#but forgiveness and all that shit that Jesus was about?

[probablygayattorneys]

Good news! I finally got my Classy Action Law Suit poster AND it’s a perfect fit for my puzzle game poster wall!

Bad news

I can’t stop obsessing over the implications of Franziska wearing a cross.

[iridescentoracle]

Hello! I am here to ask about your Dior headcanons re: the political cohesion of Doriath. 👀

Oh man, I didn't expect anyone to actually take me up on that!

(Okay so I got partway into writing this and then realized I should probably note up front that I tend to stick to the Silm (& LOTR/the Hobbit where applicable, but they... aren't, here) as the most authoritative version of canon, and I can get into why and where the nuances/exceptions are there (I do say tend to stick, it's not hard and fast!), but that's mostly a side note here: the point is simply that I don't really factor other drafts or the poetic Leithian into my take on Doriath, Thingol, Dior, etc, just what we're told in the actual Silm. I also read the Silm as an in-universe history text compiled by in-universe scholars, who, being people, are going to have their own biases and blind spots, even when they're doing their best to be accurate!)

So, this is a two-part thing: #1, there's the political cohesion of Doriath before & at the time of Thingol's death, which i talked about in the tags of the post that prompted this ask but is kind of necessary as context for the Dior part to make sense, and #2, there's the actual Dior headcanons. Both of these parts are very long because I've never really seen anyone else suggest any of this stuff and I want to explain where I'm coming from thoroughly enough that it actually makes sense to people who aren't me, but the TL;DRs:

TL;DR 1: I think Doriath was probably a hot mess politically after Thingol died, with tensions between various groups of Sindar and Laiquendi in the leadup to Thingol's death & Melian's departure, and more political tensions afterwards between those who wanted Beren & Lúthien to come be the new rulers, and those who thought they should stay gone, with someone still in Doriath taking over.

TL;DR 2: I think Dior became Eluchil, potentially at the request of some portion of the Iathrim, hoping to help prevent Doriath from devolving into civil war, and saw dealing with the Silmaril-Fëanorioni situation as a lower priority than stabilizing Doriath's internal political situation until it was too late.

1. The political cohesion (or rather, lack thereof) in Doriath prior to Thingol's death

So, okay, the thing about Doriath is that we don't actually have any real idea of like... how much the Iathrim liked being the Iathrim? We're never told about any intra-Iathrim conflict, but a) the Silm was probably compiled mostly by surviving Gondolindrim or their descendants, so they wouldn't know about anything liike that unless surviving Iathrim told them, and after the Second Kinslaying I don't imagine many Iathrim would've been eager to talk about how things had actually been tense/messy/etc when they could remember everything as having been perfect until it was ruined by the Fëanorionrim, and doubly so after the Third Kinslaying, so why would anything like that make it into the Silm?

and b) what we do know about Doriath is that it wasn't really Doriath as we know it until Morgoth came back to Middle-earth, and everything went to hell.

At the start of the first age, you suddenly get Doriath (the fenced land!) being the one protected area of a continent that used to be totally free and open. How many Sindar actually didn't particularly care for Thingol's style of leadership, or simply preferred to live nomadic lives, going basically wherever they pleased, until suddenly that wasn't safe anymore, and you were only guaranteed survival if you were close enough to Menegroth to be within the Girdle when it went up? ditto how many Laiquendi had no interest in swearing loyalty to Thingol right after their own king had just been killed, but again, made it to safety and stayed there over taking their chances on their own in the outside world?

I think it's entirely possible that there were always potential political tensions under the surface in Doriath that just... never got written about, because they never boiled over into actual political conflict, and so it was never the sort of tension that had any bearing on the historical record.

Except then Beren & Lúthien happen to the world, and a few years later the Narn, and in the blink of an eye suddenly the only king Doriath has ever had is dead, and the only queen Doriath has ever had is gone and the Girdle with her—and more than that, the only rulers the Sindar had ever had for three thousand years before Doriath existed.

And where a few years earlier I think the Iathrim would probably have turned pretty universally to Lúthien, now she's abandoned them for her human husband—and while she's my favorite character in the entire legendarium hands-down and I don't blame her, I think that's another place there might have actually been some very mixed feelings among the Iathrim that nobody wanted to admit to later because how could anyone have been upset with Lúthien—and on top of her abandoning them for him, I think it's extremely probable most of Doriath did not actually get over their xenophobia about humans in general or Beren in specific when Thingol did (we know for sure at least some of Doriath didn't, cf. Saeros insulting Túrin's mother & sister to his face), but again, who's going to admit to having had a grudge against the holy couple of Middle-earth after the fact, you know?

Conversely, there could've been a sizeable faction of Sindar who had been totally loyal to Thingol until everything happened with Beren & Lúthien, but who found his actions towards them and/or Finrod to be where they drew the line, and while (unlike B&L themselves) that faction stayed in Doriath, there could've been a new, additional tension on that front.

Finally, for all we know there were multiple factions within the Laiquendi of Doriath, with political tensions stretching back to before their king died, rooted in who-even-knows!

2. Dior

All of that, of course, sets up a very, very messy political situation for Dior to walk into.

The Doriath stuff is arguably more speculation than actual headcanon, but here's where the unambiguous headcanons come in: I don't think "Dior Eluchil set himself to raise anew the glory of the kingdom of Doriath." Obviously that's how it got written down, but bluntly, I can't see Beren and Lúthien having a kid that stupid or, like, power-hungry and arrogant?

What I can see is a situation where the messenger that brought word of Thingol's death and Melian's departure asked Beren & Lúthien to come take over as the new king and queen, we promise we're not mad about you leaving and we won't be xenophobic to your husband anymore we swear it's fine now pretty please, Beren & Lúthien said no, and the messenger either asked Dior as a second choice, or said "okay fine none of that was actually true but Doriath is falling apart and we need a leader ASAP and there's about eight different contenders* (mostly kinsmen of Thingol or Laiquendi) being backed by various factions and it's going to devolve into civil war any minute so if you care at all—" and Dior said "would I do?"

(* Ask me about my Galadriel headcanon)

I don't think Dior necessarily wanted to be king of Doriath, and I don't think he saw the throne as his birthright or anything like that; I don't think anyone involved, from Thingol to Lúthien to Dior himself, ever considered the possibility of Thingol dying and needing an heir! I think it's possible he was asked, or at most that he offered, and either way, I think he saw becoming king as taking on a responsibility for the sake of others.

(Which, like, "well here's a potentially impossible task that I'm going to take up even though probably no one thinks I'm actually capable of it, but it's my duty to help others as best I can" sure does sound to me like an attitude one might develop when raised by Lúthien "I kicked Sauron's ass cast a sleep spell on Morgoth and persuaded the Valar to find a loophole in the fabric of reality" Tinuviel and Beren "I stayed by my father's side as an outlaw to give my mother time to lead the rest of our people away hopefully to safety knowing I would never see her or any of them again (and then spent several years being a giant thorn in Morgoth's side for good measure)" Barahirion, where "apparently my grandpa I may or may not have ever met died, guess that makes me the king of a place i may or may not have ever been" does... not.)

I also think he either took on the epithet Eluchil, or was given it by whichever factions of the Iathrim accepted him as king, when he actually became king. Obviously he's going to be referred to as Dior Eluchil even before that in retrospect because that's how he's thought of later, but that doesn't mean it was actually a name he always had, you know?

The final thing is, I think if Dior essentially walked into a political situation five seconds from devolving into civil war, it makes his inaction regarding the Silmaril prior to the Second Kinslaying make more sense: the Fëanorioni have been sitting around doing nothing about the Silmaril in Doriath / with Beren & Lúthien this whole time, the letter saying "hey that's our Silmaril give it back now" is probably just a formality, and Dior's only been ruling for a couple years, there's still plenty of people dubious about whether he should be king at all, he might well be subject to at least some of whatever xenophobia remains about humans in Doriath, and in general all the work he's done on stabilizing the kingdom will absolutely come undone again if he screws up; he's trying to keep a kingdom from falling apart, the Silmaril thing can wait.

Of course, it wasn't a formality, and it couldn't wait, but why would Dior have known that?

[rosepetalsthings]

Me, fighting the urge to argue with people on Tumblr

[ditzybat]

jason in the batman suit with all his guns and artillery: what the hell tim, did you just club me in the head with a lead pipe???!

tim: JESUS FUCKING CHRIST - you scared the shit out of me, i thought you were me from the alternate future coming to haunt me again

jason: why would i be you from the future?

tim: well all the guns and muttering about how twisted society is like some unfortunate bond villain coupled with wearing B’s suit really gave me a sense of de ja vu - so forgive me for trying to kill my future self

jason: … you desperately need therapy, and this is coming from me of all people

[radfemsiren]

Just a reminder that any religions preaching about forgiveness, mercy, gods light… read the terms and conditions! That shit doesn’t apply to women :

When people tried to defend her:

Christian men love salvation for their sins, they’ll even absolve pedophiles and rapists, but the second an onlyfans girl shows up for redemption, their true nature is revealed.

