek against his chest, she closes her eyes. Relaxing in the warmth that radiates from his body, the hard muscle against her, his familiar scent, and the way his calloused fingertips repeatedly graze up and down her arm. She desperately needs and craves the close contact; the feel of him a vivid reminder that she’d walked through hell and come out the other side.

*****

Several minutes pass before she speaks again. “Has Millie been okay?”

“She’s been worried about her mum. Constantly asking the doctor and the nurse about how you’re doing and if you’re getting better. And giving all kinds of advice on how to take care of you. She’s pretty adamant that mint chocolate chip ice cream is the cure to everything.”

“Was she ever in here? Because I don’t know if I was dreaming, but I have this very vivid, distinct memory of her sitting on the bed and brushing my hair.”

“Every night before bed, she comes in and sits with you. She always brushes your hair. And reads you a story.”

“That’s why I can’t get ‘Goodnight Moon’ out of my head. We really need to toss that book. Get her interested in something else. Because if I hear that damn story one more time…”

“Consider it done. As soon as we get home, it’ll mysteriously disappear. Along with your ten pairs of Crocs.”

“Hey! Leave my Crocs out of this. They didn’t do anything to you.”

“They’re an abomination.”

“They’re comfortable!”

“They’re ugly, is what they are.”

“If you know what’s good for you, you won’t touch my Crocs. I can hurt you, you know. In ways no one else ever has.”

“Doesn’t sound too ominous. Sounds more like you’re threatening me with a good time.”

“Listen, if you want to take your chances…”

“I’d rather be safe than sorry. You’re scary for a little thing. Probably the only person on earth who DOES frighten me.”

“You SHOULD be afraid. Very afraid. I have powers. That you can’t even begin to comprehend.”

“If you’re threatening me with no sex, I’ll have you know that I went months without it. After you left. Almost an entire year. So don’t think I can’t do that again. I don’t want to, but…”

“Who am I kidding? I’d never do something like that. I’d suffer just as much as you would. If not more.”

Yawning noisily, she once more closes her eyes; enjoying the feel of his breath against the top of her head and the sound of his heart beating deep within his chest. And he’s teetering on the edge of sleep when he feels her move against him; finding her peering up at him, chin resting just below his shoulder.

“You alright?”

“I have something to tell you.”

“I don’t think I like the sound of that.”

“It’s nothing bad. At least not to me. You might see it a bit differently. When you hear what it is. But I just figured that since we’re doing this whole totally honest, completely open thing, there was no reason to wait. That we’re in a good enough place to talk about it.”

“If it has anything to do with when you left and started hiding out…”

“It’s nothing to do with that. Well, maybe it does. I don’t know. I suppose it’s kind of related. Very loosely, mind you. I just think this is the time to tell you about it. I’m finally awake and feeling a lot better, and we’ve had some really good talks tonight, and I guess I want to keep the ball rolling and just..”

“Esme, you’re rambling.”

“I don’t even know where to start. HOW to start.”

“Just spit it out. Say what you want to say. What you NEED to say.”

Sighing heavily, she briefly glances away, chewing nervously on her bottom lip. “I was the one who asked Alcott to get you out of prison.”

“What do you mean you were the one who…?”

“I had spies, okay. Informants. Keeping me up to date on you. Alcott, Nik, Yaz. You know, people I could trust; to do the job for me and keep quiet about it. I didn’t want you to know that I was keeping an eye on you; I know how much you hate being babied or coddled or worried and I was afraid you found out I was sticking my nose where it didn’t belong…”

“I would have just been happy to know you were okay. To know you even still gave a shit about me. I wouldn’t even have questioned it; you spying on me.”

“I always gave a shit about you. It was never about NOT giving a shit. I still worried about you. I still LOVED you. None of that ever stopped. Not even for a second.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t know about any of this. You and Alcott being buddies.”

“You know what it’s like in the circle. Everyone’s connected in some way.”

“And you asked him not to tell me. That he knew you.”

“There was no reason for you to know. It didn’t really have any bearing on anything. And it kept Millie and I under the radar; the fewer people who knew where we were and who were connected to, the better.”

“So he just called you and told you I was in prison?”

“Not exactly. Well, I mean, he DID. He was the one who let me know. But before that, he’d shown up in New York. Totally unexpected. And he told me all about the job in Georgia; how it involved your sister-in-law and her kids, and that it was Mia that hired you.”

“And…?”

“And it didn’t sit right. The whole thing just felt ‘off’ to me. I found it really…troublesome…that she sought you out like that. I mean, didn’t seem kind of weird to you? That after years of even knowing she was, she would just show up out of the blue? For something like THAT?”

“It was a little…odd.”

