#and then just looking at meat made him sick so now when he’s an adult he simply doesn’t want to eat it because he doesn’t like it

[lieutenant-amuel]

if Valerio doesn’t eat meat, does it mean he’s a vegetarian?

Nope. He just doesn’t like the taste of meat whether it’s pork, beef, chicken, or anything else. But he loves fish and seafood in general so he cannot be considered a vegetarian.

[yanderes-galore]

Scenario in which platonic yandere Bubba Sawyer has a younger sibling who tried to leave the family and start over, but got caught at the last moment, and Bubba is not very happy about them trying to leave.

Poor you is tired of being a cannibal and just wants a normal life... only for your "older brother" to drag you back. Dubious on if you're blood related to them or just kidnapped at a young age since I feel someone blood related may just stay... but I could be wrong! The ending is so... meh... but we all know by now I suck at endings, right?

Bear Trap

Yandere! Platonic! Bubba Sawyer Scenario

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Clingy behavior, Overprotective behavior, Kidnapping, Isolation, Violence, Blood, Cannibalism mentioned but this time not graphically described, Forced companionship.

You were getting tired of this life.

Growing up, you never felt you belonged. You were taught to kill, taught to feast... you were taught to behave. However... you never really considered the Sawyers... family.

Not entirely, anyways.

There was only one you really didn't mind. That was the youngest son, Bubba, your older brother. In a way you guessed you... pitied him, often taking most of the family's abuse. You always looked after him, though.

You always checked in... which must be why he enjoyed you.

You were often around Bubba when growing up. He wasn't like the rest of the family, but certainly wasn't innocent either. His... childish demeanor often brought young you comfort. There were times Bubba acted more like a caretaker around the house with you than your other siblings did.

You were never usually away from Bubba, the youngest of your brothers always sticking by your side. Even now, as an adult, he often searched for you. You could never have alone time without the large Sawyer grappling you in a hug.

You felt so isolated here. No matter what your brother's said, you didn't feel... right. You didn't want to eat people, it often made you sick, but it was what you were taught.

You wanted to leave. In fact, ever since you became an adult you've been planning how to leave. The difficult thing as you were never let off the homestead... despite this... you felt it was time to try your luck.

Pulling yourself from your bed and picking your best clothes, you took what you felt you needed (which wasn't much considering where you are) and left your room. The wood of the house creaked under your feet as you pattered your way down the stairs. You flinch at every sound the house makes... but you need to look natural.

You need to look like you're just taking a walk... then pretend to be a victim of your own family.

You pause when you hear rummaging in the kitchen. Such a noise wasn't new, Bubba or Drayton tended to be in the kitchen preparing meat. The sounds made you desperate to be careful, however, as you pushed gently on the outside door.

Then the noises stop and you nearly feel your heart fall to your stomach.

You realize you'll need to play it casual, standing in the open door as you watch the kitchen. As expected, Bubba looks into the hallway with a confused expression. You clear your head... it's Bubba... you can probably sweet talk him....

You see blood stains on his apron and you grimace, his size making him look intimidating. The only reason you can stand your ground is you grew up with him. Towards you... he's a sweetheart... yet still dangerous.

"Hey, Bubba..." You smile sweetly, leaning against the doorframe. "I just wanted to go out into the field for a bit...."

Bubba doesn't seem to believe you, making a noise of protest before stepping closer. You feel a bit panicked yet swallow your fear. No need to make a scene.

"Come on, Bubba...!" You plead, trying to stay light-hearted. "I'm not a little kid anymore... I can handle myself!"

The unfortunate thing with being close to Bubba is one thing... he can read you. As simple minded as Bubba is, he knows you. In fact... you don't doubt he knows about your distaste for the family.

Along with your rebellious nature... you're the most rebellious one there is in the Sawyers.

So, unfortunately, you can tell Bubba doesn't believe your lie again. You feel yourself practically sweating as Bubba comes closer to stand in front of you. You brace yourself... yet your younger brother just offers a pat on the head.

The affection takes you off guard. You don't understand what he's doing before Bubba reaches for your arm, gently tugging you closer before exiting the house. It's then it clicks.

Bubba either believes you're just taking a walk... or just wants to keep an eye on you. Either way you understand your older brother is coming with you. Such a development suddenly makes your plan so much harder.

Reluctantly you allow yourself to be led by Bubba. The large man proceeds to walk you around the homestead and fields... all while you look for a plan. Quietly you plan a distraction, something to get Bubba to look away.

As the walk progresses, you find yourself growing desperate. You try your best to talk sweetly to Bubba... and for the most part he loosens his grip. You're so close... you keep behaving, keep playing nice...

"You know..." You begin, trying to grab his attention enough. Bubba's gaze glances at you, a curious noise leaving him as he watches you carefully. "You were always my favorite...."

Bubba pauses, grip loosening. He makes a pleased and flattered grunt towards you as you flash a smile. Deceiving him makes you feel a bit bad... unfortunately...

You need to leave...

You stop your walk, keeping up the good sibling persona as you raise your arms. Bubba watches you, suddenly excited at what you're implying. A hug.

"I love you..." you smile, but once you're free...

You ditch.

Your sudden dash takes Bubba by surprise. Due to how fond he is of you it was easy to play him for a fool. You hear a distressed yelp from behind you as you make your way to the roadside.

You ignore the slight emotional pain you get for what you did. Instead you focus on your search for the road through the cornfields. Silently you hope the family truck doesn't pull in...

But you learn you have other problems when you hear more distressed sounds from Bubba behind you.

Your escape attempt quickly becomes a hunt as you try to evade Bubba. Unfortunately, Bubba is not only bigger than you... but faster. Especially without the chainsaw.

You try to keep your hope as you run towards the road. You can just barely see the path as you try to push yourself further. You're so close... so close if you can just lose him...

But your escape attempt was dead in the water the moment Bubba saw you.

Big strong arms quickly grapple you. It's familiar yet in this current moment harsh. You squeal as you're tugged back, nearly falling only to collide with a chest.

You freeze, the familiar smell of blood and possible rot making you quiver. You know who this is... and you're scared. Your heart rapidly thumps as you hear irritated yet relieved grunts and groans behind you.

"Hey, Bubba..." You solemnly greet, only for Bubba to tighten his hold and sling you over his shoulder. You've lost your chance... you don't know when you'll have another one... you just hope Bubba doesn't tell your brothers.

You're carried back like you weigh nothing as Bubba carries you. His grip is tight and bruising... like he's scared to let you go. You don't bother explaining yourself.

Bubba wouldn't understand.

You quietly resign yourself to your fate as Bubba reaches the house. It's quiet and tense between you two. You wonder if he'll hold a grudge... if he thinks you hate him.

You don't... not really... but you struggle to explain yourself as he pulls you upstairs and into your room. You hear him grunt and grumble, yet you can also tell his voice is cracking. You just expect him to lock you in your room like a troublesome child...

Yet Bubba just sits on your bed and keeps you in his lap. You don't move when he places his head on yours with soft grunts. You can't tell what he's thinking....

His grip around you is tight, like you're ensnared. You can't struggle against his much stronger hold as he squeezes you against him. You can tell your escape attempt affected him... but he wasn't going to hurt you.

Instead, he acts as a bear trap as he holds you tight...

Treating you like a trapped animal caught trying to run to freedom.

[idanceuntilidie]

Honestly I have no idea if this is good but it sat so long in my docs... Anyway enjoy and Im gonna take a shower :3 gn reader x yandere catboy warnings: mentiones of yandere behaviour and murder

„My little piece of heaven”

Your fingers gracefully typed the document that you have worked on for a good few weeks smiling proudly. The end of this horrible work is so near, the victory sweet on your tongue.

A loud crash followed by “waaah! y/n!” pulled you out of your thoughts. You cringed at the sound of glass shattering, the painful noise sending shivers down your spine. You exhaled deeply, collecting your thoughts and rethinking your life choices. Hoisting yourself up from the couch you walk to the kitchen to see what had been broken. AGAIN. You liked living alone, at first. After a few months it got really tiring, your head was too loud, music and TV didn’t help much, of course you did hang out with your friends but you always ended up being so tired by the end of the meeting. They even rarely visited you. You were slowly getting sick of yourself, so like a rational adult you decided to go to the therapist to see how you can get better. He gave you some pills, and you two agreed to meet every few weeks. Your head was much quieter but then you just felt lonely.

This time you turned to your friends, and one of them, Ana, said that it would be a good idea to adopt a hybrid. You weren’t confident that it was such a good idea but gave in. You always liked cats, so adopting a cat hybrid was your goal.

You were met with a pair of big glossed over green eyes in the kitchen and you sigh. Carefully you crouch next to the broken cup and the boy. You still can’t believe you both are the same age, he is much smaller and sometimes acts like a baby. “Y/NNNNNN what took you so long?” he whimpered, wiping the tears that had stained his cheeks. They were rosy red, just like his nose and the area around his eyes. You could tell he was crying for some time. You felt guilt boiling in your stomach, so you started to clean the mess he made.

That’s when you noticed the blood.

Cursing under your breath you look at him again, just to see him clutching one of his hands tightly. The crimson liquid seeping into the pretty beige and pink sweater of his. Slowly turning it red. The sight and smell of blood makes you dizzy, but you still ask for him to show his hand to you. He does it almost immediately, eyes filling with tears and lips quivering.

“Oh Gosh Amaris, you are hurt! Why didn’t you say so earlier?” “Wah! I am so sorry Y/N, I didn’t want to worry you even more..” you wiped the tears that were now again streaming down his cheeks. Amaris visibly relaxed when your hand made contact with his skin.

You found Amaris on the street, he was weak,, cold and beat up. You took him in and took great care of him. You two made a deal that when he gets better he will go, look at you guys now. He never left, so you could say you adopted a hybrid. He wasn’t the strongest or the biggest but he was really sweet. You can’t help but wonder how in the world he survived on the streets.

You help him clean the wounds. 

He couldn’t really stomach the sight of blood all that well so you tried your best to tell him stories or talk with him in general which helped a lot.

He smiled and giggled, cheeks dusting with p

There was a part of you that missed being alone, but it was nice to have some company.

“The fuck you mean you couldn’t kill em?!”

Amaris hissed. 

There was a panicked muffle on the other side, someone desperately tried to explain themselves.

“Shut the fuck up, what do I even pay you for you useless bag of meat?”

He groans circling around the room. How can people that he himself hired be so utterly useless? The floorboards creaked under his weight, and he froze. Nothing. He went back to circling. Well, nothing if you don’t count the desperate crying on the phone, which slowly but surely starts to get on his nerves. 

“If you won’t get rid of them until dawn you can say bye bye to your family.”

He hung up, his hands gripping the phone, breaking it in half and throwing it out of the balcony. The echo of it crashing Getting rid of the evidence, it is important, he doesn't care about the cops but you. God knows what would happen if you found out his little secret. His little mate needs to stay as dumb and obedient like always. Amaris walked back into your shared apartment, straight to your bedroom. He didn’t need the light  to see your sleeping form. You looked adorable like always, he crouched next to your bed. Adorable. He liked watching you when you slept, when he stared at you for longer he could catch what he was missing during the day. The color of your lips, your pretty little eyelashes. The moles on your body and face. Little scars he made, or you got by accident. He also likes to kiss those, the excitement that you could wake up and see what he is doing spurring him on in his actions. There is no fun without risk.

Amaris smiled at you, his little piece of heaven. Only his forever and ever.

[sinsinsininning]

Can i request a luffy x fem reader who's his childhood best friend and they're both as dumb and hyperactive as each other (she followed and stayed him when he started his pirate journey) and they also like each other but arent together and theyre just two puppies in love

I love dumb idiot x dumb idiot, with a smidgen of oblivious mutual pining. I’m keeping this to pre time skip and kinda vague timeline wise. Keeping this as SFW since you didn’t specify just to be safe.

Hope you like it ✨

—————

You’d grown up attached to his hip, returning with him to Dandan’s house after saving him from drowning. He’d fallen off a bridge he’d made and into the fast river, his elder brothers, Sabo and Ace, rushed to help him. But you’d been faster, watching the trio from the shore and being a great swimmer/fisherman.

His brothers had been so grateful they’d offered you protection and dinner at their home, your own family was broken up by war and violence just like theirs so you accepted. And while Dandan hadn’t been happy about another mouth to feed, she’d thought having a young girl around would help the three wild boys settle down and act better.

It didn’t.

Everyone was dismayed to learn you were just as crazy as Luffy and equally stupid. Though you both had your brilliant moments and emotional intelligence, time and time again proved that though wisdom was chasing you, you were faster.

That’s how it’s been as kids, your adventures so intertwined Luffy couldn’t remember a time you weren’t by his side. Even Garp mistakenly called you his grandkid half the time and never held back his training or punishment on you either.

As you got older, your ambition remained unchange. You wanted to see Luffy become King of the Pirates, which is why you were the first to join his crew. Over time as your crew gained more members, you were a steady pillar of loyalty.

Loyal to your crew, your captain, and your captain’s stupid ass.

Some examples of your daily hourly conversations:

“If you could only eat one food for forever what woul-“

“Meat.” Luffy cut you off.

“Too broad be more specific.” You smack his chest lightly, it’s late at night and you’re both stargazing on the main deck.

“Cooked meat.” Luffy said after thinking a moment. “You?”

“Hmmm Ice cream. Or potatoes.”

“Mmmm now I’m hungry. Lets ask Sanji for a snack.” Puffy starts to stand but you yank him back down.

“Can’t remember, he’s still mad at us for putting a regular carrot in the bin with the baby carrots so they’d have adult supervision.” You laugh together as he lays still, the only time he can be still is if it’s with you.

Or.

“Nothing to see here,” You whistle lowly, trying to keep Nami’s attention on you as you whiddle. “Love being normal. Peak ordinary! That’s me, heh no problems here. No one’s ever been this average.”

“Are you sick or so- GODDAMN IT LUFFY!” She cuts herself off to try and whack your captain on the head, but it was too late, he’d already grabbed her slice of cake and ran off. The red head throws her book at you as you follow after him.

He saved you a forkful, the rest was gone the second he started running, but for you. For you he saved a bit.

Or.

“We didn’t come here to make friends.” Zoro says as he holds his blade to an enemy captain after a short skirmish.

“We came here to make Best Friends.” You interjected.

“Yeah!” Luffy gave you a thumbs up.