Im not even being hyperbolic, there’s been multiple instances this last year of onlyfans models trying to rebrand and join the Jesus freak crowd, and Christian men lost their fucking minds. The same men who gleefully allow domestic abusers and sexual predators free clearance into their flock with a warm embrace, shut the door real quick on women whose worst crimes were having sex before marriage

Islam, Christianity, Judaism… all for and by men, not us!

[snekdood]

Idk about yall but i can kinda continue to have empathy for my fellow human even after they abused me and still not forgive them lol

[planete777]

I WANT YOU BAD・⁠｡♪ LN4

( lando norris x fem!reader )

IN WHICH. y/n (and a good joint) is lando's best distraction. (based on this ask)

WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI!, drug use (as per), unprotected p in v, riding, lordddd they are filty, dirty talk, squirting, high hotness pt 345345, lando is in love with the reader (as per pt. 2), guys it's just filth filth filth

NOTE. yoohoooo im soo back!!! first fic release after like 3 months haha.... but it's high!lando so, forgive me plz 😔🙏 anyways, i'm slowly getting back into the groove of writing (i only wrote a tad bit during my break smh) and im sorry if im a bit rusty. hopefully, its only up from here. enjoy my dearest readers, and feedback is always welcomed <3

SIDENOTE. my askbox is open! feel free to send in any thoughts, scenarios, requests etc for lando 🤍

there's a gentle, warm thrum that bubbles beneath lando's skin, like a premise of excitement, tendrils of smoke tearing and stitching sentience with sluggish countenance. doesn't see a thing beyond a feet before him, and can't feel anything (yet feels everything) sauf the familiar radiation of body heat from the girl pressed limply into him.

two things for the price of one, it barely gets better than this. he feels like a magic act, cartoonish smears of smoke coalescing, then dimming as he inhales and exhales and inhales again. every taut stress from the day slowly flakes off his muscles, and succeeding another drag of the joint, he lets a gentle sigh huff out of him.

"better now?"

y/n's voice sounds like soft lace in his ears, and she snuggles closer into his shoulder, hand splayed, and weighty, upon his chest. she feels completely dead, always getting too high too fast, but never lets the warnings rid her of the euphoria. lando knows that, and can't blame her either; there's something unequivocally beautiful about getting high and losing the ability to connect one thought to another.

he shifts- he thinks he does so- rolling the spliff between his fingers before curling his lips to push out the smoke that began to scratch striations into his throat.

"yeah," he drawls out, "never go wrong with a good spliff."

y/n just barely giggles, palm rubbing up and down lando's chest. he swears he's on fucking fire, neurones charging and buzzing and crackling at every heightened numbness, and all he can do is take another drag.

there's a blanket of silence, comfortable and observing, before lando feels her, wantonly, drag her hand over his crotch then squeezes; and, jesus fucking christ, the moan that's punched out of him is ungodly.

"y/n- fucking hell," he leaves it at that, slowly swivelling his head towards her. she's smiling, largely and so gorgeously that lando feels like he's levitating. why is she looking at him like that?

"wanna fuck you, lan'," she whispers, redundant because it's already so damningly filthy, "make you lose your shit."

lando is struck speechless and completely horny, blood swelling his cock to where it edges pain, but god, does it feel so fucking good that all he can do is moan and tighten his grip on y/n's thigh sprawled across his body.

she smirks, sitting upright and slides to straddle lando, hips grinding heavily into his and the pressure is glorious.

"you like that, huh?" she bites her lower lip and presses harder, lando's head lolling to the backrest of the armchair. he could cum right into his pants if his motive wasn't to do it deep into y/n's cunt instead.

"you know i do, baby," he takes another drag, doesn't know how he musters the effort to, "you riding me is a sight."

she giggles, "just staring at my tits as i'm doing so, you fucker."

lando shakes his head, "nah, i meant all of you, baby. so beautiful," then he's smiling and pulling her into a kiss that's just tongue and want, lando gripping a hand around her nape. he can die like this, he thinks, encompassed in the feeling of a throbbing dick and a sloppy, wet mouth— all of it.

y/n curls her fingers around the hem of his joggers, lifting her hips- their lips still attached- and sliding them down his thighs. cool air caresses his cock, pulsating, weeping and redder than she's ever seen it before, lando moaning at the relief as it slaps against his abdomen.

"oh lan' look at you," she whispers, wrapping her hand around his cock (the way he squirms at that is indescribable), "you need my pussy that bad?"

it's all faux concern, but it does the trick, lando nodding and on the verge of sobbing when she clenches her fist.

"come on- fuck me, y/n," he's whining and squirming, hands grabbing at her shorts to tug it off after wedging the joint between his lips. she stands up, lando's hands trailing away as she goes to slide them off, crumpling at her feet. and all lando thinks is mylovemylovemylove. his skin burns like he's being dipped in lava, yanking his shirt off and throwing it to the ground.

the girl wastes no time crawling back into his lap, hovering over his erect cock as she takes both hands, spreads her cheeks and sheaths him in.

"y/n- ohh fuckkk-"

the slide— it's so so good, lando's losing his mind, he wants to ask 'no prep?' but fuck, she's taking him so well that he just shuts off. he pants roughly, eyes squeezing shut as she whines and bottoms out, feeling deeper than he has ever been. he's tingling everywhere, a shaking a hand plucking his spliff out of his mouth and unto the couch, feeling y/n's tight, hot pussy grip him with every inch of its life. and just when he thinks it's nearly too much, she starts to move.

y/n grinds and bounces like a fucking pornstar, shirt and bra she had on a few minutes ago strewn somewhere in the room, tits jumping and nipples swollen. oh, it's such a view and as much as lando wants to keep watching, a spark of pleasure causes his eyes to hurl to the back of his head, body flushed deeply and mouth slackened as it leaks a thick moan.

"your cock, lan'- shit, i'm gonna cum so hard," y/n's voice sounds so ruined and lando is obsessed with it, eyes opening as he gives her a small smirk. hands run all over her body- her legs, her breasts- before settling on her ass and languidly dragging it up and down his cock. y/n's reaction is immediate, trembling and crying out a high pitched moan that almost has lando cumming right there.

"i want you to cum so hard, baby. this is your cock," he huffs, hips thrusting upwards and slapping against y/n's ass. the sounds make his mind go static; it's so filthily good, skin hitting skin.

y/n smashes her lips against lando's as she works her hips harder, feeling the cold metal of his chain bind to chest. they can barely kiss, panting into each other's mouth- then lando's cock stabs her g spot, hard, and she's screaming and cumming, liquid running between her thighs and cunt squeezing lando so damn tight, he's pushing her hips into his, yelping, and spurting cum, thick and warm, into y/n.

"fuck fuck fuck- oh god baby, just like that," lando speaks into her skin, "just like that."

he rolls his hips to ride out their highs, pleasure setting deep in his veins before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her towards him, leaning back.

"fuck, i love you," lando whispers, pressing kisses into her shoulder.

"even when i squirt all over you?"

lando smirks, placing a kiss on her lips, "especially when you squirt, baby.

[sun-snatcher]

Wish. If u give me a Part 2 of your Gambit fic with ❛ we'll just have to make do.  ❜ where they both make it out of the Void together I will kiss u on the mouth rn I PROMISE u. Or a hug. Whichever works. PLS I JUST NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS TO THEM🙏🏼😫

♧ ⎯ ‘LIMBO LOSERS’ CLUB

summ. The TVA extends an olive branch. Wade’s Universe becomes home. Above all, you’re just thankful you’re not alone in this Multiversal mess. pairing. Void!Gambit x f!Anomaly!reader (established in #WELUCKYFEW) w.count. 1.6k a/n. Shirtless Channing + romantic hand tension. That's it. That's the tweet. ( Continuation of this imagine! )

YOU SURVIVE ALIOTH.

That’s the first surprise.

The second? 

The Time Variance Authority want to help, now. 

( Granted, it’d mostly been Wade who did the gruntwork of sending Elektra and Blade back to their Universes, but he had hit a wall when it came to you and Gambit considering you two were— according to him: “A coked up version of being homeless. Universe-less.” )

So here you are, a stray of the Multiverse, standing on the platform of a mid-century aestheticised monitor room somewhere outside the constraints of time, trying not to double over from the vertiginous aftermath of being thrown through Wade’s weird orange warbling door of space. 

TemPad, he’d called the device. Or… something. You’re half-sure you have a concussion, to be honest.

Alioth had done a number on you. 

Remy’s concerned.

“Here’s what I don’t understand,” Wade says, mask rolled up to his nose. (There’s a spoon and plate of key lime pie in his hands. You’re not even sure where he got it from.) “Where did Gambit come from? How come he just spawned into the MCU’s metaphysical Backrooms?”