“I didn’t like it. At all. The fact she went looking for you. The fact that she would probably use your son’s death against you; use all that guilt and regret and grief to get you to do what she wanted. You can see why, right? Why I’d think that? Why I’d immediately go in that direction?”

“I’m not saying you were wrong for thinking it.”

“I knew once she did that, you’d go along with it. You’d take the job; not even caring about how risky it was or how dangerous the Nagazi were. So naturally, that made me even more nervous. Knowing you were going into something like that.”

“And Alcott kept you up to date? On what was happening?”

“I asked him to let me know how things went. Like I said, I was worried about you. And I knew all about Davit and Zurab and what they and their people were capable of. It scared me, alright? I didn’t want anything to happen to you. I loved you. You were the father of my daughter. And the thought of her losing you before ever even having you…”

“This is just…” He laughs incredulously and shakes his head. “Wow.”

“I knew exactly when the job started. Day, time. Right down to the very second. And Alcott was supposed to let me know how things went; get a hold of me as soon as you were free and clear from the prison and on your way to Vienna. So I could rest a little easier, you know? Only I didn’t hear from him for a few days. Which got me totally freaked out. I left messages, I sent texts. Nothing. Just silence.”

“And then…”

“And then I put more feelers out. I reached out to other colleagues. People I’d worked with in Europe. Specifically in and around Austria. I knew if anyone could find out if you made it there safe and sound, it would be then. And then they called back and told me that you were alive, but they couldn’t tell me exactly where you were. That I was ‘need to know information’ and I didn’t need to know.”

“So Alcott…”

“He FINALLY got a hold of me. A week later. And he told me what happened in Vienna. How you killed Zurab but ended up getting busted by the cops and thrown in jail. You were going to be there a really long time, and I didn’t want that to happen. You didn’t deserve to be there. All the bad things the Nagazi did? All the horrible shit they inflicted on people? You should have been given a key to the city and a parade in your honour. Even had a day named after you.”

“Whether or not I did the right thing, what we do IS illegal.”

“I didn’t want you rotting away in there. Not for helping people. For getting that kind of trash off the street. And there were selfish reasons, too. For why I wanted you out of there. I already knew I was going to bring Millie to you. It had always been my plan; to take her to her dad before she turned six. And considering you were facing a life sentence, I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. I wanted Millie to meet you. Have a relationship with you. And that couldn’t happen if you were locked up.”

“You’ve been really busy the last five years, haven’t you.”

“I was caught up in a few things,” Esme admits. “ Nothing that ever put Millie in danger. I’d never do that; take a job that could put her in harm’s way. There was no reason to think things would go so wrong with Alessio. I was so close; to getting all the information I needed. Everything had been so easy. Gone so smoothly. If I ever thought anyone would try and hurt her…”

“I never once thought that. That you’d put her in danger. I know how quickly things can go wrong. And if there was no reason to think that the job would go to shit…”

“Like I said, everything had been so easy. It was all running so smoothly. I would have been finished in a week. Two at the most. I don’t know what happened; I don’t know how things went so badly. But I never would have agreed to help Nik out if I even had the tiniest worry that Millie could be hurt. That’s my little girl. My baby. She’s all I had; my only connection to you. I wouldn’t have agreed to anything that could possibly hurt her. I…”

“Esme, you don’t have to defend yourself. To anyone. Let alone me. I’m the last person who’d ever judge you. All the things I’ve done? You really think I’d think less of you?”

“She’s your daughter, too. It would be really easy for you to be angry. Look what happened. Alessio’s family tried to kill us. It’s only reasonable that you’d be pissed about that.”

“I am pissed about that. But I’m pissed at them, not you. I know how much you love Millie. How well you’ve taken care of her. Look how happy she is. How healthy. How fucking smart. That’s not a kid being raised by a shitty mother.”

“She’s my entire world. I waited so long to be a mom. I’d never do anything that would put her in danger. I’d never…”

“I believe you. I’m not accusing you of anything. I’ve never once thought something like that.”

“The other night you were pretty angry. And you asked me how I could ever put her at risk like that. Why I would even go back to the job with her in the picture. You…”

“I didn’t mean any of that. I was pissed. Hurt. I’m an asshole when I’m going through shit like that. I say things I don’t mean. I’ve always been that way. You know that.”

“Still, there had to be some truth to it, right? To your words? There must have…”

“I love you, Esme. I always have. And I’m sorry that I lashed out like that. Said those things. But I didn’t mean them. I was hurt. And I wanted you to hurt too.”

“Well, you succeeded. Because it did. Hurt. I may have deserved to hear it…”

“You didn’t. You’re the last person who deserves it. It was just me being an insensitive prick. That’s something I need to work on. Not lashing out like that. I don’t want to hurt you. That’s the last thing I want.”