“Shut up you idiots or I’ll slice you!” Poor Zoro’s blood pressure was insane with the two of you.

Or.

“I’m not surprised you’ve gotten a bounty.” Garp sighs, tired eyes locked on Luffy. “But I expected better from you!” He rounds on you, shoving his finger in your face accusingly.

“Shishishi! Well that’s your own fault, nothing to do with me.” You and Luffy laugh as Garp chases after you. The old man doesn’t miss the way, Luffy looks back to ensure you’re still stride for stride with him or the way he takes the heated blows aimed for you.

But.

Overtime, your feelings are softer and softer for him, but you have no clue what this means. You notice the little things he does for you, the things he’s always done for you only. You watch him listen intently to Sanji’s flirting advice -that no one really asked for- and try not to feel weird about it. It’s only when Nami finally just announces that you’re both in love that you finally understand. A little.

“Duh.” Luffy says when she tells the crew.

“Yeah of course we love each other.” You agree wholeheartedly, but a small part of you wonders if that’s what she meant. Your suspicions are confirmed when she groans exhaustedly.

“No, you guys are IN love with each other.” Ussop says, trying to help her out.

“Huh.” Luffy says contemplating it, you don’t say anything for once. You don’t feel embarrassed, you never do really, but you do feel curious and warm. “Like married people?”

“Jumping the gun a little there, but yeah.” Nami says, feeling a little accomplished now.

“I don’t know about that.” You answer honestly, cocking your head as you literally roll the idea around in your mind. Luffy isn’t glaring at you, he couldn’t glare, but he’s certainly making a face.

“It makes sense.” Luffy announces, staring hard at you. “I mean I don’t wanna marry Hancock.”

“But you know that doesn’t mean you wanna marry each other.” Ussop interjects.

“Yeah it does, she just needs to ask.” Luffy says like it’s obvious, which frustrates his crew, except you and Robin of course. You aren’t even shocked by his answer, it did make sense, you didn’t want to date Sanji despite him asking multiple times. But if Luffy asked you wouldn’t say no.

“Luffy you know it’s traditional for the man to ask the woman, right?” Robin asks gently, though she knows the answer.

“Huh? Then why is Hancock always asking me?” Luffy looks to you for an answer, you shrug just as confused as him.

“No clue, i don’t think I’ve ever met a married person now that I think about it.”

“Huh me either, I’ve never noticed. Shishishi.” You and him laugh again, but this time his hand entwines with yours.

“God you’re impossible.” Nami shouts, stomping off.

“Those two are made for each other.” Ussop rolls his eyes as you and Luffy start talking about wether it would be better to be a bird or a fish.

“Yes, isn’t it lovely.” Robin sighs as she watches you.

[writing-whump]

Can't stop throwing up

Sick feverish Isaiah with Arnie during a sleepover. Warning for emeto.

Arnie was so excited about tonight.

Could you celebrate the third week in a row that your oldest brother stayed over from Friday to Saturday for a sleepover?

Yeah, he should be getting a social life. But this was Isaiah they were talking about. Every new tradition, habit or event with him was a success in Arnie's book.

Things were going great. Hector and Isaiah weren't fighting, Isaiah was making new memories with all of them, they were getting along great.

Okay, so maybe Isaiah and Hector were both a bit overcareful, trying not to fight so much their conversations were rather shallow...and Isaiah wasn't exactly sharing much about his pack or life or studies or work...and they haven't exactly talked about anything that mattered for the last two times- but hey, they could use a breather, right?

There was the stuff with the reveal, the car accident, Hector's injuries, so basically Isaiah always came through for them in a crisis. They didn't need to create more tension by talking about heavy things when they could relax and discuss movies, right?

Arnie definitely didn't want to kill the mood. And any time they spend together they got to know each other better, right?

Right?

Arnie ordered takeout so they wouldn't have to worry about food. Isaiah loved cooking, but boy did it take time. Everything had to be perfect and cut to tiniest pieces and patiently waited for.

Arnie and Hector cooked 20 minutes long recipes tops. Throw it into the pan, add whatever is currently in the fridge and tada.

So Arnie figured out the shortcut, let the robot vacuum cleaner run the place clean and waited entirely patiently and without looking at the clock for 6 pm to come.

Isaiah came exactly on time, as usual. "Hey, kid."

Arnie didn't run to the door like a kid, mind you. He came slowly and with dignity, like an adult. "Isaiah!" He tried not to shout or smile too loud. His enthusiasm might become overwhelming at this pace.

The wolf hang his coat, trying to act more at home each time he came.

Arnie sneaked in a quick hug before revealing the dinner he prepared.

Isaiah looked...relieved at the sight. It made Arnie to take a second look, noticing how pale his oldest brother was.

"Hector has a pack meeting. He will be joining later," Arnie said, moving to get a plate for Isaiah for the Italian food and salad he ordered before the older could. He must have been tired to not manage to do it first.

"Right. Guess, it's you and me for tonight's movies, then."

"Go sit in the living room. I'll get it," Arnie said. "Hector might show up around 10 or something. He doesn't like taking calls during the meet. A definition of unavailable."

Another weird thing. Isaiah went to sit down as asked, not insisting to help.

Arnie brought both their plates, spaghetti and salad and meat, joining Isaiah on the couch. "Long week?"

Isaiah blinked in confusion. "Hmm? No. Not really. Maybe." He took a hesitant bite from the food as if to stop himself from other noninformative answers.

"Exams all finished?"

"Yeah, it was okay."

"Planning something for the summer?"

"Oh, just some work maybe. I got this practicum about urban structures creating cohesion in cities. Some wolf meets. We will probably go to a sea somewhere, don't know how Seline's family schedules look yet."

So leaving his week free for meddling and potential conflicts between packs, the weekly meets and something for school.

It was also hard to wrap his head around Seline's family schedules. Someone with parents to consider that they liked and that Isaiah wanted to get along with as well.

Made harder by the fact Arnie yet had to meet the girl and assess how truly fitting or even good she was for his brother.

Girls always separate brothers, don't they? They were separated for too long to girls doing the demages now.

Isaiah quietly ate his food, not asking back. Eyes towards the bowl like it was interesting. Or like he was tired.

Arnie tried to wiggle the conversation towards what happened last two weeks. No results. Isaiah was still as dodgy as always, tired or not.

They finished their food, sun slowly setting behind the windows.

Arnie had three movies prepared and was ready for a discussion, since the two of team knew most famous movies or classics and rewatched them just for the commentary. But Isaiah was happy to settle on the first option of the cult movie Fatal Attraction.

Arnie got lost in the plot and the atmosphere, curious what the more horrific parts of the movie would be like with Isaiah there...

Isaiah wasn't following much. His eyes were glassy and drooping. He leaned his head back and to the side, which was a change from his usual uptight and upright sitting.

Arnie wasn't sure what to make of it, when Isaiah's eyes fell shut, head lolling to the side.

Ah. So that's what it meant. He carefully saved that information up for later in his mental file.

Isaiah was breathing slow and loud against thr backdrop of the movie, the lights making his skin look even paler.

Arnie lowered the volume and snuggled closer to lean his head against Isaiah's shoulder. Still wasn't such a bad night. He could count it as a win that Isaiah relaxed enough to fall asleep.

***

The more scream-intense parts towards the end of the movie turned out to be a challange. It started to rain and Arnie couldn't hear anything with how quiet it was.

Each louder sound made Isaiah wince in his sleep and grumble something. Arnie soon gave up, shutting the TV off.

He went to fetch himself some tea with milk, feeling cozy listening to the rain. Isaiah was soundly alseep, breathing a bit erratically under the blanket Arnie threw over his curled up form.

It was almost 10 pm and no traces of Hector. Delaney, Hector's second was the one to text Arnie the meet was probably going to drag tonight.

Ah well.

A few muffled coughs interrupted his thoughts. Arnie poured the boiling water over the tea, leaving it to brew to go peek into the living room.

"Hey, you waking up, sleepyhead- holy shit!"

The coughs weren't just coughs. Isaiah was propped up on his elbow, coughing up pale brown pieces of their dinner over the sofa and the floor.

Arnie exclaimed, running to his side. He had to sidestep the puddle forming under Isaiah's head.

Isaiah moaned. Like actually, pitifully moaned, back arching as more vomit came up. His eyes were barely open, like he was still half asleep.

"Jesus, man. Hey, Isaiah? You with me?" Arnie nervously put a hand on his arm, a little out of his depth in face of such sickness from his neat, controlled and never to be seen sick brother.

Isaiah spit at the ground, before slowly sitting up, rubbing at his face. "Arnie? What...what happened?"

"Do you still feel sick?"

"Sick- what-?" Isaiah frowned, letting go of his face to look around and gasped in horror. "Christ, did I just- I'm so sorry, Arnie, I didn't-" he cut himself off with a burp at the sight of the mess.

He pressed a hand against his mouth but Arnie could hear the liquid rushing up his throat and splatter through his fingers with a force. A gush of vomit dripped down his chin on his white bottom up.

"Okay, man, think we should get you into the bathroom," Arnie said, surprised he managed something coherent with how shocked he was. It happened so fast, his mind was still catching up.

Arnie took Isaiah under the elbow, helping him manevour around the puke covering where he was lying on the sofa.

Isaiah wobbled on the way, stopping for a second to catch his breath. "God, aww." He pressed a hand to his stomach from the clean side. Another burp made him speed up though.

The sick wolf fell to his knees in front of the toilet and immediately heaved, whole body shaking with the wave of vomit that rushed out.

Arnie winced, kneeling down next to him to put a hand on his back. What the hell just happened? Did Isaiah not notice?

Isaiah folded over with the next retch, a guttural horrible sound that echoed through the whole bathroom. A far cry from the earlier inconspicuous coughs.

"Did it just hit you out of nowhere? Was it the food?" Arnie asked in his daze. "We had the same thing and I feel fine..."

"Urgh," Isaiah belched, face almost completely inside the toilet. The distinct sound of liquid hitting water followed right after.

Arnie rubbed his upper back, horrified how much it moved under his fingers as Isaiah's stomach contracted, back heaving and moving in waves with the sickness pouring out of him.

Isaiah's dirty shirt was complete transparent with the sweat. Arnie cupped his neck, hissing at the searing heat coming off him. "Shit, you are burning up."

Isaiah gasped for breath, finally lifting his head and pushing the flush bottom. "I'm so sorry. I didn't realize I was sick, I wouldn't have come." There was saliva and puke all over his chin.

Arnie grabbed the roll of toilet paper and handed it to him. "You didn't realise you were feeling off?"

"I was- thanks-" Isaiah cleaned himself up with shaky fingers. His complexion wasn't just pale but sickly green at this point. Arnie could count all the veins in his cheeks and around his eyes.

"I felt a bit off, but thought it was just stress." He slumped against the wall, taking quick sharp breaths.

"Was your week so bad?" Arnie took the crumbled paper from Isaiah's hands that went limp by his sides, throwing them out into the toilet. He was getting fed up by this mysterious work problem.

"No, not that..." Isaiah closed his eyes, a red flush forming over the top of his visible cheek. "'s usually when I come here, that my stomach hurts, that's normal," he mumbled.

Arnie gasped, looking away. His chest hitched painfully at the words, like someone poked him under the ribs enough to leave a bruise.

He didn't have time to work over the new fever confessed secret. Isaiah's throat bobbed dangerously, a low gurgling sound coming from his stomach. He wrapped his hand around the organ, groaning quietly. "I should go home. I don't feel so good."

Isaiah tried to stand. Arnie quickly grabbed his hand. "Where do you want to go in your state? You are delirious with fever and about to throw up again. You can't drive."

Isaiah swayed, the yank of Arnie's grip bringing him down to the floor again. He squeezed his eyes shut, bowing forward. "I shouldn't be here when I'm sick-"

"It's okay. I don't care about that. You can totally stay here, come on."

Isaiah opened his mouth to answer and a sick burp came up, ending with a gag.

Arnie took him by the arm with both hands to steer him over the toilet just in time for Isaiah to heave up a mouthful of puke.

His back jolted with a hiccup and he moaned. Arnie could see his stomach muscles falling inside as he heaved, a much thicker and stronger wave sputtering out.

"God," Isaiah groaned, another surge of vomit coming up. He barely had time to breathe.

"Okay, okay. Just breathe and let it out. It will over soon." Would it? He had never seen anyone throwing up so much.

Isaiah's head started to sink towards the rim so Arnie quickly put his palm in the way, helping him to lean back as he flushed the toilet, reminded of the terrible heat by the touch.

"We need to cool you down, your fever is too high." He got up to put one of the big towels into the sink and wet it with cold water.

He offered it to Isaiah who buried his face in the towel, while Arnie worked on the bottoms of his soiled shirt, finally wiggling Isaiah out of it. "There we go."

Isaiah let out a quite whine as Arnie pulled the shirt from one arm and then the other. He was swaying even sitting and propped up against the wall like that, panting for breath. "I'm so sorry." His eyes were glittering and the fever flush stood out against his skin like a sunburn.

"You don't need to apologize. You are sick, it's not your fault." Arnie balled the shirt up and threw it on the floor before taking the towel for himself. Isaiah couldn't even hold it to his face, hands limp and useless.

Arnie tapped the wet towel against his cheeks and chin, then forehead, before draping it around his back and neck. Let the cold seep through a little.

Isaiah shivered, hugging his arms around himself before suddenly pitching forward with a heave.

Barely making it over the toilet, he projectile vomited another thick wave. It came in quick violent bursts that jolted his whole frame.

"You are okay. You are going to be alright, just get it up," Arnie repeated, a ting of panic creeping into his voice. He bit down at his fingernails on his left forefinger, trying to shake the claustrophobic pressure on his chest away. There was also some at the back of his head, the kind of stressful strain that came before migraines.

"H-hey," Isaiah sput into the water, folding his arms over the rim to hold himself up. "You doing okay?" He sounded so tired, voice all scratchy from the bouts of puking.

"I'm fine," Arnie protested, shifitng closer so he could hide his face against Isaiah's sweaty back without any weight. "You are j-just so sick- I-I-" He cut himself off, corners of his mouth pushing downwards without his permission.

"It's going to be okay," Isaiah mumbled. He lied his head on his hands over the toilet, looking at Arnie from the side. "Gonna pass in- buuurp - a bit. Don't worry."