“Candidly, he is a unique case.” 

Remy pulls his gaze from you to Hunter B-15.

“You, Mr. LeBeau, are the prime example of a Variant that’s borne from a timeline decaying just as quickly as it was formed. A rare type that fades instantly without unnatural interference, because an Anchor failed to develop.”

One of the CRT screens zip to a retro rubber-hose animated diagram: rapidly branching roots, ominous red flashing, and then an immediate blink into nothing. Talk about dramatic effect.

“Your Universe falls in the rare category of those that never managed to come into fruition; but sometimes— incredibly rarely— remnants just like you manage to slip through, and instead of ceasing to exist… Well, you automatically end up getting spit into the Void.”

A pause.

Then, from behind, Wade bursts into a cackle.

“Ha! Wow, she basically called you a discontinued fucking nobody,” he wheezes. “You’re quite literally the equivalent of a failed movie pitch that’s been forgotten on the floor of Feige’s writers’ room.”

Screens flicker. 

Your breath hitches. 

Versions of different Gambit’s play out in the monitor-wall, all alike and yet different in their individual realities. Some have black eyes. Some have top-hats (“Ah, that’s 2009 Origins,” Wade muses. “Do all Variants of you just have a beautiful face? I mean, it’s kinda unfair—”). 

Some look like identical copies.

[EARTH-TRN2922].

It’s… your timeline. 

Your friends in the Mutant war. Your Remy whose cards are scattered on the floor, blood in his hands, with you crumbling as you reach ou—

The Nine of Hearts in your pocket is impossibly heavy. You turn away to steel yourself. 

( “Yeah, okay, enough lore recap. Jesus, you guys are more of a dick than I am; Read the room and turn that shit off,” Wade chides a passing agent. He gets it. He’d lost Vanessa once, too, and he’s not quite sure even he can relive that pain. )

“Mais non, y’not makin’ no sense t’me,” Remy says, confused, “I’ve got memories; means I’ve got history jus’ like my Variants. How y’gon’ explain that?”

“Gaps of memories you have— knowledge of places, people, events— that comes from fixed synchronicities shared in your Temporal Aura across all your Multiversal Variants.” 

She’s met with slow, owlish blinks. Wade waves his hand in lazy dismissal.

“Forgive them. They didn’t watch Loki Season One or Two. Not that it matters, anyway. People barely understood what was going on.”

A sigh. “There’s no way to put this gently, Mr LeBeau,” B-15 concludes, tone dipping into something sympathetic. “But what I’m trying to say is that: you don’t have a Universe to go back to, because it never existed.”

She purses her lips as she catches his torn gaze. “I’m sorry.”

And that— That pisses you off.

“I’m… sorry?” you parrot, stepping forward. “That’s all you can say after everything that’s happened to us? His existence began with the Void, and my Universe was pruned by your agents. Innocent lives gone because your people decided they wanted to play God once upon a damn time—!” 

“Pump the hate breaks, you stray,” Wade calls. "Why'd you think I brought the both of you here?"

You reluctantly withdraw.

“I can’t bring you home,” B-15 supplies, matter-of-fact. “But I can find a compatible timeline for you. For both of you. A safe do-over, if you will.”

Wade’s smile is coy.

The ‘Merc with a mouth’ has a home surprisingly… cozy.

Albeit a little tumbledown and messy with its wallpaper-torn brick walls and creaking hardwood floors— but, it’s charming. Lived in. He has a life here in this rickety two-bedroom apartment; framed photographs of friends and snatches of livelihood sit across dressers and are pasted against his magnet-crowded refrigerator.

Reminds you abit of your home, too.

“Listen,” chirps Wade’s voice, somewhere down the short hall to his room. “My advice? Save yourself the identity crisis and brain aneurysm. All this multiversal horse-crap was created just so that Marvel can write themselves out of any corner. Just sit there and be sexy for the readers, okay, Magic Mike?”

You’re halfway towards them when the doorbell rings. 

“Ooh! That must be the pizza I ordered. Or Blind Al. Or Logan.” Wade pops out to sidle past you with a wink and a whispered: “Who knows, really? This is just the part of the story where I conveniently disappear so you and Cajun Tatum here can share a moment.”

You don’t quite understand— but you’ve learned to not bother attempting when it comes to him.

Your knock is soft against the doorframe. 

“Hey.”

Beside a lone corner of the bed, Remy turns to look over his shoulder. 

He’s fresh out the shower— faded towel tied around his waist, brown hair still damp and dripping water down his bare chest. His old clothes have been draped over a desk chair. 

You try not to stare, but—

But. 

He’s handsome. Devilishly so, with the bruises sweeping across the flex of all his stupidly lean, corded muscles.

You always had a thing for roguish-looking men.

“Hi,” he says, knowingly. ( It’s a dulcet croon, if anything. Cheeky bastard. ) “Y’okay? Got y’self cleaned up.”

Remy watches you gather yourself with a quick clear of your throat, pull at the sleeves of the scratchy hoodie you’re now wearing that’s practically swallowing you whole. 

You look rested. At ease. 

…Pretty.

“Yeah. Showered. We don’t smell like ass anymore, that’s for sure,” you say, making a face.

And then you’re nodding over to the black-and-blue contusions blooming over his skin. “You know, I’m sure there’s something frozen in the icebox for that.”

“Icebox?” 

You smile. “Yeah, that’s what you guys call it in Louisiana, right?”

“That we do, chèr,” he laughs. But it’s ducked down, quiet. Thin. “ ‘Least, I think so.”

You follow his downcast eyes to a small stack of folders— TVA files he easily thieved (unsurprisingly) from under their noses the moment he stepped foot into the room. 

He’d skimmed the manila dossiers: Absolute Points. Anchor Beings. Variant Anomalies. Some names he’d recognised and some he didn’t, most stamped or blacklisted. 

Pietro Maximoff. Edward Brock. Loki Laufeyson. 

Remy LeBeau.

Some part of you crumples. It’s one thing to not be able to return to a Universe, and another to not have even had one. 

“S’funny,” he chuckles dryly, picking his casefile up with a distant look, “My memories… I thought I’d done gon’ left a whole life behind me the entire time I been stuck in the Void— Friends. Family. An’ turns out the Void’s all I had.”

“Feels like…” he shrugs. Tries to piece his unmoored thoughts into something more cohesive. He’s never felt so horrifically adrift his entire life— whatever ‘entire life’ could mean for him now, anyway— not even when he'd been marooned in the barren wastelands of the Void.

 “Feels like I ain’t real. Hell, I don’t know what is real, anymore, chèr. I don’t— I just don’t know. I don't know anythin'."

You shake your head in disagreement nigh instantly. 

“No, no.” Pushing off the doorway, you cross the threshold with gentle admonishment lanced over your features. “You’re here. You are real.” 

The room is small. The distance you share is… close. Just enough that you catch the scent of peppermint toothpaste and coconut shampoo; Just enough that you can slide the documents out of his hands.

His fingers brush against yours. 

He wonders if you’d felt the kinetic trill of energy run through him at the contact.

“Can I be honest, Remy?”

You look up at him. 

“Mais oui, chèr. Y’can always be honest wit’ Gambit.”

You wave your hand at the TVA files. “I’m scared as shit being in a new Universe,” you blurt, truthfully. “This second chance means… a new life. New path. New everything. I don’t know what that’s like either and frankly, I am not prepared for this at all.”

You pause for a breath. “But for what it’s worth? I’m glad that you’re here. That’s… That’s about the only thing that I know.”

Then, as if dwarfed by the sheer vulnerability in your words, you take an awkward step back as you shrug. “And if you don’t feel the same, well. You and I, we’ll just have to make do, regardless.”

The sudden retreat is painfully endearing. Has him letting out a bright laugh that warms something nestled deep in your ribs.

“I’m glad I got you too, chèr,” he grins. 

“Yeah?” You flash a smile, having found your way back to the door.

Remy’s eyes fall to your face— tarrying. He follows the flutter of your lashes, the slope of your cheek, the curl of your lips. 

“…Yeah.”

Your idling, fond gaze sears him like a low-grade fever. 

The thrum buzzes in hands, again.

Your Gambit really was blind, he thinks, just as you slip away and disappear around the corner.

His palm flexes open, and shut.

[petew21-blog]

Revenge possession, part 2

"So what is this game called again?" I asked out loud with Devon's voice.

Devon in the back of our mind:"Dead by daylight. You play either as a survivor or the killer. Depending on the role you have to escape or kill all the survivors."

I chuckled a bit:"You don't see how that's ironic?"

Devon was silent. "I'm so sorry, man. Jesus, I didn't think this through. Haha. Well... you should be good in this game right?"

Me:"Not really. I kinda didn't even know I was being hunted. Your parents just picked me up and then tortured me in the woods. I didn't have much of a chance to even run."

Devon:"Oh... I'm so sorry for that, man. My parents are horrible people."