“I guess we both have things we need to work on, huh?”

“There’s a list. Or two. And we’ll get to it when everything settles down. For now, can we go back to what we were originally talking about? Alcott? What happened after he contacted you and told you where I was?”

“I couldn’t let you waste away in jail,” she continues. “They would have kept you in there for the rest of your life. So I asked Alcott if there was any way he could pull some strings. Did he know someone on the inside who could help get you out of there? He arranged a meeting. Between me and his boss. I already knew him; from my time in New York when I was doing freelance work. I’d done a few intel jobs for him. Nothing too major. But if anyone could help, I knew it would be him. That’s a man with a lot of power. A lot of people under his thumb.”

“He is NOT the kind of person you should be mixed up with.”

“I had been offered some work. In Abu Dhabi. That involved one of his biggest rivals. So I made a business proposition; I’d hand over all the information I had and the whereabouts of this person in exchange for getting you out of prison. But he’d only agree if you would be the one to take over; take everything I knew and go after his rival and kill him. It was up to Alcott to offer you the deal; do a job for them and earn your freedom.”

“I can't believe you stuck your nose in that shit.”

“Look, I did it because I love you. Because I always have. Nothing changed in those five years. If anything? Missing you like that? Having a baby…YOUR baby…it made me love you even more. I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. Let you rot away in that prison. You didn’t deserve to be there. All you did was take out the trash.”

“I did a little more than that.”

“It was all you? That made all that happen?”

“I just came up with the idea. Alcott had to make it happen. He did the hard work.”

“I don’t know, getting in contact with the likes of his boss? That takes some balls. That’s the last person you ever should have trusted.”

“I didn’t have a choice. I had to get you out of there. And I needed help to make it happen. There was no one else. Believe me, if there had been, I would have asked them.”

“You did all of that? Put yourself at risk? For me?”

“Okay, so you may have shot the ever-loving shit out of Vienna. And came very close to burning the entire city to the ground. But it’s not like you didn’t have help.”

He gives a small chuckle.

“I couldn’t leave you there, Tyler. Just like I couldn’t leave you on that bridge in Dhaka. And I got you out of jail just as much for me as I did for you. Because I knew I’d see you again. Because I wanted you to meet Millie and be a part of her life. Finally get to be her dad. And that couldn’t have happened if you were stuck in there.”

He nods slowly as he considers her words.

Pushing her fingers through his, she brings their joined hands to rest on her collarbone and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You’re not mad, are you? Please tell me you’re not mad. I didn’t bring it up to cause issues. I just figured we’ve been so open and honest with each other and we both want to keep that going and…”

“I’m not mad in the slightest. I have no reason to be. I’m more surprised than anything; hearing you were involved in all that. I never would have connected any of that to you. Not in a million years.”

“At the time it all went down, I didn’t want you to know it was me. I wasn’t ready; for us to come face to face. I was scared, and I was holding on to so much guilt and regret, and I didn’t want those things ruining it, you know? So I asked Alcott to help me. And before your mind goes there, he helped me as a FRIEND. Nothing more. There never was -and never will be- anything between us.”

“He knows better than to even try. He knows I’d kill him.”

“Always the protective one.” She nuzzles the underside of his chin with the tip of her nose. “Always.”

Smiling, he pecks the bridge of her nose, then rests his brow against his. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Everything.”

“I never stopped worrying about you, Tyler. I worried every second of every day. That something bad would happen, and I’d never get the chance to see you again. Or that you’d ever get a chance to see Millie. Or hear me say that I was sorry.”

“But we did get that chance. All of that happened.”

“It shouldn’t have taken so long.”

“We’re not going to talk about that. Getting into the reasons why. Not right now.” Tightening his hold on her, his hand falls to her hip as she presses herself into his side and rests her head on his chest.

“You know how you always say there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for me? Well, it’s a two-way street. Because there’s nothing I couldn’t do for YOU.”

“I know. Believe me, I KNOW.”

“We take care of each other. It’s what we do. It’s who we are.”

“It’s kinda only gone one way. Taking care of each other. At least until now.”

“Well, in all fairness, I’ve never really given you a chance. To take care of me. And that’s mainly because I don’t get in nearly as much trouble as you do.”

He smirks. “I’m not quite sure about that.”

“For what it’s worth, you’re really good at. The whole taking care of someone thing. It’s a whole different side of you. That you don’t let anyone else see. Just me.”

“There’s a lot of those sides.”

“I’m lucky. You’ve always felt comfortable showing them to me. Right from the start of things. In Dhaka. You never hid them from me. You never hid the REAL you.”