Arnie bit his lip, guilty that Isaiah was the one comforting him.

Isaiah gave him a weak smile, before wincing as another gag had him turning his head between his hands to vomit yet another gush of puke into the toilet. Like a source of endless liquid.

Arnie hated his eyes were burning and that Hector wasn't here and that he didn't notice sooner and that Isaiah didn't notice cause he always felt sick when coming to visit them- he bit back a sob forming in his throat.

"I'm gonna be right back," he promised, bolting out of the bathroom.

Some of the hot tears escaped down his cheeks, but he didn't pay them any mind. He grabbed his phone, dialing up Hector's number.

His second brother took it on the third ring. "Arnie, this better be an emergency or I swear-"

"Isaiah is sick," Arnie interjected in a tiny voice. "Like can't stop vomiting kind of sick. Please, come home?"

There was a stunned silence.

"I'm on my way."

[nicolos]

stew

The sad part of it is really that it takes Nile two months to realise she’s never seen Andy cook.

“Wait,” she says, “what do you mean she’s not allowed to cook?”

Andy just shrugs, perfectly unhelpful as she loves to be. The Andy sitting across the kitchen table from Nile is a far cry from the woman who shot her in Afghanistan, and not just because she’s now mortal and prone to problems like hangovers that last and back pain. More importantly: she looks less tired, somehow, hasn’t made fun of Nile about her Cross again, and gets a sick sort of satisfaction from watching Nile flounder over the important things, like which famous historical figures her new friends-slash-family-slash-anti-dying-club had slept with or the weird set of unspoken rules and laws and tripwires they all have built in that everyone else can see and Nile can’t. Yet.

“It means Andromache has been banned from our kitchens,” Nicky says coolly. Joe raises his brows, probably at the full name, but he’s grinning.

Nile ignores him, because he’s an instigator, and says, “Why not? Andy, what’d you do?”

“Who said I did anything?”

Nile narrows her eyes at her. That tone of voice elicits many things: trust is not one of them. Joe outright snickers.

Nicky says, voice low, “You know what you did.”

Joe mouths, “She does,” and then says out loud, “It’s not so bad, Nile. Nicky’s banned from football. And I’m not allowed to do any plumbing.” He says this like it’s a bad thing.

Nile suspects that they’ve also put an unspoken ban up against her audiobooks. Every time she puts one on doing her laundry, somebody comes up to speak with her, until she’s forgotten all about it. She also keeps losing the old iPod she found with the books on it, and whenever she finds it, it needs to be charged.

It’s ridiculous is what it is. She says so. “Andy is four thousand years old.” Andy raises her brows but doesn't comment one way or the other. Joe makes a so-so face, which really just means Nile’s wrong. She soldiers on. “I don’t care how bad she is, she should be able to cook!”

Andy shrugs around her bowl. “I can cook.”

“We’re all adults. We should have a roster. It’s not fair that it’s just Joe and Nicky.” Of them, Nile herself is probably the weakest: she can make a few comfort foods, but she’s never mastered the art. She’d like to, though. Part of it is wanting to hold onto the food she remembers before she can’t get it anymore and she’s forgotten, and part of it is that it’s just practical. But left to her own devices, she just eats whatever’s there. A roster will help.

And it wouldn’t feel right to leave Andy off it. Nile tells herself this is about fairness and house chores and not about the strange panic that takes over her whenever she imagines never eating her mom’s good again and then remembers that (a) Andy looks like she's maybe five years younger than her mom, and (b) she, too, is mortal. Which is dumb. It’s not like she thinks of Andy as anything like her mother. If anything she’s the bad influence friend everyone’s mom warns them about, but who everyone wants to—

Anyway.

“I don’t mind,” Andy says. Nile turns to Nicky.

Nicky says, “If you wish,” and then looks at Joe like he’s expecting Joe to speak up on his behalf.

Joe grins. “I have no objections.”

Andy’s turn on the roster comes up two days later. She spends the morning out of the house and comes back with two bags full of groceries. When Nile goes to help her with it, bewildered, it turns out one of the bags is half filled with low shelf life candy, and that Andy doesn’t need help, though she looks amused that Nile would offer.

Then she gets to it. She’s not what Nile was expecting, which was someone a little unsure of herself in the kitchen. She chops fluidly and fast, as good with a knife on meat and veg as she would be with it as a weapon, and she moves like she knows what she's doing.

But what she’s doing is—strange. At first glance, the dish is beef, with thick chunks of meat cooking in enough oil to thrill her grandma. But then she throws chunks of apple in alongside the potato. As it cooks, she starts rolling out some dough, with more eggs than make sense. Pie, Nile thinks, even if it's not a pie she knows of, but she rolls it out by hand into sheets of pasta, all while stirring the beef concoction. A bar of the dark chocolate she's munching on goes into the pot, followed by a concerning quantity of nuts. When she grabs an orange, Nile thinks it's for a snack, but she peels the whole rind into a neat spiral and tosses the rind into the pot before offering Nile a slice. When the pasta is cut, she just—starts flipping the sheets into the pot.

Nicky looks into the kitchen as he passes by and starts muttering to himself in Italian. When he opens his mouth, Andy only says, “If you’d rather do it yourself,” and Nicky walks away.

Oh, Nile thinks. “You won’t get out of the roster just by making bad food, you know,” she says, though she suspects she probably will. If it's terrible, she figures she’ll get takeout. She already saw Joe surreptitiously hide a bag of something in the back of the fridge. She hopes he got enough for her.

Andy only winks at her. Nile sits down.

In go raisins, cashew nuts, sticks of cinnamon, the stalk of some plant she doesn't even recognise, more garlic than even Nicky uses, and a whole tablespoon of turmeric. Then come the chillies: long, with the heads sliced off, thrown in whole. When the room starts smelling like heat, she cools it with cups of milk. More vegetables follow: large chunks of carrot and beet, strips of cabbage and slices of—ugh—eggplant go in along with a store-bought sauce she can't read the label of, spoons of cream, a quarter of a bottle of alcohol she's pretty sure isn't meant to be used to cook with, and—somehow—even more chocolate, and some of her favourite morning cereal.

This is the point at which Nile decides to stop watching. It feels a little like tearing herself away from a car crash, but she makes herself go look for her iPod. She finds it between two cushions of the sofa twenty minutes later, at 3%.

Andy calls Nile in to help carry the food out when she's done, half an hour later. Nile’s a little bit afraid of the monster she's created as she looks into the pot. It looks less than appetising, a deep brown that looks thick and has things floating in it and cheese melting on top. On the sides of the pot, she can see bright red oil floating in place.

When she carries it out, her iPod is already gone from where it was charging by the kitchen table. Nile glares at Joe and Nicky, who look back innocently (Joe) and distractedly upset (Nicky). It has to be Joe, she figures.

Andy serves them the frankenstew in deep bowls with toasted slices of Nicky’s last sourdough next to it. With no ceremony at all, she grins and says, “Dig in.”

Then, without waiting for the rest of them, she starts eating.

A little relieved that Andy isn’t going to leave them to eat it alone, Nile takes a small, tentative bite.

The dish is—not bad. She takes another bite, and then another.

The stew is delicious. Nile can feel her arteries clogging with every bite, immortality or no immortality, but she thinks she doesn't even care. It's hot enough to leave her tongue prickling after just a couple of bites, but she wants to keep eating it. It's sweet and salty and sour; the meat falls apart in her mouth but the nuts crunch. The pasta is not really pasta at all, thicker and softer and melting in her mouth like soft bread. The broth is creamy and thick, and none of the vegetables are too mushy or draw too much attention to themselves. It's the best thing she's ever eaten, she thinks. She never wants to eat anything else again.

When she looks up, she must look a little guilty, because Joe pats her arm comfortingly. “I know,” he says.

Andy hums around a mouthful and says, slowly, “It’s not as good as I remember it.”

Nicky looks despairing. He’s staring into the bowl like it insulted his mother. Maybe it has. “That’s what you said last time,” he says.

Nile considers things like nostalgia and pride and cholesterol and having more of the pot for herself, and slides Andy’s half-full bowl towards herself. “You’re off the roster, Andy. And you’re banned from cooking again,” she says authoritatively.

“I thought making bad food wouldn’t get me off the roster?”

Nile nods. This is worse.

Joe grins, ducks into the kitchen, and comes back with the box he had hidden in the fridge, which now that Nile looks closely says Andy Dinner. Andy laughs at her as she eats it.

Nile decides to stop looking for her iPod.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

I love the idea that creed likes pets from people he considers to be pack, but i would love to hear what kinds of affection you think he likes?

do you think he likes gifts? touch? how does he return those sorts of affections?

Okay, platonic yandere affection for Sabretooth headcanon time!

• This guy loves physical affection. Pets, hugs, cuddling, sleeping in a nest or bed or sprawled in the same room together, nuzzling, grooming hair and combing it and braiding it, fist bumps, large pats on the back like getting hit by a bear, bear hugs, he craves touch, he only wants it from his obsessions/pack, though (so definitely Logan, possibly Remy, Laura, and Reader, and maybe some of the adults or teens he views as pack or pack-adjacent)

• Appreciates gifts. You took time out of your day or night to get him something or make it or cook it or prepare it, so he appreciates it, if not loves it or cherishes it or stores it safely in his room (den) where no one but him is allowed to see it or touch it. You got him some gloves or a fur/fluff-limed coat? He's wearing it proudly, warmly, and gets mad if anyone tries to tear it or get blood on it. You found some bones on your walk and wanted to give them to him? If he can, he's collecting them in a special container, or even wears them as a necklace. You made him a cake for his birthday? With frosting and buttercream and handmade decorations? He will savor each bite, he is making sure you eat a piece too, and will not share unless it's with someone else he trusts or views as pack (family). You made a painting of him? He's putting it up in his room (den), or in his own safe house, it's being kept pristine and dust-free and protected from aging, and he will show you different forms of art He's learned over his near two hundred years of existence...

• If you spend time with him, he looks forward to it. You are on the same team, and have been teamed up for a mission? Ha, looks like you two get to bond a little! You went on a hunting trip with him, instead of staying out of the rain and staying warm? Well, he's making sure you both get something, and will lrudky display whatever you catch, while cooking the meat (will also collect pecans and walnuts with you or even some wild berries when those are in season). You ask him if you two can go to a museum? He's taking you, he's keeping away anyone who stares too long at you two, and might even steal a piece later if you seemed to really like it...

• Call him "pretty good", "a friend", or "dad", amd you're not getting rid of him, EVER. He loves hearing praise, especially ehen it comes from you. You call his claws "awesome" and "so sharp, that's wicked!" and "shiny", he's purring, and possibly helping you maintain your nails/claws/talons just as well as his. You say he's "a master of the hunt", "a clever hunter", "strong as a bear", or anything that compliments his wits or strength or hunting abilities, he's preening at it, chest puffed out and a fanged smile on his lips. You say something such as "You're coat is so cool, and soft!" or "your hair is well-kept", or "huh, those are sturdy boots", he's prideful about it, because he takes great pride in his appearance and taste in looks. (Does he care what others think? No, not most; but you or the rest of his pack/pride? Yes, he cares what y'all think, and he'd only take criticism from y'all)...

• Would he return any of these affections? Yes. 11/10. You feel down or upset or scared? He's tryi g to comfort you by reminding you how strong you are, how ferocious in battle, that their words don't matter; and if they hurt you or abused you, they won't be around to do it again... You feel nervous about your appearance? He will tell you deadpan that yes, you appear fine, you look nice, your piercing isn't weird, now let's go annoy Logan. You seem to be sick or out of sorts or worried? From everything he's remembered and memorized about you and what you like, he's getting you a gift. Something good for dinner, check. Something shiny, check. Maybe some new movie to watch, check. A bit of a torture session done to an enemy of yours, check. He doesn't mention that last part unless he's certain you won't freak out... initially, at least... You need hugs or you're too cold and in the snow or you aren't able to walk back and are wounded? He's embracing you close and tight and possessively; he's bundling you under his coat with him and wrapping it tight around the both of you; you're being picked up and held close and not let down until you're somewhere safe and being checked over...

(This was fun! Thank you, @hermesserpent-stuff !)

[blarefordaglare]

this post used to be linked universe memes but because I don’t know where I got it from and want to give credit from now on instead I’ll just put a cr*cliff I made

TW: None, unless tying people to chairs is considered a crime?

“I’m not cooking tonight.” The familiar voice of the champion rang through the camp, “I swear if I cook fish one more night in a row I will turn into a cod.”

Normally, a refusal to cook, from the designated cook, would send alarm bells through the chain. But he had a point. This would mark the 17th night they ate fish (Yay, thanks Wind), and honestly, everyone was getting sick of it, even the sailor himself. 

“Ho-Kay then, so what are we going to eat?”

“Have you guys been to a restaurant before?” 

…

This is when chaos ensues.

“Okay, so you are a party of nine?” A waitress stood in front of the chain. 9 heroes, in probably the worst attire to wear for a fancy restaurant, standing right before her.

Time quickly stepped in, “Yes, nine. Five adults and four children.” That earned him a very aggressive poke on the shoulder.

“Old man, I’m over one hundred years old, I think a hundred and seventeen is over eighteen years of age.” 

“Oh hush you, this bill is already gonna be expensive, plus judging by how you literally ATE a rock the other day, I think we can subtract a century.” 

“Just shut up you both. I am famished.” The pink haired boy let out a dramatic sigh. He just wanted his food.

“Drama Queen.”

All settled around a booth, at the ripe time of 19:17, the boys and men were ready to eat most definitely. 

“Sailor, don’t fill up on bread.” The captain mentioned, slyly moving the bread basket away from the teenager. 

“Oh-ohm-ohn, Imf a owin oy!” The sailor retaliated (or so that’s what it sounded like anyway, you can’t really tell when someone’s mouth is full.)

“Um, ma’am? I think we’re ready to order.” Twilight spoke up. He was stuck between Legend and Warriors, making sure that they don’t beat each other up. Not sure how he got into the beautiful position of family therapist, but it’s whatever.

“Time?”

“Yes Sky?”

“What’s a medium rare?”

“Oh it’s when the meat is only partially cooked!”

“Okay, miss? May I please have a medium rare chicken?” The innocent boy asked. Legend stifled a laugh, and Hyrule looked a little bit shocked.

“Um… I’ll see what I can do, and you sir?”