Me:"Yeah. And I know they killed much more people than just me. That's why it needs to stop"

Devon:"So are you sure that killing them would be the best revenge for all these years of their murder spree?"

Me:"What else can I do? It's not like I had much of a choice. Few days ago I didn't even have a body. Now I co-share yours. Yeah, stealing their sons body is good revenge too, but you're a good person. And I don't want to take over your life."

Devon:"Not what I was aiming for. I honestly love having you here with me. You're like a second voice/brother/best friend inside of me. Oh shit. I just figured. I keep calling you bro. What's your real name?"

Me:"Paul. Took you long to ask, man. Not cool"

Devon:"Sorry, haha. So... Paul. You're like 40 now, right?"

Me:"I would be if your parents didn't kill me. But I died when I was 21 like you are now. So my mind basically stayed 21 I suppose. Except for roaming the country I didn't have much fun through all these years. These past few days as you, just chilling here, playing video games, jerking off and talking to you is the most fun I had over these 20 years."

Devon took control over his body to let go of the controler and to flex his biceps. The sweat hitting his nose.

Me:"What are you doing? I thought we were gonna play?"

Devon:"Nah, just reminding you what body you're in"

Devon:"Look at me man. I have beautiful abs, massive arms. These thighs could crush a melon between them. I appreciate that you picked me and that you like my body, but you gotta do something about this. We gotta go have fun. With another living being."

Me:"Devon... I really am happy how you treat me in your body, but... I don't think we have the same type of dating pool"

Devon:"I don't care whoever you fuck. I'm straight, or atleast I think I am, but very accepting. And if my man inside of me wants to fuck some handsome man, I will be more than happy to help you out. Bros gotta help each other"

Me:"But it's gonna be your body, man."

Devon:"So? You could do much worse with my body and you didn't. Getting fucked or fucking someone in the ass is not so bad."

Me:"Ok? So what place do you suggest?"

Devon:"Gym. We can show everyone what this body can do. Lot of people observe me there, so you can pick whoever you desire"

We arrived to the gym. So many hot and sexy people in sight. Devon took control to do his normal routine. It sucks that I could also have a body like this, but back in the day I wanted to see the world. I wanted to be myself in a world that hates my kind. Twenty years later, the world is so much more accepting. It's not ideal, but wow. How things gave changed

I still can't believe that Devon let's me stay in his body. I mean, look at him. He could be anything, have anyone. And yet this hot piece of meat is depressed with his easy life, being alone most of the time. I guess that's what happens when your serial killer parents move your family every now and then. You don't have any friends and those that you did might already be dead by their hand. How horrible... I honestly can't wait to see them. To look them in their face. With their son's face and to kill them. I hope Devon will forgive me. I know he says he wants to stop them, but it's his parents. I just have to make sure that he will not stop me when the time comes

Devon was just finishing up, when a cute twink approached us.

The guy:"Hey, I hope you don't mind that I was watching you"

Devon:"Nah, it's ok man. You need a hand with lifting?"

The guy smiled. "Oh I do need a hand, I just don't know If I asked the right person"

Devon sat down, looking all confused:"That depends if..."

I stopped Devon mid sentence. "I think that's a cue for me to take over, ok?"

Devon now in the back of my mind:"Sorry man, I usually don't respond to guys hitting on me. Go on. Have fun"

I smiled at the guy and casually finished the sentence

We headed to the showers. The owners must be probably sick with all these guys hooking up here. But we didn't care. We made out passionately. The twins was all over my muscles, as I would be in his place too. He was a bit smaller. That gave me a sense of dominating him.

I stopped and smiled at the guy. "I... just gotta let you know that I am a virgin"

Devon:"What!!! Dude, you never had sex with anyone?"

The guy looked at me from top to bottom. "You? If good looking people like you are virgins, then I have no idea how world works."

I chuckled nervously. It was true. I was 21 when I died, but back then it was much harder to date a find gay guy. Now you can just download Grindr and in a few minutes you got yourself a guy in your bedroom

Twink:"Well in that case we can go to your place and have some fun there. This isn't a very nice place to have your first time, don't you think"

I just smiled and nodded in approval

We were now in Devon's messy room. The guy was really shocked to see such a straight man cave, but didn't say a word. We made out. He took off my shirt soaked in sweat from gym. His lips now kissed my neck and went to over my pecs, down the middle to my waist band. He took my hard dick into his hand, squeezed hard and looked me deep into my eyes. His look was so full of lust, yet I could tell it was superficial. This guy isn't looking for romance. He just wants to be fucked hard. So let's give it to him

I took a bit of control of the moment. I grabbed him by the neck. Turned him around and pressed him against the wall. He was now moaning in pleasure as I was rubbing my hard dick hidden beneath the layers of my clothes against his ass. I was still holding him, choking him.

I pulled of my shorts and his just low enough to get my dick in there. I wanted to push it right in there. As hard as I could

Devon suddenly screamed out from the back of his mind:"Condom dude!!!"

I left the guy, moanjng against the wall, reaching out to the condom on the shelf. I was struggling to find which side to pick to put it on my dick

Twink:"Wait. Let me" it was obvious he jas done it a few times. The condor was on in a matters of seconds. "Do you have any lube?"

Devon intervened again:"Top drawer. Give him more attention, man. You're making it all about yourself"

"Shut up" I said out loud as a response to Devon, but the guy looked confused. "Oh sorry, not you. I'm just nervous. I have lube right here."

The guy went on Devon's bed on his back. His clothes were now gone and his ass was welcoming my dick. His legs wide open.

I pressed lightly my dick with a ridiculous ammount of lube on top.

It went smoothly so I tried to went all the way. This seemed to hurt the twins. "Hold your horses. I'm good, but not that good. A bit slower, cowboy."

I went in slowly. The pleasure got to Devon too. The way this guys ass was tight around the head of our dick was sending our minds to heaven.

I picked up the pace. The twink was moaning in pleasure and in pain at the same time. I grabbed him by the next to choke him. My other arm pressing his thigh.

Twink:"Harder!" I thought I was going as hard as possible, but I didn't think he could take it much more

Twink:"Harder!!!"

Devon:"Oh, jesus. Let me do it" Devon took over. I was in the back of our mind again. Still feeling everything.

Devon was like a beast, but the twink was really enjoying it.

I could feel all the cum building up. Ooh there's gonna be tons of cum.

Devon was biting his lower líp and furiously pounding this guy's ass. Sure, "Straight" my ass.

Devon:"I'm cumming!!!"

Twink:"Fill me! I want it all"

Devon shot out the stream of cum into the condom. The wave of pleasure was so overwhelming. So much, that I lost control for a moment. I didn't know what was happening.

I opened my eyes. Still as Devon. Good. But I was back in control. But I was alone here. I couldn't feel Devon

"DEVON?!?"

Twink:"Right here. You pushed my soul out of my body, dude. If the guy here wasn't as welcoming you would have me erased or something"

Me:"I'm so sorry. I didn't think that would happen."

Devon:"It's fine. This guy's soul is asleep or maybe gone? I don't know. But I can't hear him now. Dude! I could feel my body's orgasm and his orgasm at the same time. I can assure you, that this is definitely the best I'll ever feel. So overwhelming."

Me:"Shit, dude. We gotta figure out how to get you put of there. Or you might be stuck"

Devon:"What if we wait for a bit? I kinda wanna try having sex with my body."

Me:"Kinky. You wanna get pounded too?"

Devon:"Guess I'm not so straight anymore, right?"

After our first fucking session, Devon passed out from all the sex. We still didn't know where this guy's soul was, but we would figure that out soon. I was just happy that I was finally alive. And I even have a boyfriend now? If that's what I can call Devon. Not to put labels on our relationship or anything

I grabbed the first pair of shorts from the floor I could find. Still sweaty from the sex, I headed to the kitchen to get myself a drink of water.

I was interrupted by a dark figure in the corner of the room

"Hello, son"

I was full of rage. But I can't fuck it up now. If I kill him, I won't know where his mom is and that would take me another decade to find her.

"Hey, dad. How was your holiday"

"Oh wonderful. Rome is your mother's favourite place to visit"

I tried to act as much as possible. Devon was in his room in a wrong body, so that wouldn't help me.

"Did you go to Colosseum this time?"

"Oh, we sure did." The father responded. But in the matter of seconds his expression changed. He was now holding a gun pointed at me

"What are you doing, dad?!"

"Devon knows we went to Bahamas"

Fuck. So he knew all along that I'm not Devon. But how?

"Me and my wife found out that the folk like you, who want to have your revenge for what we did, come back as ghosts to make our lives a living hell."

"So I'm not the first one?"

"Hahaha. Of course you're not. The first one came when Devon was 2 years old. Of course he doesn't remember, but that was a nasty one. All the paranormal stuff. We didn't know what we were dealing with back then. But now, oh we are used to deal with you. But possessing Devon is a first. Some possessed us and tried to kill us, but obviously failed."