“I never felt a reason to.”

Smiling, she reaches up to once more trace the various scars and cuts that decorate his face. Gentle fingertips glide over old and faded, raised and angry, a nail slowly travelling the entire length and curve of his jaw. “I do love you, you know.”

“Yeah…” Giving her hip a gentle squeeze, he leans down to peck her lips. “...I know.”

[ryuichirou]

2 things from 💙 anon!

I hope you guys are well!

Okay so one, we all know... Azul definitely used his tentacles on Idia, you can't say he hasn't, because he has.

So.... Octo Azul and Idia head canons? :3

Also number 2,

I want no glass Trey to step on me

Thank you so much for your care and concern, 💙 anon! We are well :)

Azul abso-fucking-lutely used his tentacles on Idia, come on now, we’ve already established that taco-sex is much better than human-sex! I also think that Idia is the perfect partner for Azul to have sex with in his octopus form.

SO YEAH, the headcanons, why not, let’s go;

I already mentioned it in another headcanon list, but the fact that Idia’s boyfriend has tentacles drives Idia insane, he is suffering because of all the hentai association he has and all the random scenes he remembers at the worst time possible whenever he is with Azul. He also feels intense cringe because of that, like wow, he really got stuck in the most basic hentai trope imaginable, but also one of the most intense ones. He can’t complain to anyone about this, no-no, absolutely impossible. He didn’t even tell Azul about it – Azul found out that tentacles is a hentai trope by himself. And then all of Idia’s reactions suddenly started to make sense. At the same time, Idia really enjoys it, so…

Azul leaves a lot of marks all over Idia’s body, and he is proud of them. The suction cups on his tentacles are very strong, and Idia has a sensitive skin that gets bruises very easily, so sometimes the marks Azul leaves look very intense. One time Azul even got a little bit concerned about it, but he perished that thought very quickly, when he realised that it looked too hot to worry about it.

Idia is light enough for Azul to support his weight with only one tentacle hugging him around his waist. Whenever he suddenly grabs Idia and lifts him up like that, Idia whimpers helplessly, and it drives Azul insane, even though he’s always trying to look composed.

 Azul’s go-to is to secure Idia’s arms and legs with 4 tentacles, hold his chin with another one, so he’s always looking at Azul, have the 6th one enter his mouth, the 7th one – his butt, and that leaves Azul with one free tentacle to push on Idia’s stomach whenever he gets painfully close to orgasm. Azul never uses his human arms when he touches Idia in his octopus form.

Of course, Azul changes Idia’s position from time to time. He plays with his body quite a lot actually, he tends to spin him however he wishes, lifting him up in the air, dropping and catching him, like Idia is a doll. He always catches him though and squeezes him very tightly, but Idia still freaks out and screams when it happens. Azul adores it when Idia is a bit scared, he knows it only makes Idia more aroused.

Like in any male octopus, one of the Azul tentacles hides his penis, and Idia figured which one it and learned to recognize it quite quickly, even though it doesn’t look that different when Azul isn’t aroused. And even though Azul usually doesn’t like being touched, when Idia grabbed the correct one, he got so aroused that he squirted all over him.

Yeah about that, as an octopus merman Azul produces a lot of slimy secretion, ink, semen, something else in this mix, but the point is that it’s usually dark and slippery and some of it is white and Idia is always covered in it, filled with it, and is actively coughing it out for an entire day after sex. It’s actually quite troublesome, but also very hot.

So yeah!

And about the second thing you said… I have zero doubts about it lol at this point I am certain Trey wears glasses just to nerf himself and hold back his intense dominant power. We aren’t ready for Trey.

I’m glad you liked the drawings of him! Thank you for your question, and have a great day.

[cathyun]

Can I request an angsty Beomgyu x female reader scenario where y/n tries breaking up with him bc she doesn’t feel like she’s good enough for him and doesn’t want to hold him back from his career but Beomgyu refuses to let her go?

hold me tight

note: AHHH TYSM FOR THIS WONDERFUL REQUEST !!! i don't think this is as good as my previous works but i hope u enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing it !! pairing: choi beomgyu x reader genre: established relationship, angst, comfort wc: 1.5k warnings: doubts, low self-esteem, lots of overthinking, mentions of break-up, insecurities summary: beomgyu is forced to pick between you and his dreams, was it selfish of him to want both things at once?

Beomgyu is debuting.

He's been training diligently each day, conquering every hard moments. During those moments, you stuck by his side.

Listening to his rants about their new routines, whispering compliments and encouragements when he was feeling less confident about himself. You'd cuddle him in your warm comforting bed when he was tired and drained from practice, his head in your chest as he listened to your heartbeat. When his head were filled with doubts, you were there to remind him of his dreams and why he wanted to achieve it in the first place.