“I’ll take… actually I’m full!” Wind replied. He could have sworn he heard someone mumble ‘called it.’ But didn’t say anything.

“Oh okay, what about you?” She looked over at Four, who looked deep in thought.

“I’ll have the stuffed bell peppers, but WHATEVER YOU DO… do not use the green bell peppers… or someone is going to get hurt.” Maybe threatening wasn’t the best idea, but then again it’s also a complete valid reason if you are completely afraid of green bell peppers… according to Four and only Four.

“Mhm… got it? And you?”

“Okay lady, listen up. I would like some pizza, but without the crust, and hold off on the cheese.” Legend earned himself a flick from Twilight, “…Please.”

“So… just sauce?”

“Whatever you call it.”

“May I please have the fried wild greens?” Twilight *politely* asked.

“Of course! What about you?” Her eyes fell on Warriors. 

“Do you have any dates?”

“No sir, this is a restaurant.”

“Well, would you like to orange a date?” The waitress’s cheeks flushed, before she quickly moved on to the next Link. 

“Quick question, is the water that you have drinkable?” Hyrule asked, eying his glass. The waitress slowly nodded her head in confusion. “Alright, then I’ll eat a red potion.”

“I’m just going to completely ignore that request, as I have no idea what a red potion is.”

“I’ll have the steak, if it’s no trouble.” Time politely requested. Aside from Twilight, he was basically the only one with a sensible dish. 

“Of course and what about… you?” The waitress looked down to where wild was supposed to be sitting, but somehow he was not there.

“Okay who kidnapped our archer?” Legend bluntly asked. 

“Give me a minute,” Time stood up, “I know where he is.”

…

“Wild!”

“Okay, and then you see this is how you fry-“

“WILD!”

The champion almost dropped the pan from the harshness of the old man’s voice, “What?!”

“Tell me why you are in the kitchen that says EMPLOYEES ONLY??”

“Because! They weren’t cooking it right. I’m teaching them.”

“Champion, tying people to chairs and forcing them to watch you cook isn’t ‘teaching’.”

“Oops”

“What are you making anyway?”

“Fish.”

[gatheringfiki]

The following ficlet was written by @lazysaturdayonthebeach based on this photoset.

Fili/Kili, T

You might also be able to read this story on AO3.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please leave a comment either in replies or on AO3.

Happy Yule

—

Deep in the forest, two humans built a house far from other humans.  Occasional traders and tinkers stopped to do business.  Sometimes those visitors even spent the night.  But the two residents, one fair and the other dark, were happiest when left alone with just each other for company.

The dark one always left out a bowl of fresh cream for the brownies.  The light one made sure fresh bread was provided for fairies in summer.  In winter, he supplied preserved fruits and meats.  There was always a shiny object on a railing for a passing dragon too.  

The fae watched.  They accepted the offerings.  Still they remained wary, watching from their bird and hare mounts, ready for a quick departure.  That’s how they discovered why these two humans were so far from their kind.

The dark one had hidden himself in the barn with the ponies.  A fairy on a fat white bird watched from a tree near the door.  The dark one sobbed into a large rectangle of curious materials.

“I’m sorry, Oin.  I don’t know what to do.”

“Yes, I’m fine.  But Fee…”

“No, we can’t come home.  You heard Thorin.  Everyone heard Thorin.  He called Fili an incestous liar unworthy of being his heir.  After all the shit and pressure he’s heaped on Fee all his life!”

The boy, and the fairy realizes that he is just a boy, barely old enough to be considered an adult by his kind, but in no way mature by fae standards.  That makes him feel sorry for the dark child.  The bird chirps in agreement.

“I didn’t care when he said to me that he never did have hope for me.  I’ve always been the spare, but saying he was disgusted by me hurt Fee even worse.“  He hiccuped between sentences.  Sometimes hard to understand because of the tears, and the snot, and the gasping, he still talked, “Thorin gave Fee a full on anxiety attack.”

“No, it was my idea.  I spirited him away that night.  So him getting sick is all my fault.”

“No!  I can’t talk to Amad!  She’s…”

“Hi, Amad.”  More blubbering.  The poor human could barely breathe.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No bites.”

“Yes, a trader came by.  He did sneeze.”

“But Fee can’t do anything but lay in bed.  He’s hot.”

“No…”

“I… Kingsfoil?”

The fae understood.  He flew off.

“Just the flu?”

Not long after, two brownies on a hare arrived.  One hopped off and left a bundle of athelas in front of the door to make tea.

Eventually, Oin and Dis got Kili calm enough to go back inside and help Fili.  He kept talking on the phone because Dis insisted on talking to Fili.  He found the bundle and looked around.  Nobody.  Just some rabbit tracks in the snow.

Once Dis talked to Fili and Oin’s kingsfoil tea had been made and served, Kili crawled in bed to snuggle.  Fili could see the evidence of crying and managed to hug the younger tight.  The relief started the tears all over again.

“You are the best present ever.  I don’t care what we cost.  I only want you.”

Fili looked at him, confused.

“It’s Yule tomorrow.  You’re better.  I can’t imagine a better gift.”

Fili smiled, then insisted on a shower and sitting in the main room.  They sat together in the picture window and watched the snow fall, reveling in the closeness and safety.  They hadn’t revealed their location, but they could talk to Amad now and maybe that was a good omen for the new year.

A soft jingling broke the silence.  It got louder and closer for several minutes.  Then, to their wondering eyes appeared a sleigh carrying a red-coated man and pulled by reindeer.

“Was that?”

“A good omen.  Happy Yule.”

[usetheeauthor]

Love, Papa 2

Virgin!Henry Creel|One|Peter Ballard x SexWorker!Reader

Summary: After family game night takes a turn for the worse, One is angry with you for ruining his opportunity to go “outside”. You try to get back in his graces in hopes that he’ll help you escape.

Warnings/TW: graphic language, attempted suicide by drowning, violence, infantilization, Brenner being weird, enemies to lovers, tsundere!Peter, hair pulling, crying, force feeding, reader nicknamed “belle” (by Brenner) and “bunny” (by One), slow burn relationship

word count: 5.3k+

series masterlist

Chapter 2: Dumb Bunny

You grow impatient as the “family” continues to eat and converse knowing you’re desperate to win this silly game and go outside. The psychotic man’s eyes constantly flicker back to you when he notices that you haven’t partaken in the meal.

“Belle, you’ve hardly tasted your food. Your brother’s been trying to feed you the entire time and you continue to resist,” Papa begins. “That just won’t do.”

“I don’t eat meat.” You spat through clenched teeth.

“Meat is protein. For your bones and for that beautiful brain of yours, my dear. I want all of my children to grow up big and strong. So you will eat the meat.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?! Grow up? I’m an adult! You fucking psychopathic bastard.”

He shoves the table from himself as he stands. The table along with his chair launches a few feet away. He towers over you as you stare up with a defiant snarl.

Papa grips your face in his large hand, your lips protruding out. “What did I say about that kind of language under my roof? And in front of your younger sister! How would you feel if she were to repeat that kind of behavior? You’re on your 1st strike for the night. Don’t accumulate any more unless you know what’s good for you.”

His fingers began to dig into your cheeks the tighter he squeezed, tight enough that you were convince he’d draw blood or even choke you out this way.

“Papa,” One chimes in. “She didn’t mean to say those things. She’s scared and the rules are still very new to her. She’s learning.”

“Yes, Papa,” Eleven says, terrified for you. “She’ll be good.”

The viscous man glares into your eyes for a few moments before he lets out a sigh and releases you. You gasp for air, unable to rub the sting away from your cheeks due to your hands being bound.

“I’m sorry for my behavior, children. All of you. Especially you, belle. I’ve been much too hasty with you but only because I know you can be my good girl,” He caresses a hand down your tear-stained cheek and you shiver in fear and disgust. “Will you forgive me?”

You frantically look in One’s direction and he gives you a secret nod. Swallowing your pride, you whisper your acceptance. Papa kisses the top of your head before taking his seat and adjusting the table.

He lets out a breath of relief. “Now, One…please feed Belle her meal.”

“No, please.” You whimper.

One holds the spoon up your lips, you turn your head away. He follows your movements until Papa has to once again stand from his seat. He restrains your head, widening your mouth forcefully.

You whine and cry, struggling under his grasp. For the first time, One seems to break his emotionless persona and you could actually see him being reluctant to follow his father’s commands. But then Papa growls for him to do so and Peter shoves a spoonful of ground beef into your mouth.

“More!” Papa yells.

He shovels more into your mouth until your forced to swallow. You could feel you body having a visceral reaction to the meat. It rejects the taste and, not a moment after, you’re vomiting over yourself.

“Looks like Belle made a mess.” Papa says in an endearing tone.

You couldn’t even stare at him in anger for his sick ways. You felt defeated and weak, looking up at him with tears swelling in your eyes and saliva on your chin.

“It’s okay, sweetie. Let’s run you a bath and get you all cleaned up,” He runs a hand through your hair. “Maybe next time for dinner you won’t give a hard time. I beg not to…unless you wish to be punished. Eleven, would please draw Belle a bath? And, One, if you could please clean this mess and then take her to her bath?”

“Yes, Papa.” They say in unison.

Eleven rushes out of the kitchen and One tends to the mess all over you, wiping away with a moist towelette.

“If you’ll excuse me, I will be in my office to tend to my work. Please have lights out and everyone in bed by 8 sharp. We will have to reschedule the family game night for another time?”

“But Papa,” One shoots up from his seat in protest. “I was hoping I’d get to go outside. You said if we played then there’s a chance that I—”

“Are you being defiant?” Papa’s voice grows dark, staring the young blonde-haired man down.

The young man swallows his pride, jaw clenching. “No, I’m sorry for speaking out of turn.”

Papa nods, wordlessly accepting his apology before exiting the kitchen. One slowly lowers back down into his seat, staring in Papa’s direction angrily before turning to you.

“This is your fault.” He hisses but you couldn’t even care to reply. You already felt so broken. There was no way you could escape this place. Even if you could, you were much too afraid of what could happen should you get caught.

After cleaning you up enough, he carries you to the bathroom in his arms. Eleven awaits by the bathroom door, concern in her eyes for you. You felt genuinely terrible for her. She’s just a young girl witnessing all of this happening before her. Yet despite all the violence she must’ve endured, she was still kind and caring.

“You can go clean up in the kitchen, sister. I’ll be there with you soon.” One says to the young girl.

She nods, looking at you once more then closing the bathroom door behind her. One pulls off the large shirt he’d given you and you don’t attempt to resist. Even when his fingers curled around the waistband of your underwear, you remained an empty shell.

He doesn’t lower your panties. Instead, he pulls his hands away from you, letting out a shaky exhale.

“That’s as far as I will go. You can remove them on your own,” He reaches for the doorknob to exit but then ends up speaking over his shoulder for his last message. “You must know you’ve earned an enemy in me. I had plans to go outside for reasons that I don’t feel the need to disclose with you. If you weren’t such a brat, we could’ve been out there.”

You shudder a cry before breaking down completely, head falling into your hands. “I don’t care anymore. Just leave me alone.”

One almost feels bad for you. You weren’t built for a situation like this. But was anyone really? Something about you was different, though. Why had you given up so soon?

He exits the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar and he could hear you sobbing to yourself all the way until the end of the hall.

————————

You can hear the chimes again. When you close your eyes, they sound a lot closer. You let your mind drift away again.

This time you’re even younger in your memories. Your dress the color of sky, flowing daintily in the strong winds as you frolicked in a field of daisies and dandelions.

You can see someone in the distance. A boy some years older than you. He calls you over to him with a smile and you want nothing more than to reach out to him. But every time you felt like you were getting closer, he seemed further and further away. Oh, if only you could see his face.

But he felt so familiar. You know him. Possibly all your life. So you pick up your speed to reach him, giggling and smiling. You were almost there. So close. But then you see a tall, dark figure towering over him from behind. The boy is oblivious to it, simply waving and smiling at you.

You stop in your tracks, screaming. Or at least you’re trying to scream but your vocals felt as if they’d been constricted by your fear. You knew his name, it was on the tip of your tongue. You’ve got to say it or that thing will take him! Just say his name!

You open your mouth the first syllable of his name ready to be spoken when the figure consumes the boy whole. You watch in horror, tears streaming down your face. Paralyzed with fear, you couldn’t run. All you could do is watch as the figure slithered your way.

It rears itself back as if it’s gaining the momentum to pounce and—

—————

You’re coughing up water, gasping for air. One and Eleven over you, staring down at you with a mix of terror and relief in their eyes. You have a fluffy pink towel wrapped around your body as you recognize that you were resting on the cold tile of the bathroom floor.

You were drowning, submerged yourself in water for nearly 3 minutes. One was able to revive you with CPR. His hands wet as he caresses his hands over your face to check if you were responsive.

“Why?” Was all he said.

But you don’t answer. You just blink up at him wanting to study his features, know who he is. Maybe he might have been the boy in the dream that you saw.

Eleven gets on her knees beside you, tears in her eyes. She goes in for a tight hug, surprising you. You don’t hug back at first, too dazed and confused. But then you suddenly had the urge to comfort her, curling your arms around her tight as well and whispering your apologies to her.

After the incident, you were placed back into ‘your room’. You’d been given another large shirt to wear. You knew he’d be coming in to tie you up to the bed and you wished you could savor the moments of your freedom, stretching your hands and legs. But all you could do was hug your knees to your chest.

You feel someone enter the room, not bothering to look behind you.

“Belle?”

It’s the little girl. You turn to look at her standing in the doorframe, scared to come in.

“It’s okay,” You say. “You can enter.”

She nods, walking over to your bedside. You gesture for her to have a seat and she does so as well. The silence is deafening for a moment until she speaks up.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers.

“Why?”

“Because you’re here.”

You let her reply sit for a moment then sigh. “It’s not your fault.”

“But I wish I could have said something to help you get away.”

“Then he would’ve hurt you,” You know it was brutal to say but the Eleven knew that it was exactly what he would have done if she interfered. “I think maybe I’m supposed to be here.”

Eleven blinks in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah. I think it’s fate for me to have met you. Because it means I get to save you. Wouldn’t you want to be free?”

Eleven blinks rapidly, putting her hands over her ears. “No, no. I don’t want anyone to get hurt. I’m sorry. No escaping. No!”

The picture frames on the walls began to clatter against the wall.