"How can you tell that I'm not him? Besides the question."

"Oh it's an aura thing. Once you have the experience and a good guidance, you can just tell when a soul isn't in their rightful place."

"Now, tell me. Did Devon put up a lot of fight? Your answer will change the course of your torture."

"Devon is ok. He's in the body of the guy downstairs. It was an accident"

"Sure it was. That would make sure that we couldn't kill you or him, right? We're not so stupid, mister. Although I will not enjoy killing my son, there is no other choice."

"If you kill me, I will go after you even more. I have for the past 20 years and I will even after you die. My soul will not rest until you burn in hell"

"Sure you can do that, but it will take you some time to get out of this thing."

He was holding a wooden object with symbols

"What is that thing?"

"That mister, is your prison. It will bind you inside, until it breaks, or someone opens it on purpose. Which happens rarely if you ask me."

"You're doing a big mistake. Devon is in his room in a different body. Let him atleast get his body back."

"I can't take that chance. Me and my wife have a life to live up to and we won't stop just because our son got himself in some trouble and can't handle it."

"It's your son! You would kill him just so you can continue your killing spree?"

"Oh, definitely. Having a child is a great thing, but taking a life. That's something you won't ever forget about. The control it gives you."

"You're sick. No parent would ever do this to their child"

From the hallway a second voice spoke:"Oh these two are a chatty couple, right honey? So chatty chatty. But we need to hurry up, so get on with this" the mother said towards her husband

I could feel a horrible pain in my chest. Feelings very similar to the ones I felt 20 years ago. This couple was killing me again

"Sorry Devon. We couldn't have done anything" father said

"Devon hates you too!" I screamed out

"You're talking too much" and then nothing.

I don't know for how long this continued. I don't even know what they did with Devon's beautiful body. How they got rid of it.

Soon I started to feel walls around me. Walls? As a ghost I wouldn't be able to. Except if this is their prison that they were talking about.

I opened my eyes. There was only darkness. Nothing else. I looked around and on the other side of my prison was someone sitting, crying.

I got up to approach this person. He looked up

It was Devon. He was crying

"Paul! They killed me. My own mother slit my throat. I told her it's me. But she just killed me and trapped me into thus thing."

"I'm so so sorry, Devon. I never wanted any of this. I wanted revenge for them. But they were ready. They knew. Your father didn't listen to me too. He didn't care. I told him about your soul. But they are more sadistic then I thought"

"Paul, I'm dead. My parents killed me. My OWN PARENTS!"

"Devon, they are horrible people. And we will get our lives back. Maybe not our old lives, but we will. But first we have to get out of here. We're gonna get through this together. Ok?"

Devon collapsed into my arms. I was just glad that I could hold someone even if I was a ghost now. We were gonna get out of here, but I had no idea how

Outside of the ghost trap, the world went by.

Devon's father held the trap tightly as he watched his old house burn. His wife held her head on his shoulder.

"Ahhh, I think I might miss Devon. He gave our life some order"

"He limited us. We couldn't ve ourselves all the time. Now we can. What do you say we go pick up some hitchhiker?"

"Ohhhh, that's a lovely idea. Get rid of that box, it gives me the creeps"

And as the two of them were laughing while leaving, the box was sinking deeply into the river below the bridge until some human would find it.

If Paul and Devon would know what was happening to then right now, they would be devastated.

[suiana]

your boyfriend has been acting weird lately (various yandere characters x gn reader) (ANGSTOBER DAY 2)

"babe are you-"

"can you quit talking? seriously, you're so damn annoying."

"...i only wanted to ask whether you were hungry..."

you stare at your boyfriend, lips pursed as he continues to type away on his phone. he's been like this for three weeks now. getting mad at you for no reason, cursing at you... did you do something wrong?

all you ever wanted was to be a good significant other and he's acting like he's on his period or something! jesus, can't he be a little bit more mature too?! picking fights with you for no reason, making a big fuss over nothing... and not even telling you why?!

...

you know what?

you had it with him.

"hey, what's your problem huh?! why are you so edgy nowadays huh? did i do something wrong?!"

your once loving boyfriend stares at you, eyes and mouth wide at your sudden outburst. he takes a moment to compose himself, eyebrows furrowing the second he thinks things through.

"god you're so damn stupid. I've been repeatedly telling you, haven't i? i hate you. what can't you understand?! this is why I'm always getting mad, damnit!"

you scoff at him, arms folded in front of your chest as you try to keep your cool... only for your anger to get the better of you, resulting in a screaming festival between you and your boyfriend.

"hate me? you can't expect me to believe that. not when you were literally obsessed with me up till three weeks ago?!"

"i-"

"you used to threaten people just for looking at me! you even tried to kill someone because they asked for my number! and now you want me to believe that you hate me? stop with your bullshit."

".. actually-"

"oh. are you seeing someone else? is that what this is? you're trying to make me break up with you, is that it?"

"n-... you know what? yeah, yeah it is. i want to break up with you. I've found someone else that i love more than you."

your boyfriend states, eyes dead as he stares straight at you. he breathes calmly, as if he weren't affected by this at all. meanwhile, your heart felt as though it had shattered into many tiny pieces. tears fell from your eyes, unable to be held back any longer as you broke down, falling to your knees as the male just stares at you stoicly.

"let's never see each other again."

he mumbles, turning on his heel, swiftly leaving you alone to wallow in your sadness in the once lively apartment. shit... you hadn't expected things to end like this.

"he's a fucking jerk..."

you think through your tears, vision blurry as you clutch your chest. you really loved him and he just?? left?? how could he be so heartless?

if he didn't love you he could've just said something about it. he didn't have to be so mean and hurt your feelings before finally bringing up another person! god damnit, why did you have to fall for such a person?!

you cried, wailing as you cursed your now ex-boyfriend.

"fuck! i hate you! i hate you so much! i hope i never see you again! just disappear from my life! you just left me to die here! stupid ex-boyfriend! i hate giving you my love!"

what you didn't know however, was that your 'heartless' boyfriend had stood outside your door, frowning at your every word, regretting everything he had done up until that moment. because he had loved you too. truly.

he loved you so damn much that he wanted to tear out his hair every single time he was mean to you. he wanted to tell you that he didn't mean any single one of those hurtful words. he wanted to cry and beg for your forgiveness every single time he did anything hurtful to you.

but it was for your own good. it was to keep you safe. and if he needed to hurt you to keep you safe, he'd do it. because he loved you too much to see someone else hurt you.

and being with him meant that there was always a risk of you getting hurt. so how could he allow that to happen when it could be prevented? how could he let his selfish feelings get in the way when you were such a precious little thing? sure, he loves you and he'll do anything in his power to ensure your safety but what if he can't protect you one day?

what if one day you just... get used against him? he's a dangerous man and has a lot of enemies. surely they'll find out that you're his weakness. of course he has gotten rid of anyone who might harm you now but who's to say that there won't be more in the future?

which is why he has to severe all ties with you now. he can't risk it. because he may be strong, but he may not be strong enough for whoever may come in the future. that's why he's been doing what he's been doing-making you hate him so that it hurts less when he decides that it's time to leave. he assumes that it's working wonderfully, after all you've never once noticed his puffy eyes in the morning.

"at least... they'll be safe now."

and disappear he will, for he has too many regrets welling up in the depths of his soul from what he did to you. he'll make sure to never come across you again, instead lurking in your shadow, observing you from afar.

a star like you need not be dirtied by his presence anymore.

dazai osamu, akutagawa ryunosuke, megumi fushiguro, blade, scaramouche/wanderer, your faves<3

[tvgals]

i accidentally posted it so i had to delete it 😪

ALSO THANK UOU BAE 💞💞

‘ LET THE LIGHT IN. ‘

even though bully! connie had undeniable feelings for you, he hadn’t told anyone besides you yet. how big of a mistake was that?

you were smiling at yourself while getting ready for you and connie’s second date. you were officially his girlfriend, no one else knew but you two. connie said he’d never keep you two a secret! the lies he told.

your phone started to ring, the name ‘con 💞’ popping up. you grinned and answered the facetime. he was in the car with someone, a boy it sounded like. you were 50% sure it was his friend eren, but you weren’t sure.

“hi baby!” you grinned, waving at him.

connie’s eyes go wide, he immediately turns down the volume and keeps on driving, not saying a word. this was weird. usually he’d be so excited to be on the phone with you, so enthusiastic to talk to you, why was he so different now?

“who that?” you hear the boy in the passenger seat talk, now you were sure it was eren. “it ain’t nobody.” connie responds. eren laughed to himself. “i know that ain’t y/n.” you perk up at the sound of your name, you purse your lips and listen further. connie gave eren a look to ‘shut the fuck up’ but he kept on going. “bro, just tell her about the prank. i’ve seen her following you around, shit’s getting embarrassing.” eren starts to laugh harder.