You were there next to Beomgyu, watching and cheering him on every step he took. That's why it was only natural that you're the first person he told about his debut.

The smile he wore was wide and contagious as he knocked to the door of your shared apartment. His heart pounding in anticipation when he heard the familiar sound of your footsteps. As soon as the door opened, your sweet voice greeted him.

"Hey, love. You're home early today, is there anything wrong?" You spoke, concern dripping from your tone. His heart warmed at this, before immediately reminding himself of why he was here in the first place.

Beomgyu greeted you with a hug and a kiss in the cheek, he gently held your hand and ushered you inside. After closing the door, he turned to you, "No, no, everything's alright. More than alright, actually." He replied, voice getting higher due to his excitement.

You noticed this almost immediately and fondly smiled back at him, "Did anything happen?"

He nodded in return, as the two of you sat on the couch of your living room. In an instant, he had his arms around you, sighing in content. "Something happened. Something really big." He lifted his head to see your pretty eyes, only to find out they were already looking at him, filled with tenderness, "It's happening, Y/n. I'm one step closer to achieving my dreams."

It feels like the world stops spinning for a moment. "You mean you're debuting soon?" Your breath hitched, blocking all source of oxygen.

"Yes! I'm debuting soon!" He exclaimed, letting out a huge laugh of relief before rambling, "The company confirmed it earlier. It still feels like I'm dreaming. Maybe I am, but I already pinched myself on the way here so- Y/n...?"

He cut himself off, looking at your face worriedly. You had gone pale, any trace of calmness on your face has now disappeared. This was the exact opposite of what he expected your reaction would be. "Are you okay?"

You nodded, although you looked nowhere near okay. "I'm fine. Just a bit overwhelmed." You nervously laughed it off, he would've left it at that but your tone was different. He could tell you wanted to say more, but couldn't.

And he was right. Inside your mind was a jumbled mess. Thoughts after thoughts appeared on your brain and you couldn't even process anything except for the fact that he was debuting. You should be happy. And you are happy, but a nagging voice from the darkest corner of your brain is telling you how you aren't good enough for him now, how you'll only slow down his process to become a better version of himself.

"Y/n, what's wrong?"

Everything.

"Nothing."

Everything is going wrong. You couldn't think straight.

"You know you can tell me everything, right?"

You took shakily deep breath in.

"I think," You paused, finding the right words, "I think we should stop this."

Beomgyu's ears rang as he felt a pang of sadness wash over him. He sat in shock, hands going slack against your shoulder. "What do you mean?" His heart paced as a thousand of thoughts raced through his mind. Had he done something wrong to make you upset?

You felt your own heart breaking at the sight of him. His eyes flashing a look of grief, confusion, and most of all, sadness. He was asking unspoken questions, but you couldn't bring yourself to answer any of them.

"I just don't think this will work out anymore."

Your bottled up insecurities were winning against your love for Beomgyu. As much as you wanted to stand up for your relationship with him, it seems as if your thoughts were much stronger than you realized.

But Beomgyu does not back down. He was more than willing to fight for this if you are currently incapable of doing so.

"I just- I don't understand? We were... We're happy, right? Did something happen? I'm sorry if I accidentally made you upset, but please. I'm sure there's a way we can fix this?"

The words get caught in your throat and you couldn't speak. As much as you had tried, you just couldn't. Because you know there wasn't anything wrong with him from the beginning, it was because of the way you felt and thought about yourself.

It felt too much to the point you couldn't take it anymore and the tears went straight out of your eyes right away. Beomgyu, always the sweet and attentive partner he is, was quick to hold you in his arms. He could feel you shaking in his hands as your sobs got louder.

"I'm sorry, Gyu." You whispered, voice cracking. He was quick to shush you, pulling away to wipe the tears out of your face.

"It's okay, angel. I'm here. You're okay." He reassured, "Just please talk to me. Don't end things so suddenly when you know we can sort it out."

"I..." You look down, restraining your sobs to let out the words you've been keeping in, "Am I good enough? For you?"

Beomgyu could only look at you with in shock, wondering how that thought could ever cross your mind. "Y/n, angel. You're more than good enough."

"But won't I hold you back from your career?"

"I like performing, Y/n. I like being on stage and being able to sing and dance. But I give it my all because I know you're somewhere in the crowd watching me perform." His eyes were filled with tears threatening to burst out, but he held on, "I wouldn't be here if you weren't by my side."

You sadly smiled, knowing well enough that he was wrong. Even without you, he could still achieve this dream of his without breaking a sweat. He had everything an ideal idol would have, and because of that you felt so small next to him.