“Eleven?” You stare at her in horror as she continues to plea and beg for you to stay.

You don’t know what to do so you simply wrap your arms around her, holding her tight until she begins to stop crying. She ceases her cries, going limp in your arms as you cradle her.

When you felt a presence coming towards your room, you worried it was Papa and you expected him to question Eleven’s distraught state. But One enters the room, concern on his face when he scans the room to see the picture frames slowing their movements then looks over at you and Eleven hugging.

“What’s going on?” He asks.

“It’s nothing,” You say. “I just scared her. That’s all.”

“Eleven, it’s time to go to bed. Papa will come around to tuck you into bed soon so please say goodnight to Belle.”

She reluctantly pulls away from you, whispering a soft goodnight then exits the room. One stands in the middle of the room stiff and proper, staring daggers at you.

“Are you aware of what you’d just done?”

“Are you always this stoic?” You mutter.

“I’m only doing what I have to do. You should do the same,” He strides over to you, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. “I told you if you’re going to survive, you need to adapt. Killing yourself isn’t going to help this situation.”

“And how so? If I’m dead, I wouldn’t have to deal with you or that insane man.”

“You don’t realize what you’ll leave behind once you do,” For the first time, you can see fear in his blue eyes. The moonlight shining in them enhances his emotions. He looks strikingly beautiful, face chiseled despite the light being so dim. You’re enamored by him. “You don’t just die and that’s it. Eleven and I will face the wrath of Papa if you do so. I won’t let you die. Call me ‘selfish’ but I’ve been good enough to not be punished and I don’t need you ruining that for me.”

“You have no control over me. None of you do. I rather die than live in this nightmare. I can’t do this!”

“Do you know that it was Eleven who’d found you submerged underwater? She couldn’t see you through the milk & rose water, not until she reached in to drain the tub and felt a foot. She would have screamed at the top of her lungs but she knew what Papa would’ve done to us all.” Your facial expression softens, feeling truly horrible that she had to see such a thing. He continues. “If you don’t adapt, you don’t survive. But if you choose not to get along, that’s fine. I don’t mind whatever happens to you as long as I don’t have to get punished for it.”

“Maybe you’re okay with being a bitch boy and all because you don’t want to get hurt but at least I’ve got the balls to do something about it. So…Fuck. You.”

“I’m going to give you such a hard time.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

His face twists into a furious snarl, getting on his feet to leave when your hand reaches for his on their own accord.

He’s caught by surprise, frozen in position as he looks down at the contact. You pull him down to be seated once more and he does so without hesitation.

One studies your face for an answer.

“What’s your name?” You ask, dropping the hostilities.

“One.” He says.

“Your real name.”

“That’s my real name.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s the only name I could recall.”

“What about your life before this?”

“I can’t remember that either,” He sighs. “What does it matter anyway?”

“Because,” You scoot closer to him. “I feel like maybe we’ve met before.”

“You’re mistaken.” He tries to stand again but you place your hands on his shoulders, seating him.

“I dreamt of a boy in a field of daisies and dandelions. I couldn’t make out his face. He was only a silhouette but I knew he was smiling at me. And he was happy to see me. If I could just find some connection to all of this in my life—”

“You have to let go of those fantasies. They’ll only give you false hope and drive you mad.”

You grew upset, turning your head away from his gaze. “I am mistaken. The boy in my fantasy actually smiled at me. You don’t even have the decency to tell me you’re sorry.”

“For what?”

“For being okay with this! For doing everything he says.”

“You’re as daft as you look,” He growls. “You think I want to play these silly games. We don’t have a choice! So again…if you want to survive, you have to adapt. Unless you’d like to end up like the others.”

“T-there were o-others?”

“Of course, there were others. He’ll stop at nothing for the perfect family. I’m a permanent member of this family. So is Eleven. But you… ‘Belle’… are expendable,” He whispers darkly, eyes wide with innocence despite his chilling words. “Papa dreams of a perfect family to be in his image that he’s dreamt for years. And losing another new addition will mean nothing more to him than a piece of torn paper.”

You swallow hard, chest rising and falling heavily. “How many were there…before me?”

He opens his mouth to speak only to be cut of by the sound of a door shutting. One’s eyes bug out in horror.

“That’s Papa. He’s just left his study. I must go before he sees us like this,” He picks up the rope tied to the bars of the bed frame. “I have to tie you up.”

“No,” You plead. “You can’t please. It hurts.”

“Until you gain his trust, it’ll be this way. I already told you that you’re expendable. Don’t do anything stupid and risk losing your life. If you want to survive…

“I have to adapt,” You finish with a groan of annoyances. “I know. I know. Just tied me up already. I don’t care to fight anymore.”

Peter slowly loops the rope around your limps and you could actually feel him holding back on tightening the rope.

Leans down to whisper in your ear. “Don’t give up fighting just yet. If you still have a shred of something to live for then you must hang on to it.”

He lifts his head to stare into your eyes and you see that he genuinely meant what he said. You were surprised but nodded nonetheless. He quietly slips from your room leaving you in the chilly, eerily quiet space alone.

Every footstep you heard outside your door terrified you knowing that it was Papa. Any moment and he’d be walking through the door just to harass you in some way. You couldn’t bear to have him touch you but you knew it was only inevitable.

To reduce the surprise of his presence, you counted each thud of his foot in order to determine how far he was from reaching your door. It did little to lower your anxiety as each footstep grew closer and closer in sound until you heard him halt right out your door.

You tremble against the mattress as the door slowly creaks ajar. Then, you see him. The tall, lanky silhouette of your captor standing in the door frame. He steps up and the moonlight washes over his features. He has a soft smile.

“Hello, Belle.”

You don’t speak anticipating his next move. What was he planning to do? You were already tied up. He could do whatever he pleased in his bound state and with each footstep, you began to cower even more at this very fact.

He takes a seat beside you, shushing you as you whimper and tremble. He brings a large hand to your head, smoothing your hair down.

“I didn’t come to hurt you, my dear. I only want to comfort you. You’ve disobeyed me plenty today and yet I can’t help it. I must ease your nerves,” He whispers, fingers now caressing your tear-stained cheek. “Tell me what must I do to make you love me.”

You shake your head. “I could never love you.”

“That’s not something I can believe, Belle. You wouldn’t be selling your body on the street if you weren’t craving for someone to love you. And I love you, Belle. With time, you’ll love me, too,” He leans over you as you press your head back against your pillow. “Until then, I will be patient. I will wait for you to come around. Then, we’ll begin our journey as a happy family.”

He places a gentle kiss on your forehead and you do everything in your power to keep from rubbing at it in defiance and disgust. He moves his lips to your bound wrist, sliding the rope down enough to place another kiss on the deep indentation of the rope against your skin. He takes a thumb to rub at it before bringing the rope over it again.

“Do I get a kiss goodnight?” He asks, bringing his face over yours again and turning his face to the side. “On the cheek, of course.”

You face away, snapping your head to the side to face the antique wallpaper. He looks down at you and sighs, hands on either side of your head. He inches them closer to your hair sprawled out around you, weaving his fingers in the strands of your hair and gripping hard. You gasp in pain, staring up at him with widened eyes.

“You need to sleep off this rebellious attitude. I say by morning you’ll be more well-behaved,” His lips are inches away from yours, tone icy. “Have a good night…Belle.”

He pulls away from you leaving you struggling between holding your breath and hyperventilating as he exits ‘your room’.

You coil your body in fetal position, crying softly into the night. You couldn’t see yourself falling asleep anytime soon. Not when he was around possibly waiting for a moment to take advantage of your sleeping state.

You let your mind drift again, far away from here and back to the field of daisies with the boy who made you feel safe. Slowly your eyes begin to blink close allowing yourself to hold the image of him holding out his hand to you.

—————

The next day, you were discouraged to realize that the torment that you were experiencing had not been a dream. You were awoken by the blonde haired man who still carried resentment towards you for your little stunt last night.

While he helped you out of bed, you couldn’t help staring into his face. It was no surprise he carried no emotions. He was likely desensitized to everything around him. He probably was once like the little girl Eleven, bright-eyed and innocent, until he was not.

You pitied him. And maybe that was displayed on your face because he had a few choice words for you.

“Why are you staring at me like this?”

“Like how?”

“Like you feel sorry for me. Like I’m weak.”

“I do feel sorry for you,” You admit. “You have no recollection of your life before this. You have no name other than a number. And you’re treated as if you are a child.”

“I don’t need your pity,” One scoffs. You take his hand and he’s taken aback once again at the sudden contact. “You’re always touching me. Don’t you know the basic rules of keeping your hands to yourself.”

“No one has ever followed that rule for me. Why should I be the only one to follow it? I think you want me to touch you,” You said, intertwining your fingers with his. “I think…you still have a heart and you’re seeking compassion and companionship. You want me to convince you to fight. You and I are both victims of our situation. But we shouldn’t let it drive our complacency. We could escape. The three of us.”

His ocean eyes shine with shock as if you’d read what was on his mind. He quickly snaps back to reality, pulling his hand away. “You’re a foolish woman. Your bravado will be your downfall.”

“You can try and pretend like you don’t want to run! But I know the truth and I’ve seen it in your eyes. I won’t waste my energy fighting to stay alive here like you want me to,” You say while staring up in his eyes with a newfound courageous spirit. “I know what I’m fighting for now and it doesn’t end with me being here.”

The two of you keep up your heated gazes until the door pushes open and Eleven enters the room giddily.

“Brother! Sister!” Eleven squeals giddily. “Papa says that he’ll allow us to go outside after breakfast! He says that he felt truly awful for ending family game night the way it did and so as an apology, we can play out in the field.”

“That’s splendid, El! Sister and I will be expressing our gratitude to Papa very soon. Could you please let him know that we’ll be there soon?” One says.

“Yes!” She says with a bright smile before scurrying out the room.

One brings his lips to your ears for a raspy, threatening whisper. “I’ll see to it that you’ll be on your best behavior unless you wish to be punished for real this time.”

He pulls away and gives you that famous eerie yet innocent smile. “Don’t be too late for breakfast.” And with that, he leaves you in the room alone as you seethe quietly at his unwavering demeanor.

————

Breakfast felt surprisingly normal. Papa read his newspapers, Eleven colored away in her coloring book, you and One were consistently staring dagger at one another. It creeped you out but that didn’t matter at all to you.

You’ll finally get to go out there and make a run for it. You even ate all your breakfast hoping that it’d give you the necessary energy to run for your life.

Papa looks away from his newspaper to watch you in astonishment. “Wow, look at you, Belle. It seems you’ve developed quite the appetite. And Eleven, it’s not good to color at the table. We’re meant to be eating breakfast, remember?”

“Sorry, papa.”

“You’re very much excused, love. I understand that you’re eager to hurry outside. I guess I could just let you three catch the rays of the sun right now. Is that what you’d like?”

“Yes!” One and Eleven say in unison.

“And you, Belle?” Papa says, focusing his attention on you.

You smile brightly and nod. “Y-yes.”

“Wonderful,” He beams. “Alright, let’s go outside.”

You could almost cry tears of joy. Freedom was only within a reach away. He stands to his feet and you all follow after him as he heads over to the door padded with locks upon locks.

He pulls out a keychain filled with various keys from his pocket and begins unlocking the door. When he gets to the last lock, your smile widens as the door swings open and the sun pours in.

It was in the middle of nowhere, a house in the middle of the woods. There’s a chance you could get lost but that mattered not. As long as you can get away, you’ll figure out a way home after.

The house was also surrounded by tall metal fences, fences laced with barbed wire at the top. It was intimidating and deterring but not enough to scare you.

The field’s quite beautiful. He has his own garden and crops to grow. Possibly to reduce the amount of trips to the grocery store. You could see an apple tree with a tire swing hanging from the thick branch.

Eleven is the first to exit the home, barefoot with her frilly blue and white dress blowing in the wind as she twirled and jumped around.

One is next, his excitement a lot more contained as he heads straight for the garden. He begins to tend to the crops.

Lastly, you take a barefooted step onto the creaky porch, antsy at the startling sound which causes you to bump into Papa. He chuckles, amused by your anxious state.

“Run along, Belle. Enjoy your time outside. I’ll be in my study but we’ll see each other very soon.”

You blink up at him then back at the picturesque field. He was wrong. He wouldn’t be seeing you. But if there’s one command from him that you’ll find yourself listening to…you will very well ‘run along’.

————

You need to figure out just how you will get to the other side of this fence without being shocked to death.

“Don’t even think about,” One says, bumping your shoulder with his as he follows your eyes to the barbed wire fence. “You’ll have yourself killed.”

“I thought you didn’t care what happened to me.” You mutter.

“I don’t long as I’m not in the middle of it.”

“Then, you don’t need to worry about it.”

“Whatever. It’s your funeral.” He huffs, retreating back to his garden. You should be ignoring him and focusing on more pressing matters but you watch him as he cups his hands carefully around the leaf of a plant.

You zero in only to find that he held a small tarantula in his hands. You squeak your horror.

“Why do you have that?”

“Why do you care?” He counters.

“You’re more of a child than I thought.” You say, rolling your eyes.

He gives in. “I like spiders. Everyone looks down on them because they’re ‘creepy’. Much like me, I, too, couldn’t appease the masses. I’ve been told that I’m strange. Unnerving like my eight-legged comrades. I was never normal. But why would I want to be, anyway? All humans care for is fulfilling their own selfish desires. Sex…money…violence…anything of the flesh. But what I desire…not many are willing to admit. I desire power.”

“You’re right about that,” You say much to his surprise. “Everyone I’ve met has only ever wanted those things from me. The men who used my body, the man who sells my body for profit, the violence that follows me where I go. I want power, too. If I had the power, just this once, I’d get my revenge on them all. Including your Papa.”

He’s moved by this, smirking with pride. “You’re not the dumb bunny I thought you were.”

The corner of your lips twitch in a vicious sneer. “I’d hurt you, too. I’d hurt anyone who hurt me.”

He nods, slinking the hairy spider back and forth in his hands and between his fingers. “You’re entitled to those feelings, bunny.”

“Bunny? Is that what you’ll be calling me from now on?”

“I think so. It suits you well. Hopping around dangerously and frantically only to be swallowed whole by the cunning fox. You’re only prey here. That’s all you’ll ever be. Power isn’t reserved for prey. That’s just wasteful.”