“you haven’t told her yet? dude, you’re gonna crush her.” eren reprimanded connie through laughs. good thing this was his house. “okay okay, i’ll see you tomorrow?” eren asks, sticking his hand out so connie can dap him up, but connie just huffed and told eren to get out.

once the coast was clear, you sniffled. “what prank, connie?” connie’s heart breaks at the sound of your weak voice. he turns his phone back up and sighs. “nothing, baby.” connie sighed. “it is something. i’m not stupid!” you say into the phone. you’d gotten all pretty for no reason. for someone who asked you out as a joke. “no, it’s not. eren is just a dumbass. don’t listen to him.” connie tries to shrug off the situation.

“fuck you connie. i thought you’d actually change for me. i’m breaking up with you. don’t text me, don’t call me, don’t come over. we’re done.” you cry into the phone. you hang up and block connie, throwing your phone onto your bed. connie fucked up. something in his head told him to tell everyone else before shit got fucked up, but he never did. and it came back to bite him in the ass.

“jesus..” connie mumbled to himself, rubbing his face. he never knew this would blow up in his face. he thought it would just be harmless and no one would get hurt. he looked at the time, 5:45 and he headed off to walmart. he had to make it up to you. he pulled into the walmart parking lot, shoving his phone into his pocket. he walks inside and goes directly to the floral section, grabbing you a plethora of pink and purple and orange flowers. he smiles at the sight of your face in his mind. he hopes you can forgive him. connie then relocates to the card section, where he grabbed you a plain pink glittery card, where he plans to write a message to you. he then grabs you a few plushies and a pink gift bag.

he checks out and heads to his car, holding his breath on the drive to your house. he can’t even listen to music. he’s scared he’ll find a song that’ll remind him of you. he parked his car across from your house. he turns his car off and takes a deep breath, grabbing his gifts and walking to your door. connie is glad he knows his way around your family. your dad takes the morning shift, so he’s dead asleep while your mom takes third shift, so she’s at work. he lightly knocks on the door a few times. “please, y/n…” he whispers to himself. he gets a bit excited when he hears the pitter patter of your feet. he’s sure you have those cute pink socks with the bow on the top. you open the big door, sighing at the sight of connie.

“i told you don’t come over…” your voice is hoarse, sounding as if you’ve been crying ever since you’d hung the phone up. “i couldn’t just let you leave me without an explanation, baby.” connie says. “i gotchu some stuff…can we just talk?” he asks. you look down at his hands to see flowers and that cute little pink gift bag. “okay.” you say. you unlock the screen door and connie walks in, closing both doors before taking his shoes off. he follows behind you to your room. he intakes the familiar smell of winter candy apple immediately. connie hands you your gifts, which you handle with care when you place it on your nightstand.

“talk, connie.” you mumble, fiddling around with your fingers. “look, it was…” connie struggles to get the words out. “it was a prank.” connie admits, his head hanging low. you hold your breath, trying not to cry. “so what the fuck did you come over here for? just to play in my face?” you ask, almost crying. “no, no. you ain’t let me get to the point mama.” connie said, pulling you close. you tried to resist, but your mind wouldn’t let you.

“it started off as a prank. but when i started gettin’ to know you and seeing how you are, i fell in love. im sorry i didn’t tell anyone, baby…” connie apologized, rubbing circles along your hips. you gave yourself a second to register what he said to you. is he telling the truth? or was he just trying to string you along? “okay…” you mumble. “so you forgive me?” connie asks, hope in his voice. you sigh. “how are you gonna make it up to me? y’know i can’t forgive you this easy.” you grin, looking up at him. “i gotchu, mama.” connie says. he gently pushed you down on the bed. shimmying you out your pajama pants.

“you’re so pretty f’me…” he whispers, pulling your print panties to the side and gently kissing your cunt. “please connie, don’t tease.” you whine, arching your back. connie knew this was his last chance to make it up to you, so he did what he had to please you. he delve into your cunt, slurping and pressing sloppy kisses to it. connie almost lived in your cunt, always eating you out when you were stressed about finals, maybe even if you were just minding your business. “shit, connie!” you groan, arching your back and pushing his head further.

“mhmm…” connie hummed into your pretty pussy. “jesus, con!” you whined, your legs tightening around connie’s head. connie pulled away for a brief second. “open ‘em up, mama.” connie instructed you, pushing your legs apart before continuing to eat you out. “i’m gonna cum!” you moaned, trying to be quiet to not wake up your dad. “mhm, cum f’me…” he mumbles as you came on his face. connie couldn’t be more handsome than what he was now. his eyes low and filled with lust. “gonna let me fuck you now?” connie asked, pulling his dick out his nike sweatpants. “mhm…” you hum, pulling connie close to you. he chuckles at the action, pushing his dick inside your wet cunt.

“i’m so sorry, baby…” connie whimpers, thrusting into your cunt. “it’s okay…it’s okay…i k-know you didn’t mean it.” you forgive connie, holding his veiny hands. “please please, i didn’t mean f-for this to happen…i love you y/n.” connie moaned into your ear, his pace getting gradually faster. “don’t just throw that word around!” you reprimanded him, clawing at his back. “m not…i mean it…” connie whispers, almost too quiet to hear. “p-promise?” you sigh out, arching your back. “pinky promise.” connie smiled.

“‘m gonna cum…gonna cum so hard…” connie warned you. moaning like there’s nothing else in the world but you. “where d’you want it?” connie asks, looking up at you. “inside…” you gripe, curling your toes. with a few more strokes and moans, connie shoots his cum inside of you, biting your shoulder to keep quiet. after a few minutes of silence, you suck up the courage to ask connie a question.

“you really love me?” you ask, looking into his big olive eyes. “of course i do…” connie grinned, pressing kisses to your face. “so you forgive me?” connie asks, holding your hand. “yes. but you have to tell people we’re dating.”

“deal.”

TAGLIST :

@looking4chanel @draculara-vonvamp @Therealcees-blog @laylasbunbunny @lovelytayy @d7n3 @deadgirlkisses @darkknightpeanutbagel @luvv-des @blackgirlontheblock @cherrycrys @thecoloredpages @xricly @jazzyluuv @peter-parkers-gf @chinaza444 @dynoduck @princesslilisworld @what-am1rah @baboon-milk333 @marcelineormars @mxspiderman2099 @ts1mp0ne @23victoria @ravereina @stevenknightmarc @laaailuh @diorsbrando @madz-rulez @spiderheartzz @chinieh @asensitivecookie @tourbug @anikaluv @mainvamp @strawberryshortcake143 @spectr3inl0ve @anitatvd @vitlicious @yuckyygutz @liyahontop @janaeby @milesmoralesesposa @lily-pythonz @s1xtr @naijagrl @ninaaaazzzz @sucuretcannelle @captaincyberqueen @sylisan @cafehyunji @gtsflawless @v1rtu4lsworld @anotherblackreader @petitecolibri @bakuhoe37 @anubisisthebomb @sillygoofymoodx @sinnerzstuff @viisgrave @silkcatsz @bratzdolly4 @motheroffae @dollypipp @princessru1 @s1rennsworld

[teojira]

Really enjoyed your headcanons on Caeser and Proximus, do you mind doing the same with Noa?? 😊🙏

[Noa and day to day life with him!] [Headcanons!]

Summary: Noa takes you back with him to his home, and the clan accepts you as one of them. Even if you're concerned otherwise.

Word count: 1k (Jesus christ)

Warnings: None that I can think of! Can be read as Platonic or Romantic! You and Noa are attached to one another. (Yes, this is me projecting.)

A/N: Noa is so near and dear to me, I literally did not mean for this to be so long, and I STILL cut myself off. This is 1k words worth of headcanons for him, and it is not enough. I'm Noa's #1 fan, I am sorry to all my friends and family who have to hear me talk about him constantly.. Ask me for Noa anything, and I will give you the world.

Do me a favor and strap the fuck in for this it's alot.

I am so glad someone asked about Noa bc I got ALOT to say.

Noa has had it with humans, Mae put him, his clan, and countless others at risk, he should not trust humans, really he shouldn't, but he can't help it. She also betrayed you in the process, and now you're alone.

You agreed to help him and Mae against Proximus, you're the only one who actively goes up against Proximus as well.

Swinging and trying your best to try and get Proximus off of Noa, yelling and crying while the other apes just stare in fear. (Later on they apologize, but you don't hold it against them.)

It's a huge risk to invite a human with them again, but then he remembers Rakas words, Caesars words, and decides he can't told another's decisions over you.

So when he gently grabs your hand in his, looking down at you with a strained smile, blood seeping from his lips, you follow, back to his clans land.

Now on to the good stuff, it's kinda awkward finding your place among the eagle clan, the elders are gone, his father Koro is gone, there really is no guidance as to where to place you.

You drift mostly, either helping Dar or helping with the young ones, teaching them how to read and write, helping fish, farm, the basic tasks.