You didn't feel good enough to be next to him, because that's Beomgyu. He is simply a big, bright star that would catch the attention of anyone. While you, you're just... simply you. You'd say you're nothing but the darkness that surrounds the star, and Beomgyu would argue that a star wouldn't shine as bright without the dark. He's right.

"Beom, you know how risky it is for an idol to be with someone in secret. If the media finds out, your whole career will-"

"I just want to be with you, Y/n. I want you. I need you." He stuttered, blinking the tears away furiously. "None of it would matter without you."

His voice held so much desperation. He didn't care if he looked stupid, all he wanted was for you to hold on. Because Beomgyu does not know how he would live without you.

He started this dream with you. You were there for him step for step, and he wanted you to be there when he achieved it, too. He was rarely selfish, but he's willing to be selfish for the sake of keeping you.

"Beom..."

"Please just try. I can't let you go." He clings on the small light of hope. Your heart aches.

It's hard, you think, convincing yourself that continuing what you have with him would make him a better person for his chosen career, especially with the way you view yourself. To you, you are nowhere near Beomgyu. But you know he's more than willing to prove those voices in your mind wrong.

"Please..."

With a shaking hand and a mind filled with doubts, you reached out for him. He looked at you teary eyed, before closing the remaining distance between you with desperation.

He clung onto you tightly, afraid that if he let you go, he'd be letting you go forever.

"Promise me you won't let me get in the way of your career."

It's hard not to listen to your thoughts, but you would rather grow and fix yourself together with Beomgyu, than finding an empty bed beside you every morning. Than walking pass each other like strangers without memories of one another. Than feeling grief when you would pass his house or your favorite places to go on dates as the memories overwhelm you.

You know it'll take awhile to fix the doubtful thoughts and insecurities you have, but you're also aware that being with him is something you don't want to be taken away from you. It would be much harder not having him beside you.

With a firm grip on your waist, he whispered the most delicate words of affirmation in your ears, "You're my motivation. You wouldn't get in the way of anything. So please, stay and hold me tight."

[right-there-ride-on]

Figuring out the Context surrounding Funny Valentine

cw: blood, torture, implied rape, discussion about the Confederacy

I was originally going to make a post about nationalism in SBR but to do that I think I need a better understanding of SBR's antagonist; hence this post.

Let's start with the backstory. It's revealed to us late-game, literally during the narrative climax, as Valentine attempts to find the resolve to overcome Johnny's Infinite Spin. What's the difference between regular resolve and dark determination? umm I'll get back to you on that. Anyway, we are treated to a flashback with young Funny on the day a friend of his father's visits Funny and his mother.

To clarify, the friend's name is Captain Valentine. Which means that after he shares the news of Funny's father's death he ends up marrying Funny's mother and becoming his stepfather and giving Funny the last name Valentine.

I'm posting the whole flashback so you'll have the full context of what I'm talking about.

Chapter 87: Ball Breaker (Part 5)

I wanted to try and find out what war this was, so I did some research.

According to JOJOVELLER: Stands (pg. 294), Funny Valentine is 43 years old. SBR takes place in 1890. 1890 - 43 = 1847. Thus Funny Valentine was born in 1847. (Also, I only realized after doing the math, it's stated that the date on the handkerchief is Funny's birthday and it clearly says 1847. Lol)

Funny is clearly stated to be seven years old in the flashback, meaning that Capt. Valentine's visit takes place in 1854.

Keeping in mind how long it took to travel back then, as well as taking into account that it seems somewhat implied Capt. Valentine waited awhile to bring the handkerchief to the family, either with Funny's father until he died or sometime after his burial, I'm going to suggest the date ranges for the war are between 1847 - 1853.

Furthermore, Capt. Valentine mention he is a member of the calvary, which wasn't officially established until 1861.

However, there were temporary calvary units created during times of need, so I'll be looking at those as well.

On wikipedia, the list of U.S. conflicts during that timeframe include:

Texas-Comanche Wars (1836 - 1875)

Mexican-American War (1846 - 1848)

Cayuse War (1847 - 1855)

Apache Wars (1849-1924)

Navajo Wars (1849 - 1866)

However, the conflict is also explicitly mentioned as ending.

Which is why I'm going to suggest Funny's father did not participate in any of the Native American conflicts. That really only leaves the Mexican-American war. To further support this, wikipedia also states that a calvary was raised to fight as well.

What happened to Funny's father during the Mexican-American war likely fueled his xenophobia.

As for the Valentine himself, we know he also fought in a war and received scars in the shape of the American flag. Counting the ones that seem to be bullet holes (possibly), there's 14 that I counted. Why not 13, for the 13 colonies? Or 13 for the flag he uses in Philidelphia? I'm not sure. The only connection I can make is that June 14th is Flag Day.