“I’ll prove you wrong.” You hiss, stomping away from him.

You pace back and forth, hands in your hair and thinking hard when you feel a small hand tug at your white nightgown.

You looked down to see Eleven with a smile on her face, waving for you to come along with her. “I have something to show you.”

“Not now, dear. I—-“

“Oh, it’ll be so quick. I promise.” She says, grabbing your hand and tugging you along to come around the back.

She halts in her tracks at a distance, then points forward and you look in her pointed direction. There’s a brown wild bunny hopping away in the cunning fox’s cage.

Eleven gets on her knees and gestures for you to follow her as the two of you crawl as close as possible to the bunny. She pulls out an apple from her small pocket, taking a bite so that she has a piece of apple to feed to the bunny. She hands the apple over to you, wanting you to do the same.

“That way the bunny will get to decide who she feels comfortable going to.” Eleven explains.

You repeat the process of biting into the apple for a chunk to provide to the bunny. Then, you hear it. The chimes gently sounding off in the winds. The bunny hops towards you and you and Eleven stare in awe at the creature as it makes its way to your offering.

It nibbles for a moment, your eyes staring into its own like you’ve formed a connection. Eleven sneezes and it startles the bunny, causing it to scamper off and under the barbed wire fence.

“I’m sorry.” Eleven says, disappointed.

But you had a revelation. It wasn’t that you needed to go over the fence. It was under the entire time.

Score: 1 for the ‘dumb bunny’.

[highfiveheroes]

HELLO HELLO HELLO! some ch2 spoilers in here, so answer at any pace you choose, but: the entire buddy-with-a-knife scene (starting with "ee're out of rice") for the fic commentary ask. that WILL be living in my head and heart and soul forever, and it's CHILLING. please tell me all about it.

I LOVE THIS SCENEEEEEE this is going under the cut because it's gonna be LONG but!!! could not be more pleased to yell about this whole interaction

"We’re out of rice," Oisin announces. Ivy, who’s sitting at the bar sketching out their map, sighs.

"I thought Jace was getting us some?"

"Nope," Ruben says. He’s on the windowsill, his guitar draped across his lap as he picks a few chords over and over. "I didn’t tell him to. Nobody told me we were out."

this little intro scene is just. i LOVE writing everyone as a crew. they could all be somewhere else, if they really wanted, but why would they? i've talked before (and plenty of other people have made posts about it as well) regarding the sunk-cost fallacy of "we're in this together, we might as well stick around and see it through, we can't get away from it even if we wanted". ruben doesn't NEED to be playing his guitar around everyone, but he does, because he likes the company. oisin and ivy are always together. mary ann just likes having a place to sit. buddy and oisin are cooking together—they're probably the competent ones, the ones that have family recipes, etc. so it's like no, they don't NEED to all be together, but they do it anyway—and kipperlilly specifically needs to feel important, so she hangs around them, "supervising". also of note—ruben has to be Very Responsible. at this point porter and jace have pseudo-moved in, but the entire rest of the year there's been NO adult supervision, so he's had to be in charge of groceries and maintenance which is,,,, an issue. now that he has someone else he gives them all the things to worry about and takes a backseat, so he's missed way more. (plus, with him and buddy...yeah <3)

Buddy is by the stove, chopping meat or something. Kipperlilly happens to notice him stiffening, but she doesn’t think much of it for a moment.

"I didn’t even think we went through that much rice," Ivy mumbles, going back to her map.

"I made soup yesterday," Mary Ann reminds them, her game making a little cheering noise. "I told Oisin."

Kipperlilly doesn’t know where Jace is. She doesn’t think it’s important. It’s not. Right?

the little bits interspersed are so important to me as one of those "build the tension" choices. tell the action, have mundane thoughts, but the thoughts CANNOT give into the concern. if you don't think about it, it isn't happening! buddy's starting to look angry—i wonder where jace is. we're out of rice—buddy is just cutting meat. that's all. y'know? LOVED this trick it was very fun to write

"Well, fuck that, then. I guess we’re having pizza or something if there’s any in the fridge," Oisin mumbles.

Nobody’s left the house in days. Kipperlilly is standing by the doorway to the living room, surveying everyone like she always does. There’s something in the air, and it starts to get thicker when she sees Buddy slowly turn to Oisin.

another foreshadowing moment right? kipperlilly sees the writing on the wall, and she could probably say something, but she chooses not to. why would she? it's not going to affect her really. right? they're all in this together whether they want to be or not. but also, her judgement is so skewed now that there's a genuine chance that she doesn't see how severe the issue is until it's too late.

(and then maybe there's a sick part of her that likes seeing someone else's perfect façade crack. but that's subject to analysis at a different time. in fact, i could write a whole essay about my takes on buddy and kipperlilly as foils and why they'd be the perfect partners for ruben in a different life i mean what)

"No rice?" he asks. His voice is tight.

Oisin doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t seem worried. Kipperlilly wonders if he’s just stupid to have not felt the energy change.

"No rice," he confirms, shutting the cabinet. "So no fried rice for dinner."

"And no one thought to check for the ingredients beforehand?" Buddy asks. His voice is too calm. Kipperlilly’s hackles are raised.

He hasn’t put the knife down. It’s shaking in Buddy’s grip.

"Didn’t think we had to. My bad." Oisin raises his hands sarcastically, shaking them, and he doesn’t turn fast enough to see Buddy lunge at him, taking the knife, plunging it into his heart, dragging it down so that the fabric of his shirt and the scales of his chest rip with a sickening sound. Oisin chokes, gurgling, but it’s too late. He goes down before anyone else can react.

Kipperlilly saw all of it. She feels sick.

"Next time," Buddy announces, throwing the knife down, "we ought to check for ingredients before you make me start cutting up one of our Lord’s great creatures. Someone get started on that pizza." He looks down, sneering. "Otherwise, I might get a little hungry for something with scales."

THIS. so like. the take i have taken with the rage gems is that they slowly start to deteriorate the body they're in the longer they're in there. in the jace fics, you can see it REALLY evidently in how fast he spirals—like a parasite, right? and the more angry he gets, the more anger it wants the next time. it's like those little toys you get that are packed sand that you're supposed to chip away at. even saturated with water they're very hard to chip apart, until it All Crumbles At Once. goes to follow > kipperlilly had it first, but she accepted it, so her rate is slightly altered. jace had it the next longest, he starts losing it first. nobody else has the anger issues they have, but the catharsis of killing again and again is starting to accelerate it.

but buddy? who's only had the gem for a few days? he was so angry it happened in the first place, that his spiral has...well, he's much further along than kipperlilly at this point, let's say that. and it's only been a few days.

but he's got to act on it, right? he's spent so long without getting angry at all, and then he was so furious that when he finally was taken inventory of, his base rate was NOWHERE where it normally is. so his spiral takes him So Far Away from who he normally is. his personality does a complete 180.

but he's also spent so long working with the passive aggressive niceties of the church of helio (read: that sweet and southern "bless your heart" attitude, obfuscating what you really want to say and how you feel, etc) that he's brilliant at it with everyone else. but he's spent a year watching these fuckers kill each other in cold blood for things like cereal milk. he can let go with them. and let go he does!!!

Ivy, who also had a front-row seat to her best friend’s murder, looks deathly pale as she gags, then runs out of the room. She’s never seen Oisin murdered like that before, Kipperlilly remembers. Her own lips shake as she licks them.

"He’s gonna stain the floor," Mary Ann says. She didn’t look up.

this is another one of those moments that is just. they're kids, being kids. hanging out. right? and there's a LOT happening behind the scenes that kipperlilly hasn't been privy to of her own accord (ie. too dialed into her own shit...like a certain wannabe god.)

kipperlilly doesn't bother herself with details like who cleans up all the blood and violence. ruben probably has cleaners, right? but even if he doesn't, it genuinely doesn't have any affect on her if mary ann is the one on her knees scrubbing the blood out of the carpet and the tile and the walls. it started when she was the one causing the biggest messes, and it ended when oisin landed on the floor in this scene. she can mop it up, but there's no point in stopping it from staining. (to be fair, mary ann would never TELL kipperlilly or anyone this, so kip may not have even known even if she showed signs of empathy.)

and then...ivy. sweet ivy, who has been crushing on oisin since they were thirteen and is properly in love with him now and pissed that he won't notice her because he's so obsessed with adaine abernant. and she knew they wouldn't make it out of here alive, but when someone like ruben kills oisin, it's not quite so...vicious. there's a layer of respect still, one of those "i respect you still, you can kill me this way later, we'll be okay, this isn't personal." but with buddy there's none of that. this is his first murder (yay!) and he just fucking BODIES oisin for something that wasn't even really his fault, and the fact that they HEAR it? and it brings up a second point she hasn't been aware of—that she may have to watch oisin die. there's SO MUCH MORE with oisin and ivy that i'm getting into when i get to writing their aside for this universe but like...guys. this was brutal for more reasons than just what it appears. and kipperlilly misses ALL OF IT.

"You’re the cleric," Kipperlilly reminds Buddy, her voice surprisingly steady. "You have to revive him."

Buddy glares at her with such vitrol that she physically steps away. "I’m aware. I will do it when I’m ready. I have ten minutes, don’t I?"

Kipperlilly almost argues, but it’s easier to just nod. Buddy takes the meat he was cutting and dumps it in the sink, turning on the disposal and leaving it running as he pushes past Kipperlilly into the rest of the house. She doesn’t look at Oisin; Mary Ann is probably right, and the tile is probably going to be stained worse than it was before, but she doesn’t look to see how much blood there is. For the first time, she doesn’t think she can stomach it.

She decides to give it eight minutes before she bothers Buddy about it again, so she starts counting.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen…

okay this!!! i am not the most familiar with dnd mechanics, but (as you and i have discussed previously jade LOL) this is definitely a moment of the cleric realizing he can play god. he's in control of life or death in a way he hasn't been before, and he's spent all year watching these fuckers turn on each other, and he's taking the chance of "oisin is probably going to stabilize, and if he doesn't, i'll deal with it later." i think they have a 10 minute rule amongst the group because after that it can verge into actual feelings of mourning, and that's not fun for anyone involved. (yes, it's usually an immediate revive, but the ten minute thing is something they've all had discussions about when it's brought up, so like. it's still a fact, even if they've never used the full ten minutes before.)

and the counting...i've noticed that i have a habit of incorporating some of those "calming yourself down" tricks into characters who are vaguely unstable. i think it makes sense for kipperlilly though, that when she's scared or upset, jawbone had tried to encourage her to take that moment of "try counting, get your mind onto something steady with an end goal, see if that doesn't help" sort of thing. so she gives herself a set time limit and starts counting, and that way she doesn't have to worry about the body on the floor.

(another note though: kipperlilly is for sure also haunted by what the hell just happened, because she came to the same conclusion that ivy did, that rage-starred buddy is a completely different beast than regular buddy and it probably shook her down to her core. just a fun little thing <3)

so!! i intentionally didn't include a lot in this scene, but it's also SO FUCKING MUCH to me. personally. there's a lot happening behind the scenes that's going to come out in later chapters and asides, but. god i love this. thank you for asking and letting me ramble LMAO

[renaiswriting]

Velvet Embrace (part 2)

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo/Reader

Summary:

Shadow people were always there in your life. They never disturbed you; they never interacted with you; it was like there was a pact between both of you to simply ignore each other. They saw you grow from a baby to an adult.

So why are you now getting attached to one of them who keeps looking out for you?

Warnings: None in this part I think

Word count: 1.2k

Author's note: Hello there! I'm creating a tag list, so if you wanna be tagged on the next updates for this story please let me know!

If you wanna be tagged, please fill out the tag list form

Previous | Velvet Embrace masterlist | Next

The Silent Watchers Masterlist

Masterlist

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

"You're really tense." Your mother noticed, moving behind you and giving your tense shoulders a massage. "Those exams are really giving you a hard time, isn't it?

 

You nodded.

 

But it wasn't because of the exams.

 

You have been done with exams for almost a week now.

 

You haven't failed any of them.

 

"I just have been studying a lot lately." You excused yourself, giving him a weak smile.

 

"I can tell; look at those dark circles." Your mother clicked her tongue, shaking her head in disapproval. "Are you sleeping well? Are you eating enough vegetables? Maybe sending you away was not the right choice."

 

"I'm doing fine. Really." You reassured her, taking her hands in yours. "Exams would have been hell in here, just as it is on my own."

 

"Language." Your mother scolded you.

 

"Sorry. But soon I'll be on a break, and I'll come home more often. You'll get sick of me sleeping all day and eating all your food before you notice it." You laughed softly.

 

"I'll never get sick of you being home. You know it." She dismissed your words. "I'm always worried about you. I just want my baby to be healthy and happy."

 

"I am, mom. Don't worry about me; you worry too much."

 

"Whatever." She rolled her watery eyes, holding you in a thigh hug. "I love you."

 

"I love you, too."

 

"I'll make sure your father remembers to drop by next Tuesday and give you some of the meat he will buy; he always buys way too much for us two."

 

Having these weekend visits was never easy. You went back home, missing your family more than ever, and the big empty house always made you feel lonely.

 

Not to mention that they always insist on you staying for dinner and to sleep, even when you didn't bring your books with you.

 

Which always ended up with you going back home when it was already late and dark.

 

And it meant dealing with them.

 

You took a deep breath from the other side of the door. Your father was watching you from his car, waiting to see you get inside safely before driving back to his own house.

 

You have never mentioned the shadows again, ever since you were little.

 

You were scared they would think you had officially lost your kind and make you go back to them.

 

You needed to prove to them that you were not crazy. That you were not imagining things and, most importantly, that you would do well in life even if those things were always around.

 

You needed to prove it.

 

You needed to prove it to yourself.

 

You need to believe it yourself.

 

You could hear the TV from outside; you remember clearly leaving the house on Friday afternoon and turning the TV off to avoid having a big bill at the end of the month.

 

But clearly, Hidden did not have any consideration for your wallet, and he probably even knew about the existence of bills and money.

 

You opened the door.

 

Everything seemed normal.

 

The hallway was barely illuminated by the lights coming from your bedroom, all the way from the second floor.

 

The kitchen was silent, as was the second floor; the only noise that you could hear was the one coming from the TV and from the bathroom that you had forbid yourself from ever entering.