Dar loves you by the way, doting on you and making sure no one messes with you in a harmful way. She teaches you their customs and traditions, all the while playfully teasing you about Noa. She's a mom, she knows.

You're happy with your work, happy with your place among the clan. It's genuinely shocking how much they were willing to forgive and to not hold any grudges against humans after one ruined everything.

It helps that Noa takes accountability for you, somehow so trusting that you will not cause harm. His faith in you speaks volumes and you remind him everyday that it won't go to waste.

All he does is send you a sweet smile and ruffles your hair.

You find yourself helping Noa alot with crafting new tools and contraptions, being a second pair of eyes that can catch onto things he can't.

"Very smart." "Thank yo-" "For an Echo." and he does that stupid cute little sniff afterwards and it makes it tremendously hard to hit him.

He's such a little shit I fucking hate him.

You're his shadow when his duties permit, he's taken on a higher role of the clan, sometimes going out for days at a time but you're always at the edge of the Village waiting for his return, anxiously working your bottom lip until you see him in view.

You're both extremely attached to one another, Soona and Anaya become attached to you too, dragging you along in everyone's free time to go climbing, to eat, to hunt, just about any group outing has you as their fourth member.

Noa was worried about them accepting you, but they love you just as much as he does.

It makes his heart swell when he sees you and Soona together, giggling about something surely only you both understand while Anaya groans and complains about being left out.

It's like you've always been meant to be with them, to round out their group.

Soona and Anaya will offer to be the one to carry you this time, they do want to, genuinely, but Noa won't let them 99.9% of the time, He's used to your weight, he trusts that he can keep you safe the best. (Says the ape that literally almost died multiple times doing stupid shit)

"Noa worries too much, they will be fine." "Anaya is clumsy. Can't trust you to carry yourself, much less echo."

He tries not to carry you everywhere, but it is so much more convenient than waiting for you, so he scoops you up often enough that the stares don't bother you anymore.

Remember how in the movie, all the apes sleep together communally? Well you're at first extremely nervous about that, not wanting to ask what exactly are your accommodations because surely they don't want you there with them.

Actually, Noa does, so jot that down.

When you shyly move away, he raises his palm up at you, nodding to the space besides him.

When you don't move, he gently tugs you down, laying on his back and shutting his eyes. The clan hasn't really fully rebuilt and started to gather things needed for shawls and coverings, so it's not strange to him that you cuddle up to him to steal his warmth, peeking an eye open to see your face squished into his side, knocked out.

He wraps an arm around you, incasing you in more warmth.

This is a nightly routine until you finally take it upon yourself to throw yourself on him, he chokes out a breath as you make yourself comfortable.

Soona and Anaya usually join in, he cannot fucking breathe but he's so happy that it outweighs it.

When Mae inevitably shows back up, she sees you out in the distance, you look so genuine happy, so at peace with where you are. You even have some eagle feathers in your hair, integrated into their life that it shocks her.

It's enough to make her put the gun away, grasping at Rakas necklace like a lifeline, sucking in a deep breath to stop her from crying.

Maybe apes and humans can live at peace with one another after all. She hopes you prove her wrong.

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏᴏɴ!

[heavenbarnes]

Oh my god. I just read your older!bf Simon returning from deployment and I LOVED it! It was so PERFECT.

Can you maybe do a part where he does decide to retire from the TF141 and decides to settle down? Stay home with reader and enjoy a normal life, without them having to worry that Simon might not return. I adore your writing style!

course i can 🫶🏼 got a headache, need something soft lol

when your older bf!simon finally makes the call, has the come-to-jesus with price- it doesn’t come easy.

they have to have a sit down, one where simon finally admits that he just can’t do it anymore. not with you around, not when he’s finally got something to lose.

it’s the nightmares that kick things off, that recurring one where he’s like an omniscient being looking down on you and the empty house. the one where you finally get that knock on the door.

it scares the shit out of him.

simon never used to think- let alone dream about his own mortality. that was until you.

he thought it’d be tough, that price would tell him how much the team needed him- how much king and country needed him.

“good choice mate, i’m proud of you”

simon managed to hold back the tears till he got home.

he hadn’t even told you what he’d planned, you’d definitely spoken about it but usually over dinner or when he was all soft and pliable post-sex.

the times where he could really see himself being normal with you. being safe.

you’d known the minute he walked in the door that something had changed. he wasn’t carrying an unbearable weight on his shoulders, for one.

“simon- what’s happened?”

that broke the floodgates.

it was an amalgamation of all that’d been following him since he joined the force. learning to live with eyes in the back of his head. accepting his own fate. becoming a ghost.

that and hearing those words from a man like price.

simon was man enough to admit he was also dog-tired. mid-forties, set of shoulders that you could bounce bullets off they were so tense. his lower back was absolutely fucked these days.

he was so tired.

and here he was, locked in your arms as your ran soothing circles along his spine- softly cooing a gentle “shh” while he cried.

cried like a fucking baby.

anyone else knew about this? he’d turn inside out. but that was before you, that was before he learnt he could show you every ugly little thing about him and find you loving him regardless.

you who loved him whether he was a perfect soldier or a good man.

you who forgave him for everything he’d yet to forgive himself for.

simon had never felt so alive.

stay-at-home-husband looked good on him.

washing basket in hand, cursing at the machine (he’d loaded it so poorly). vacuum trailing behind him, getting caught on literally everything. dishwasher stacked at all odd angles.

you were just happy to have him home.

happy to walk through the door and smell the dinner cooking. happy to hear him in the garage fixing up his car. happy to hear him fixing everything that’d been waiting for him to find time.

happy to have him safe.

simon joined the local rugby club (after you’d made him get a regular physio). he’d laid a pretty wee garden under the kitchen window for your herbs. he could usually be found at your elderly neighbour’s house, carrying her groceries in and staying for a brew.

he’d been allocated a military issue fresh start.

[dearhargrove]

Sink or swim

summary When the tsunami hits you're at the pier, watching in confusion and shock as the huge wave nears. You're swept away with a dozen others but gain back consciousness with a weirdly attractive guy and his.. son?

tags medical inaccuracy (I made everything medical up pls ignore it), blood and injuries, one POV change, cursing

word count 2831

a/n just watched the episodes with the tsunami and oh my god? I’m so in love with Buck, Chris and Eddie. These three are adorable. Also these episodes were just good as hell, wtf? Andddd I hope I didn’t make any of them OOC (out of character) but if I did forgive me yall 🫶🏻 also English isn’t my first language, so… 🥹

masterlist

Maybe you should've guessed what it meant when the sea started retreating and a huge wave built up more by the second. But somehow it seemed so surreal that you didn't. You clung to the thought that it was an optical illusion, after all there was no way a tsunami would hit that one time you're at the pier.

Now moments later you regret not running faster, earlier or simply finding a spot to hide. You're pulled under the surface every few seconds, swallowing mouthfuls of salty seawater that makes your nose burn and eyes blur.

You're choking when you're swept against a hard object, it's sharp edge digging into your waist. “Fuck!” you curse, though it ends in a gurgle when more water sweeps over you.

When you resurface you're facing an object that turns out to be a sunken fire truck. The red is striking against the blue and Grey around you and you could cry at relief when you manage to hoist yourself onto it.

You're exhausted, your side hurts and you're dizzy. Your phone is useless, the water having destroyed the technology. Cursing, you pocket it again and lean back. You're about to relax, aware that it could take hours for emergency services to reach you when you hear high pitched screaming. You look up, just in time to see someone with a yellow sweater being pulled towards you with the current, screaming at the top of their lungs.

“Jesus,” you swear and crawl to the edge of the truck, yelling to get their attention with your arm reached out as far as possible.

You almost faint when the person turns around and a small child looks at you, red glasses full of water and messy brown hair. He's crying, reaching out as he's struggling to stay afloat.

“Hey! I'm here, grab my hand!” You yell and lean over the ledge as far as you could. As soon as you saw that little boy you knew you'd jump after him if he couldn't grab your hand now.

“I got you, sweetheart, come on!”

Your assurance seems to help and he kicks his legs, managing to move closer to where you are. In a split second you grab his hand and pull him over the railing and onto the truck, holding the little boy close to your chest in relief.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, coughing a little as he adjusts his glasses. You try to look as calm and collected as possible, gently smiling at him and beckoning him further away from the railing and rushing water.

“Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” He shakes his head, biting his lip as he looks out at the water again. He must've been with someone else, you guess when he sits up at every piece floating by.

“Are you looking for someone?” You ask gently and he nods. He slowly speaks, hands fidgeting in his lap, “B-Buck. He's a firefighter.”

You stop yourself from cooing at this adorable child and nod, “We're gonna find him, okay? Just stay here and it'll be okay.”

He looks worried but slowly nods. You go back to sitting between him and the railing, looking out for anyone else.

Just as you spot someone, the small boy moves rapidly and pulls your shirt, “Buck! It's Buck!” He stutters loudly.