Chapter 62: Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap

It's a bit harder to place what war Valentine fought in. We know he was in San Diego, but there are actually two versions of why he was there.

One is that, while in Congress (after the war) he discovered Joseph of Arimathea's Map of the Corpse Parts in the British Parliament in 1889. Not knowing what it was, he traveled with a Puritan search party to the first cross on the map in San Diego and obtained the Corpse Heart. All in the party but him died, and he testified that they were caught in quicksand.

Chapter 30: Scary Monsters (Part 3)

The second backstory is that Valentine was with a group of soldiers when they came across a Devil's Palm. Once again Valentine was the sole survivor.

Chapter 67: D4C (Part 2)

This second backstory seems to be more in-line with the Valentine seen in Chapter 62, and this backstory better matches Valentine's scars. Although we know D4C allows Valentine to dimension-hop, we also know that only the base universe has the corpse. These two backstories can't exist together. To keep things simple, I'll chalk up the original backstory as early weirdness and continue with the assumption that the second backstory is the one Araki wants us to pay attention to.

First, let's consider the timeline. Assuming that Valentine indeed served in Congress before running for President, we still don't know if he served in the House or Senate, or even what state he would have represented.

A House term is two years.

A Senate term is six years.

I think someone like Valentine would have shot for the longer term limits, so I'm going to assume he ran and won a seat in the Senate, likely several times. Working backwards from 1890:

He won the presidential bid in 1888 and was sworn in in 1889

Six years prior would have been 1882

Let's say he did a term before that as well, which puts us at 1876.

So, we'll say he started his political career in 1876.

This means any wars he participated in would have had to have been before 1876. The war could have been a Native American conflict, which I think is somewhat likely due to Valentine's troop being positioned in San Diego. However, considering Valentine's scars were received from being captured and tortured by the enemy, and given the shape of them, it's fairly likely he received the scars during the Civil War. Keep in mind though that we don't know whether he received the scars or the Corpse Heart first, which would impact the timeline. I'll continue by assuming he received the scars first.

Noticeably, in the Chapter 67 flashback, Valentine isn't a young man but appears to be an adult. The Enrollment Act of 1863 conscripted all men between 20 and 45 to fight for the Union, but we can't base our age estimation entirely on this because Valentine is die-hard patriot and likely would have volunteered as soon as he was eligible.

So let's say he was 17 during the time of that flashback. 1847 + 17 = 1864. That's during the Civil War timeframe (as the Civil War ended in 1866). I feel safe to say that he fought in the Civil War.

There's another piece of evidence to consider as well, which is the uniform. Unfortunately I am not Civil War historian nor someone with a good eye for design, so I cannot say for certain which side his uniform appears to be from. All we can really see is the dark color and two buttons on the cuff. I'm not completely sure on this, but I think the two buttons may have indicated nicer uniforms, which may have indicated Valentine had a somewhat high rank.

Confederate Formal Uniform Example:

Source: File:The photographic history of the Civil War - thousands of scenes photographed 1861-65, with text by many special authorities (1911) (14782791043).jpg - Wikimedia Commons

Union Uniform Example:

Source: File:General Benjamin Butler Brady-Handy.jpg - Wikimedia Commons

And here's a more direct comparison:

Source: Yankees Civil War Uniform (animalia-life.club)

Or for a compressed version: OnlineResize.club. Resize image, Crop pics, Add instagram effect.

Again, I can't say for certain, and the way that the uniform is drawn doesn't make it completely clear. While the shape of the coat appears to generally resemble the Union uniform, to me it appears the hat is closer to the Confederate Kepi. Knowing what state he was from would certainly help; if we extrapolate that his father fought in the Mexican-American war, then possibly we can infer it was a Southern State, but I also am wary about suggesting that because I'm unsure how much political success a former Confederate could have had in a heavily Republican Congress.

I want to emphasize that none this is certain, but based on the information we have these are my best guesses. If you want to take a crack at it, here's wikipedia's comprehensive timeline of U.S. military conflicts. It's entirely possible he fought and was captured by the native people, which would support his placement in San Diego during the time of his enrollment in the army and would have given him a generally stronger position in Congress to base his platform off of (as opposed to if he had been a Confederate). It's also entirely possible he was in the Union and fought to keep the country together, which I see as in line with his ideals of patriotism and authoritarianism. And as discussed above, it's also possible he was part of the Confederacy, then was absorbed into the Union post-Civil war before beginning his political career. I couldn't find the details to support any one of these over the others.