 

You waved your dad goodbye when the car started driving away, closing the door behind your back. You clunked your bag and your jacket closer to your chest, like an invisible cape to protect you from the shadows.

 

You took your shoes off, not wanting to make any sort of noise as you were walking through the stairs.

 

The sofa moved near the window, and that was enough to make you run upstairs.

 

You shut your door. Your chest was moving up and down fast as your lungs were trying to catch as much air as possible.

 

Your jacket and bag were both at your feet, your body resting against the door to give it extra weight and make it more difficult to open it if one of the shadows were even trying to.

 

When you recovered, you moved to your closet, searching for your pajamas to change into and make yourself feel safe.

 

Or at least as soon as possible.

 

Your phone vibrated with an upcoming call from one of your university classmates.

 

"Hello! Did I call you in a bad moment?"

 

"Of course not! What do you need?" You replied. Kate was sounding just as stressed as you remembered her. She was in so many classes that you actually wondered how she managed to pass every single one of them and still find time to eat and sleep.

 

"I was checking our team project, and I realized Melissa didn't answer one of the points she was supposed to make." She sighed. "I tried to contact her all day; I called her like five times, and I haven't received any reply from her yet. I would do this on my own if I could, but I still have to study for my Math exam tomorrow and the Economic one I have next Tuesday. Could you do me a favor and do that answer, please?"

 

"That's weird; I texted her this morning and she replied to me," you frowned, "but yeah, I'll look at it now and see what I can do. Don't worry about it."

 

"Thank you! I'll be here all night, so if you need something, just text me, alright? See you tomorrow."

 

I was not needing that sleep at all. You bitterly said to yourself, finally freeing you from the uncomfortable outside clothes to your comfortable pajamas.

 

You knew why Melissa hadn't replied to any of Kate's texts or calls.

 

She had mentioned to you about that party she was so eager to go to and the one she had invited you to a thousand times because she didn't feel like going alone.

 

There was no way to get out of it now, you thought. You wouldn't be selfish and drop everything on Kate; she was already extremely busy, and you couldn't make Melissa start writing what she hasn't done yet because the girl was probably drunk by now.

 

It needed to be done by tomorrow.

 

You were ready for another all-nighter.

 

This was the fourth one on that list that week; one more? What could possibly be added to the list?

 

You opened the file Kate sent to your email, checking every single answer just in case something else was missing since you couldn't afford to fail it.

 

You were already fifteen minutes in when a soft knock on your door startled you.

 

You kept quiet, not moving at all.

 

The knock repeated itself once again when there was no reply from your side.

 

Then, something moved under your door; it was a tiny piece of paper with something written on the back of it.

 

Hello.

 

The letters were neatly written, with a black tint.

 

You took it with shaking hands; your body temperature was dropping with every second that passed.

 

The knocking started again. It was always the same. One single knock was enough to tell you that it was still there, waiting for a response.

 

Another tiny piece of paper moved under the doorframe.

(Y/n).

[juuheizou]

Omg now i'm dying to know what are suzuya's trigger textures, and his triggers in general too since I also hc him as autistic<3 also a guide on how to touch him right pleaaase???tyyy

Of course, friend! I'm always down to talk about autistic Suzuya!

Do be warned, in my personal opinion it's no worse than anything in the series, but if you're squeamish about unsanitary things, you might want to skip a couple of paragraphs pertaining to some unsanitary textures and stimming behaviors that I marked with a ** at the beginning of each one.

what are suzuya's trigger textures

He really doesn't like rough, scratchy textures. Tall grass or institutional carpet on bare skin, bristly animals, clothing tags, scratchy fabrics from wool to lace, suits. Anyone would learn to hide their distress at the horrible feeling of a lacy dress if the alternative was Big Madam's wrath, not worth dying over even if it's a close decision, but I think I have a little to back this up when it comes to his canon rebellion against coming to work in a proper suit.

I like to think of his canon dress code violations being a little bit of “stop telling me what to do” but also a whole lot of sensory issues with the material suits tend to be made of. If he could get away with wearing his pyjamas to work every day, he would, and I feel like he would have tried at some point. Unfortunately, what he does actually wear in canon was the best he could pull off and just be lectured by Amon as opposed to more serious disciplinary action even he can't ignore. Some of how he dresses is to have some control and fun with it in a conservative office environment when it comes to how people dress, like his patterned suspenders, but the actual fit and cuts of his outfits, ie too big for him and mostly shorter than they should be, is to minimize how much of it is touching him. His undershirts we see him wear once are probably something he wears all the time and pretty soft, another way to insulate him from that suit material texture.

Also, as an animal lover, this can prove a little problematic. My first thought is of the sheer disappointment of him petting a stray dog and ending up with like, bully breed bristles or something lodged in his shirt. Or going to a petting zoo or something with the squad and he's had a wonderful time nuzzling alpacas, sheep, rabbits, ducklings, and he's too excited to even think through it before he tries to do the same with something like a potbellied pig. Sad times. Very sad times. It's not fair that some animals can look fuzzy but actually feel like a cactus. He's safest sticking with fluffy spitzy dogs and cats haha.

**Messy textures are variable. He's not your (on Tumblr, at least) stereotypical squeamish autistic. Actually, I think he's the opposite and self-soothes by squishing and smearing gross things until Shinohara finally gets him a jar of play-dough or something to stop him from playing with dead stuff he finds on the schoolyard-- maybe being given art supplies to play with instead is what got him doing other art forms as an adult. Before it was stray animal entrails and stuff he found at the Academy, it was human organs, blood, etc. and Madam probably saw it as him learning to be a good scrapper, doing things like fingerpainting with blood or squishing a handful of organs in his hands.

**That being said, as much as he likes these textures in his hands, he has learned the hard way that most of them will make him sick if he were to put them in his mouth. Someone who didn't eat a lot of innards and similar scraps of meat over the years probably wouldn't even think to be so picky, but liver, brain, stuff like that? Good! Intestines, eyeballs, parts that are more slimy and slippery in the form they'd be thrown to him in... he would sooner go hungry, even living with Madam and not being given much else to eat. He might have liked to crush bugs as a cadet, but he probably tried and learned to draw the line at eating them. In the human world, though, he might like some of those things with the sliminess deep-fried out of them, perhaps.

Speaking of, food texture is also a type of texture, and in addition to slimy and slippery, he can't do stringy, fibrous stuff in food, especially if it is both slippery and stringy like some veggies. We know he likes sweets and snack foods, and I do think those are things he truly likes, but things like sweets are also a lot safer for someone who can be hypersensitive to the point of some mouth feels making him physically sick. Some may perceive this as childish, but to him it's just survival when the wrong bite can make him feel so awful. Some foods he just can't tolerate at all, but I can see Hanbee teaching him how to prepare fruits and vegetables in ways that don't trigger his sensory issues, as he would never be able to say “do this, do that” to Suzuya but would want him to get his vitamins and minerals. I could write a whole post about the adventurous, slightly strange eater that would be unlocked once he got a good introduction to preparing food in different ways that truly change the texture of the ingredients.

Not exactly a texture but still relating to his sense of touch, he really can't do light touch, as hyposensitive as he is to pain and deep pressure. To him, light touch is much, much more noxious than pain and he can really lash out against something brushing up against him. Often he grabs or strikes an offending hand or body part to get it away before his mind can even catch up to him, not hard, but how hard he does it doesn't always matter when people around him already perceive him as violent.

and his triggers in general too

As far as his other (sensory, which I hope is what you were wanting to know) triggers and hypersensitivities, he struggles with loud noises although his threshold for them is somewhat bigger than textures-- ie he can handle weapons clashing in battle, loud music when he's out somewhere fun, stuff with an end in sight that either can or does last short enough that it won't become too much before it's over. If it lasts too long, is too loud and piercing, he's having a sensitive day, or any combination of the above, though, it can very much push him to the meltdown point. Piercing, high-frequency sounds or too many sounds going on are also hard for him and will make him clap his hands over his ears SO FAST.

Same with bright lights. There's a threshold, he can handle them to some degree especially if there's a good (to him) reason for him to, but he's still hypersensitive to them. Fluorescent lights at the field office, for example, are another thing he's willing to get on his superiors' bad side for when he doesn't have an office and will just turn off half the lights in the bullpen (I would think they have one of those?) and when people just get annoyed and turn them back on, he would learn to mess with the breakers to where it's not easily undone and looks like an electrical problem. Amon would HATE the sight of him wearing sunglasses indoors and that would make him want to utilize this coping mechanism more. When he is a senior investigator and squad leader who does get a little office of his own, it's just barely light enough for him to read and do paperwork by.

Smells, though, I actually see him being hyposensitive to for the most part. I can see him going into a candle shop, bakery, buffet, anything with lots of options displayed in an easily accessible way and just wanting to pick up everything to sniff it, though he can't always do that because with food that is unsanitary and will get him kicked out. He also has a high tolerance that he hasn't actually found the limit to thus far for filthy crime scenes and rotting gore that even seasoned investigators have to go and vomit at the stench of.

As far as taste, though mouth feel is a different story, I see it also being a more hyposensitive sense for him. He loves to experiment with different flavors of things and is that person who seeks out foods that are really sour, really spicy, really minty, stuff like that that makes his whole face feel the taste of it. Again, would just pick things up and sample them as a stim if it wouldn't get him banned from places with delicious food, and I see him as one of those autistics to whom eating food is a stim. I can also see him liking the taste of alcoholic things for this reason, although on an unrelated note I don't see him as a drinker because he is an angry not-fun-to-be-around drunk; booze is best left as something to soak confections in or savor one single serving of, but he does like the burn.

also a guide on how to touch him right pleaaase???tyyy

As mentioned, he is a mixed bag of hyper and hyposensitivies, and deep pressure is something he seeks out just as hard has he avoids light touch. We see him do a lot of the classic signs of this kind of sensory seeking in canon, such as physically risky behaviors, indifference to pain, and constant movement. As far as sharing physical touch with another person, though, which he don't really see in canon, he has a need to be squeezed.

Starting with stuff that can be read as conventionally casual and platonic, I have mentioned he likes Akira and only Akira messing with his hair. That's for the same reason anyone else would run away screaming from having their hair done by her: the result might look amazing, unlike Touka's home hair attempts, but we know she's not the warmest character and can be just as insensitive as Suzuya in her own way as a person. As a hairstylist she really gets in there with combs and brushes and will pull to get a lock perfectly detangled or a braid tight enough to stay intact even while fighting for life and limb against an SS-rank ghoul, all while too absorbed in the task at hand to notice her victim is crying. Honestly, someone might see her updos around the office and convince themselves they can sit through it, but it's too much suffering, even for the most beautiful hair of their lives. For him, though, it's akin to a nice spa day, pleasant and relaxing. Horseplay and sparring also count as touch to him, and are pretty hard to go wrong with since that is always going to be heavy, hard bodily contact. Same with those hearty, macho claps on the shoulder I've mentioned before.

Going a little ways up the conventional ladder of intimacy, giving his hands or his shoulder a squeeze is nice and always advisable, especially when he's fidgety and stressed. Giving him a tight bear hug is the nicest, but you can't be scared to break him, or chances are you're not going to hug hard enough. He also loves to cuddle, but someone has to be laying a lot of body weight on the other. Once that is happening, though, it's even better than a weighted blanket or throwing someone to a mat. He could have a rib broken and still just be disappointed that it means he can't be physically crushed that hard again. Just like he relishes one of his cats or a stray animal laying in his lap, he likes to lean against people he knows won't shoo him away, and would also enjoy having his partner fall asleep against his shoulder or in his lap. Kisses are also fun and exciting for him, but he can't do the light pecks on the cheek and brushes of lips; gotta put some pressure and confidence into it, even if it doesn't get deeper in any other way.

Touching the rest of his body is where I see things getting emotionally fraught for him in addition to having the potential to be real overstimulating real fast. These are the areas of his body that are easily hidden by a nightshirt, a scrapper's costume, or a pretty dress without marring the beautiful doll he was supposed to be, so that's where only Madam ever touched him, and all she gave him were scars. This is where his control over the situation is just as important to him as the physical sensation being pleasant. I know my word choices sound sexual, but this doesn't even mean sex.

We know he is into underground body modification for example, but I see him being strictly DIY if he wants to feel the sensation of needles through his skin, which is the real reason he has his own stitches while not having any conventional piercings or tattoos; office rules wouldn't stop him lmao, he just can't do those himself with as much room for error. Sharing a shower or bath would be all fun and games, and he would like to wash someone's hair and body as a gesture of affection, and the hot water would be nice for him, but don't try to return the favor after he's had his fun. He would enjoy kissing someone all over in a merciless flurry, but honestly, the best way to approach something like that is to let him take what he wants and leave what he doesn't. He's direct enough that if he does want something different, he will get it. This is another small reason I think he pairs well with someone as shy to even try returning the favor as Mutsuki tbh

Hopefully it's not information you were hoping for, because I'm going to stop there as far as stages of intimacy that I googled for the purpose of this ask go. I have headcanons and things to say and would be totally cool answering more r-rated and up questions if one were to ask them directly. I just would rather disappoint someone who didn't ask for explicit content but would have liked reading it than blindside someone who didn't want to read it, you know?

[scrip-doodles]

Nightmare and his baby gang Chapter 14

Previous chapter

Nightmare was sighing like a hundred times a day. He had enough trouble and things to do with his boys. He didn’t need to add a cat to this mess!

It was like the cat knew she could stay now and didn’t need to prove she could behave. In two days she sharpened her claws on the couch, his desk, and the table and destroyed one of the boys' plushies. He had to fix the plush but like he wasn’t good at sewing it left scars, like Killer said, on the toy.  

Oh, and of course, the furball wanted to sleep in his bed. At first, Nightmare refused but after many fights with the cat, he finally made her a little nest at the end of the bed. Killer said she loved him but the guardian didn’t care.

Today was the day they left her alone in the castle for the first time. She couldn’t eat only meat so Nightmare needed to go to see a friend of his to get what a cat could need.

Convincing the boys to get out of the hideout was harder than Nightmare first thought. Thanks to Dream and his stupid friends, they were scared to go out. With time he managed to convince them to give it a try but Cross was still having nightmares.

“Boys it’s time to go!”

One after the other his boys came with scarves and hats, ready to go to Cinno’s universe. The coffee shop of his friends was in Snowdin and the last thing this house needed was a sick child. He took Horror in his arms and gave a tentacle to each of his other kids.