So, based on all the available evidence, my tentative timeline is this:

Valentine volunteers for the army in the Civil War (1864)

Valentine is captured and scarred (?)

Valentine is re-assigned to training post-war in San Diego (between 1866 - 1876)

Valentine makes his congressional run (1876)

Valentine wins Senate re-election (1876)

Valentine runs for presidency and wins (1888)

At some point in the future, maybe I'll write about Valentine and American Nationalism and all those fun things, but for now this was my attempt at figuring out the specifics of Valentine's backstory and the sort of circumstances he sprung from.

If you got this far, thank you for reading!

[irrlicht-ghostfront]

"Many have speculated what unimaginable force enabled him" And that's the question, isn't it?

I've seen some posts going around on how Alastor is a fraud, and how his powers aren't his own. Most of us agree that he probably made a deal with someone powerful (Eve, Lilith, Roo) in his seven-year-absence. But what about before his disappearance? Everyone only has one soul, and as such, can only make one soul-binding deal, right? Like, Angel couldn't make another deal that involves his soul, because it already belongs to Valentino.

Alastor manifested in Hell, and began toppling Overlords. How? Even if we presume that you are stronger in Hell the eviler/sinful you were in life, all in all, Alastor wasn't the worst of the bunch. Now, information might have changed, but Viv once said Alastor didn't kill without reason (and given his somewhat soft spot towards women, we might be able to deduce the reason), so he still had a somewhat moral compass, even if it was spinning like crazy. Yes, he murdered people, but he could have hardly been the first, so why was he powerful enough to go after Overlords basically immediately? And if he made a deal - he could have, while he had still been alive, made a pact with some eldritch being, those would usually come at the cost of your soul, no?

Him being on a leash is a new thing - if it wasn't, Husk wouldn't have mentioned it. We can also just speculate what Alastor really wants: power? But if it's power that he wants, why did he stop killing Overlords? Was it just to establish his position, and once that was achieved, he stopped? And who would even benefit from a Sinner killing Overlords left and right?

Alastor thrives on chaos, and as far as we know, that's Roo's thing. So if she gave him this power - like what, just like that? After his initial carnage, he didn't stir that much chaos anymore, right? And while he probably took delight in messing things up, if it were up to Roo, it probably wouldn't satisfy her. There's also the issue of us not knowing how powers are attributed after death. I'm not very knowledgable about this, but voodoo deals with spirits closely, no? And we only ever see Alastor call upon small critter minions, instead of "proper" Sinners he made deals with. Did he and the spirits entangle so closely in life that they followed him into death?

Some also pointed out that Alastor freaked out when his mic got broken and that he was powerless without it - I'm not sure I believe that. For one, only the staff itself broke, not the microphone. Second, I think it would've been a focus, rather than the source. So while it breaking surely messed him up, because it wasn't supposed to happen, he doesn't appear worried about it much, after.

Why did he disappear for seven years? Why did he come back? From implications, we can guess he really just vanished, instead of being pubicly defeated. Zestial mentioning "fallen into heavenly arms" was probably really just a rumor that spread around after he went missing - after all, why would Alastor go radio silent if he was still alive?

A deal with Lilith makes sense - why else would Alastor entertain the Hotel? But if it was Lilith, why Alastor, of all people? Lucifer would've been a better option to support his daughter, no? And yes, maybe Lilith was forbidden of contacting her family, but even then, Alastor was her man of choice? And what was the deal, anyhow? Let's say, his end would force him to support Charlie to some capacity, allow her to try the Hotel thing out - what did he get in return? Was he dying, and Lilith saved him? But as a Sinner, Alastor can't truly die, unless he's killed by an angel weapon, no? We don't know when exactly he disappeared, but if it had been during extermination, he would've been labeled "dead" instead of "missing". Also, they all would pester him to learn how to survive an angel weapon, but nobody seems to really care. Did he get more power? Possible, but again, I feel like Husk would've mentioned that somehow, then. Of course, maybe he wouldn't, but still. He noticed Alastor being on a leash, but not increased power? Or had Alastor lost Roo's favour and Lilith promised to return his powers to him? Did he grow to docile for Roo's liking? There's also his Shadow - so far, he's the only character we know with a sentient shadow. He can travel through the shadows - why? Vox being able to travel through electricity makes sense, as he is a TV, but what's got a shadow to do with Radio? And whenever Alastor goes even slightly demon-mode, there are stitches on his body - like a doll would have. If you note, there we can also see his smile being stitched on, so he truly is genuinely unable to not smile. But Alastor is made of blood, at least, and dolls usually don't come with blood packs.

There's no conclusion here, really, as I'm not even sure what I want to say. If you have thoughts about this, let me know? I'd love a civilised talk.