“Do we really have to do this?” Cross asked with a small voice clinging as hard as he could to his dad’s tentacle.

“Cross we talked about this. You can’t stay in the castle all your life. Besides Cinno’s coffee shop is closing in an hour so there won’t be a lot of people.”

Cross’s face made Nightmare frown a little. He had no idea how to deal with kid trauma. Heck, he wasn’t even dealing with his!

He took Cross in his tentacle and brought him closer to his face. He kissed the little skeleton’s skull and softly petted him.

“Nothing will happen to you Cross. I promise. You trust me right?”

“Of course!” Cross exclaimed, hugging his father.

“Then don’t worry. I’ll protect you and I won’t let anyone take you away from me.” 

Since Cross seemed to feel better after those words, Nightmare crossed the portal with the kids. It went better than last time and none of them got sick.

Cinno’s universe was just like Nightmare remembered, calm but warm. Coming here always made the guardian feel at peace so he wanted the boys to discover this place too.

“I think you’ll like the place,” Nightmare said when he entered his friend’s shop.

Like he thought there were barely three people in the coffee shop. At this hour there were never a lot of customers and that was why Nightmare always chose this time to come. 

“Nightmare! There you are! It’s been weeks since I last saw you!” Cinno said with a kind smile.

Cross and Dust hid behind the guardian, a little scared of this new adult that clearly wasn’t afraid of their dad. Horror was looking at him intensely and Killer was amazed by the number of cats present in the shop.

“You smell like muffins!” Horror exclaimed when Cinno got closer to hug Nightmare.

The barista looked at the four little boys in front of him and smiled with little stars in his eyes. 

“You didn’t tell me you had such cute little treasures!”

“Well…Uh…Yeah…A lot happened…” Nightmare said vaguely while he was trying to get Cross to let his leg go.

Dust was with Horror now he esteemed the new adult wasn’t as dangerous as he first thought. Killer was trying to get Cross to the nap spot of the cats.

“Come on Crossy! Let’s go see the fluffy cats!”

Cross clung to Nightmare’s leg harder as he didn’t want to leave the guardian’s side. Cinno slowly approached the little skeleton and gave him a chocolate candy with a warm smile.

Cross waited for a little to see if it was a trap but when he understood the barista wouldn’t move, he took the candy and ran away from the adult to join his little brothers.

“Thank you…” The little oreo said before following Killer to the cat’s lair.

“They’re adorable Night.”

“They will be the death of me one day, you’ll see.” Nightmare said, watching his kids playing with some of the cats.

Cinno prepared himself and Nightmare a coffee and joined his friend at the table he chose. The guardian looked happy but concerned at the same time. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” The barista asked, worried about his old friend.

Nightmare turned to him looking surprised. It was funny how the guardian could detect and identify the emotions of other people but never his own. Cinno sited before the other skeleton could say anything and gave him a cup of black coffee as the guardian liked.

“How did you know?”

“It’s been four years now since the first time you came here. I had plenty of time to know you Night. You’re not as hard to understand as you think. Your emotions are all over your face” Cinno said with a playful smile.

Nightmare blushed a little. Embarrassed to be read that easily by his friend he started to drink his coffee avoiding the other’s look.  Talking about his problem with Cinno always helped him in the past but he knew the barista had his own trouble, and adding his often made him feel guilty. With an umpteenth sigh, Nightmare started talking. 

“I told you about my gang, right? Well almost two months ago a bug occurred in their codes and they ended up like this” Nightmare said pointing at the children that were now playing with the cats.

“They’re your gang?!” Cinno exclaimed dumbfounded by the news.

“Error is trying to fix it but apparently it’s harder than we first thought. I managed to find how to take care of them but not so long ago Cross followed me in an Au. The meeting with the stars sanses didn’t go well at all. Now thanks to Dream and his stupid friends they’re all scared to death of the outside of the castle. You can’t imagine how much time it took me to convince them to come here.”

“I see…”Cinno answered a little shocked by the story.

He didn’t imagine Dream, Ink or Blue could attack a child but he knew Nightmare wouldn’t lie about that, especially if it concerned his brother. He was about to drink his coffee when out of a sudden a big fluffy cat jumped on the table. He looked intensely at the tired guardian and lay on his lap before falling asleep.

Nightmare was petrified and wasn’t moving even a finger. Cinno laughed at his friend's nervous expression. Nightmare's little fear of cats always made him laugh especially since he was the favorite customer of the felines of the shop.

“Need a hand?” The barista asked with a teasing smile while Nightmare was starting to be nervous.

“Shut up and hurry to take your furball away from me!” The guardian exclaimed, looking a little pissed at his teasing friend.

“Dad! Dad! Look! The kitty is so cute!!” Killer exclaimed putting a really big cat under his father's nose bone. 

Nightmare internally screamed when the new cat got so close to his face. He backed as away as he could from the vicious beast without waking up the one on his lap. 

“Killer take that thing away and put it down. It has legs so it can walk.” 

As soon as Killer let the cat go, the feline decided to go near Nightmare as well. When he started purring Nightmare grimaced as if the cat was a ticking bomb.

“Awww he loves you too dad!” Killer exclaimed happily.

Nightmare forced a fake smile on his face and turned to Cinno with a look that said “Hurry and get them away!” but when the barista moved to help his friend a few more cats came to sleep and play around the guardian. Cinno wheezed while Killer was looking amazed, all the cats loved his dad!

Apparently, it was too much for the guardian, his tentacles were becoming sharper and started moving all around him. 

“Cinno! Do something!!” Nightmare screamed when one of the cats started rubbing his head against his arms.

*****

Blue distractedly played with some of Error’s strings. His friend took him into the anti-void so they could watch Undernovela together. Blue loved spending time with the destroyer, he knew the lonely skeleton wasn’t as bad as everyone thought. Behind this grumpy face and angry side was a caring and kind friend.

Blue really wanted to be happy with Error and just watch Undernovela all afternoon but he couldn’t get the last fight with Nightmare out of his head. The terrified expression of Cross was still vivid in his mind. Too shocked to do anything he didn’t even move to help and rescue the child. Now Nightmare had him and he couldn’t do anything about that.

“What’s wrong? You would have laughed at least five times for now but you didn’t even say a word.” Error asked, opening a new chocolate candy.

Blue jumped surprised by the sudden interruption of his thought. He didn’t want to speak about this with Error but perhaps his friend could help him with his problem. After all, Error was hanging with Nightmare sometimes, if someone could help him with the guardian it was his friend.

“Well…Last time we fought against Nightmare we saw Cross…He was well not himself?”

Seeing Error’s shocked expression, he knew something about Cross's new appearance. When his friend started to nervously fidget his fingers Blue turned to him, now convinced Error knew what was going on. 

“Error what’s going on with Nightmare gang? Please tell me.”

“Oh yeah, so you can tell your precious lovers about it as soon as you see them?!”

Blue winced when the destroyer started getting angry. His relationship with Ink and Dream was always a source of disputes between him and Error. His friend didn’t understand why Blue stayed with them and it didn’t help he hated Ink with everything he got. 

“Error they could be in danger with Nightmare! It’s more important than your hate for Ink, they’re stuck with Nightmare!”

It wasn’t the thing to say apparently since Error’s anger got stronger. The destroyer snapped his finger and suddenly Blue found himself trapped in blue strings. The little warrior groaned when the strings started to attack his code.

“ None of you know anything and you all act recklessly! You, the stupid sunshine and that garbage creator! It’s your fault if the multiverse is like this! Don’t you dare to do anything to Nightmare!”

“Hey! Don’t talk about Ink and Dream like that! They’re the most amazing people I ever met!” Blue angrily screamed. 

What Error knew about them? Nothing! They were always fighting so hard for everyone's happiness even if it was hard they never gave up. They were wonderful.

“Oh yeah? Well if they’re so amazing why don’t you tell them about our meetings? They’re not so open-minded as you think!”

Blue was angry, too much for his own good. The words he said, he regretted them so much as soon as they left his mouth. Error expression was awful, he looked so hurt…

“Well, at least they’re not heartless monsters that destroy people’s worlds and live!!”

Hands-on his mouth Blue looked at Error, sorry for him. He didn’t want to say that…He was angry and he let his emotions take over…He knew that Error’s destruction was a touchy subject and that it made the destroyer really sad so why did he say that?!

“Error…I’m sorry I didn’t want to…” Blue said, his hand getting closer to his friend.

The strings weren’t keeping him motionless anymore, from shock Error released them on the ground. When the small skeleton came closer to him the destroyer stepped back. He didn’t want him near him at all. Soon the voices from the anti-void started to scream again. It became hard for the destroyer to see his surroundings since glitches obliterated his vision. 

“You want to see Nightmare so much right? Then go! I don’t want to see you anymore! Just stay away from me!!” Error screamed before opening a pixel portal under Blue feet.

“Wait Error don’t!” 

Blue tried to get a grip on something but there was nothing around him. The last thing he saw from the anti-void was his phone on the ground and Error crying and covered in glitches.

“Error!!

[nightlilly0110]

I had to watch this in high school health/gym one year and I will say that none of us gave a shit about it but a lot of adults around us treated this “documentary” as gospel when it came to healthy eating and it goes to show you what a lack of context/research/media literacy does to people. Yes, he did get sick from eating a shit ton of McDonalds. But also:

1) He was an alcoholic. Horrifically so. The doctor in the movie telling him he was bad off was because of his addiction but it’s edited so it looks like he’s talking about the diet in general.

2) He stated in the documentary that both he and his girlfriend were vegetarian and had been for years. He went from full on vegetarian to eating 2-3 meat based meals a day. That’s a huge change in diet. That’ll fuck up anyone.

3) One of the conditions of the challenge? Test? (I’m not calling it an experiment) Was that he had to say yes if asked to supersize (hence the title of the documentary) so not only was he forcing himself to eat meat after not doing so for years, he also willingly increased his intake. (He also for some reason included drinking pop as part of the challenge, which isn’t exclusive to fast food companies and this has nothing to do with anything just weird in my opinion)

4) I’m not a science guy. But even I know that if you want to conduct this sort of test, you have multiple test subjects and pick people who are actually healthy and don’t have any underlaying issues (such as the aforementioned alcoholism) so it doesn’t skew the results. A group tried to replicate this task and none of them got the same results as Spurlock.

5) If you eat any one thing for long enough, you will get sick. (Insert that Tumblr post about that guy that ate meatballs every day and then got scurvy.)

I’m also just genuinely convinced that this documentary made way for a lot of the diet shit that gets passed around on the internet now. Not just about fast food but just upped the ideals about dieting in general. One of the points about Supersize Me was that it was a diet of meat (specifically processed meat) that was making this guy sick, and after this got released I definitely noticed an uptick in the “meat isn’t good for you” sentiment and vegan alternatives started to gain more traction.

Rest in peace Morgan Spurlock and let us never forget that Super Size Me was an extremely poorly made and completely unscientific documentary that shouldn't be celebrated

[casspurrjoybell-20]

FOOLS IN LOVE - Chapter 23 - Part 1 BOOK THREE: 'Fools Fall in Love' Trilogy

*Warning - Adult Content*

Samuel Moretti

I was going to do it, I was but as soon as I saw Benjamin in my dorm room, the thought of breaking up with him left me feel sick to my stomach with guilt.

"Hey baby," he greeted me when I opened the door.

I gave him a smile, hoping he couldn't see my discomfort as he leaned in and kissed me.

The kiss didn't feel the same as it usual did.

Usually, kissing him made me feel at ease.

Now I just felt... nothing.

We pulled back.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" he asked me, walking into my dorm and sitting on my bed.

I closed the door and walked over to sit next to him.

'Okay, Sam, you can do this.'

Just tell him it's not working out.

No, tell him you guys are moving too fast. Tell him 'it's not you, it's me'.

"Um, well..."

I took a deep breath and looked Benjamin in the eyes.

His innocent eyes that I was about to make sad.

"There's a party tonight that Kai and I are going to. I wanted you to come."

'You stupid, dumb, idiotic meat-head.' '

"Huh? A party?" he questioned like going to parties was below him.

"Yes, please, you never go with me."

Maybe I just needed to remind myself that Benjamin actually can be fun and remember the reason I started dating him in the first place.

A night out could help.

At least, that's what I told myself.

"I really don't want to go and you shouldn't either."

He looked like he'd rather do anything else but he gave in.

"Fine, I guess but we're not staying late."

"We won't," I promised, leaning in to kiss him but things took a turn for us at the party and I saw Benjamin as clear as day for the first time.

**********

Benjamin and I drove to the party while Kai met us there since he was coming from his girlfriend's house.

Kai got there first and was already taking photos of people partying.

I smiled, he was really going to be the best photographer one day.

Then his camera turned on Benjamin and I before putting his camera down to hang around his neck.

"You guys made it."

"Didn't think we would?" I questioned lightheartedly.

Kai looked at Benjamin then back at me and shrugged.

"Didn't know if you'd change your mind but I'm glad you didn't," he had a broad smile.

"I captured Dylan cheating on Quinn. I can't wait to show her."

I didn't know who those people were but I couldn't help but laugh.

"I think you find too much joy in catching people cheat."

"It's a full time job," Kai deadpanned.

"Pfft okay, well we're gonna go find something to drink," I said, grabbing Benjamin's hand and dragging us towards the kitchen.

I grabbed a red solo cup and Benjamin took it from me.

"Hey."

"You're not drinking tonight and we're not gonna be here for long anyway."

"Ben," I tugged on his button up shirt, getting him to step closer to me.

"Loosen up. We're at a party, I know you don't care for them but try to have a good time, okay?" I asked.

"Fine but no drinking."

I sighed.

"Okay, I won't drink. Now can we go dance?" I asked desperate to have some fun.

I was in need of some fun, to just relax and enjoy myself.

No worries and definitely not thinking about Noah.

"Maybe later we can sneak off to a bedroom and..."

Benjamin grimaced.

"We're not having sex on some random bed."

'Ugh.'

"Let's dance," I said and was going to step away but Benjamin stopped me.

"I'm sorry, these thing just make me uncomfortable," he apologized with his hands on my waist.

"I know, it's okay. I'm just happy you came with me," I told him but I wasn't too sure if that was an honest statement.

"But tonight when we go back to my dorm, we can do... whatever you want," he said suggestively.

I grinned and pressed my lips to his.