You whip your head back around to the rushing water and try thinking of a way to save him too. You couldn't just grab his hand, he would probably just pull you off the truck and you wouldn't risk leaving the kid by himself.

“Shit,” You mumble as you look for a way to help the man, the boy desperately crying out for ‘Buck’ behind you.

It seems you don't need to do much when something slams into the truck and seconds later the man pulls himself up and next to you.

And, damn. He was attractive. His dark blonde curls stick to his forehead as his blue eyes fixate on you and then the boy, strong arms holding him up as a smile builds on his lips, “Christopher!”

You move a bit as the two reunite, the boy- Christopher throwing his arms around the man's neck and giggling wildly.

You watch with a smile, the adorable sight momentarily distracting you from the tsunami keeping not just you but these two strangers trapped on top of a fire truck.

He turns around after a minute, keeping Christopher in his lap as he looks at you. He clears his throat and nods, “Thank you for saving him.” You shake your head and wave your hand in dismissal, unsure how to deal with compliments.

“No, really. I was going crazy when I couldn't find him,” his eyes are fixed on your face and you blame the heat creeping up your neck onto the temperature changes from the water and sun, smiling nervously. “It's all good. Your son is a sweetheart.”

He chuckles, “He definitely is. Though he's not my son,” he mentions, poking the boy's side when he mumbles something. You quickly nod, embarrassed. “Sorry, I shouldn't have assumed-” he shakes his head and a relaxed smile sets on his face.

“It's fine, don't worry. Did you have any luck reaching 911?” You shake your head and hold up your broken phone, screen flickering sadly as you do. He sighs and brushes a hand through his hair (you try not to stare at the hot sight because wow, what are the odds of meeting such an attractive man in the middle of a tsunami?).

“We're probably just gonna have to wait. It'll take time to get boats and units here. It probably looks like this everywhere,” he explains and you tilt your head in surprise before remembering that the kid had mentioned he's a firefighter. Meaning he knew the protocols.

“Right. Christopher mentioned you're a firefighter.” You smile when the boy perks up, a seemingly never faltering smile on his face. “Guess I'm lucky to be stuck with you. Safest I could be.” You shrug, a bashful smile on your face.

“Buck will s-save us all,” Christopher proclaims proudly and you coo at the cute boy. The man now seems a bit uneasy and sighs before his eyes widen, “Shit, right, I'm Evan. Everyone just calls me Buck, though.” You shake his outstretched hand and introduce yourself in turn, biting your lip as a nervous habit.

“So you're a firefighter?” You prompt curiously.

“It's a bit complicated right now…” He sighs, a frown setting on his forehead. You're about to apologize for overstepping when Christopher speaks up again, “He threw up blood.”

Your eyes widen and Evan- Buck pinches the boys’ side in reprimand. “Blood clots,” he elaborates as he looks at your slightly shocked expression. You hum sympathetically before realizing something. “Wait. You were the one trapped under that fire truck? On the news?”

He chuckles (which makes him even more attractive, what the actual fuck?) and nods, “Yep, that's me.”

You grimace in sympathy at the memory and automatically glance at his leg, “Is it all healed? You don't have to talk about it, it's fine if you don't-” he waves you off assuringly, looking relaxed.

“It's fine, don't worry. Yeah it healed fine, had some physical therapy and stuff but now I have blood clots kicking my a- butt.” He stops himself from cursing with Christopher on his lap and you almost smile at the adorable expression of confusion on the kid's face, when Buck presses his hands over both of his ears and whispers what he was originally going to say.

You laugh at the two and a relaxed and almost light atmosphere surrounds the three of you, momentarily disregarding your situation.

“It's kind of ironic isn't it?” He starts and you tilt your head in question. “You saved me, a firefighter, by pulling me onto a fire truck,” he elaborates and you can't help but chuckle, “Right. It should've been the other way around,” you sarcastically add and he holds up his hands in mock surrender.

You relax back against the railing, your eyes drawn to Buck again just to notice him already looking at you. You cock your head questioningly and he bites his lip before grinning, “Sorry, you're just- like, really beautiful.”

Your jaw drops momentarily before you compose yourself and hide behind your hands, “Stop! Geez,” you laugh and he does as well. You exaggerate a shake of your head as you look at Christopher who giggles happily and exclaims, “He likes you!”

Now both you and Buck fluster as he continues, “He's always angry but n-now he's happy.” You notice the small struggle of getting his words out but you couldn't care less, you'd wait hours for this sweetheart to finish a sentence if you had to.

“Oh, really?” You ask in mock surprise and he eagerly nods before Buck intervenes, “Woah, Woah. I'm not always angry. Just.. grumpy.” Christopher makes it a point to look at him and then at you, rolling his eyes and shaking his head which makes it hard to refrain from laughing.

When Christopher busies himself with leaves floating around them Buck lowers his voice a bit as he speaks to you again, “Don't get the wrong impression it’s just, it’s hard. Not being able to work, saving people and all that.”

You nod quickly, “No worries. I’d go insane if I was in your place. I’m guessing they’re keeping you from really doing anything ‘dangerous’?” You ask, careful in case of him wanting to change the subject.

He nods and drops his head back against a siren light, “It is. They’re trying to put me behind a desk! I mean, I’m supposed to be out here, saving lives, fighting fires. That’s my purpose.” He frowns and you hum to show that you’re listening.

“I know they just want me to recover, but…”

“It feels like they’re holding you back?” You finish for him. He chuckles in surprise at the accuracy of what you said and nods.

“I’m probably in no place to tell you this, but trust me, it’s worth it. Get better, do the light work and sooner than you think you’ll be back doing what you love. But if you start now and ignore your health.. it’s going to catch up with you. And it’ll be way worse than a few weeks behind a desk.”

He looks thoughtful for a moment before slowly nodding, “You're right. Thank you.” You smile and put a hand on his leg, making sure he doesn’t mind before adding, “I mean look at you, crushed by an entire ladder truck and you’re up and running already.”

“I’m just that great,” he sarcastically pats his own shoulder and you both break into laughter.

-

You don't know if it's been minutes, seconds or hours when you wake up, laying on top of destroyed concession stands and other things. Something is digging into your back, your leg is awkwardly bent and your ears are ringing.

Groaning you sit up, wincing in pain when a sharp pain strikes through your back at the movement.

Around you is just more trash and destroyed cars, you see an arm laying on one of the cars and decide to avert your eyes as quick as possible for your own sake.

Every step hurts but you keep going; walking through the flooded streets with your eyes looking for either of the two boys you’d spent earlier with or other survivors.

The sun is starting to set and you’re starting to get hopeless. You have no clue where you were, completely disoriented as you pass houses that look entirely the same. Your phone is useless and you’re alone. Shouldn’t you have met at least one person by now?

Your back has gone practically numb, same as your leg, when you see faraway lights in the distance. Your steps get quicker as you see people and to your utter relief firefighters. You don’t know if the tears in your eyes are of joy or utter despair from what happened but you couldn’t care less when a man with short, brown hair spots you and approaches.

You’re trying to walk closer when a small voice somewhere close stops you. You’re not sure if it’s your imagination but you turn around, squinting your eyes in the darkness. And then you see it. A small boy, waddling your way with his arms stretched out like he couldn’t see.

Could it be..?

“Christopher?” You see his head perk up and he tries going faster, stumbling over his own feet. Your heart drops in relief and you gather your last strength to run to him, “Hey, you remember me right?” He nods and you note the missing glasses.

“There’s help, come on,” you point out but he doesn’t look happy. He looks almost angry, “Buck.” You had almost forgotten about the charming firefighter. But your priority right now was Christopher.

“We’re gonna find him. Let’s get you help first,” you say with fake enthusiasm in your voice. He doesn’t look okay with that but stays silent and you awkwardly wrap your arms around him after making sure he’s okay and lift him into your arms.

It’s hard to avoid any obstacles while walking but you manage, seeing the brown haired man from a few minutes ago still there.

“Hey! I need help! It’s a kid!” You yell.

He waves you over while walking towards you and as soon as you can actually see him you’re once again surprised. What was it with these firefighters and their good looks? Jesus.

When he’s close enough you nudge Christopher, “There’s help, he’s gonna make sure you’re okay,” you nod at the man and he stands still before running the last feet over to you, basically ripping the child from you.

“Chris!” He cries, clutching the kid with all his might. Oh, this must be his father.

You smile, relieved that they found each other. He looks up at you with gratitude, “Thank you so much. Thank you.” You just smile.

“He’s found us himself. I couldn’t find him after..” you don’t even know what happened- you just know you passed out and woke up alone. Sighing you rub your temples and shake your head.

“You should get checked out, too. You’re barely walking,” the medic (you guess) advises. You take in the people behind him, the full cots and stressed professionals. “I’m okay. There’s people that need more help,” you nod.

He frowns and shakes his head, “I could tell you at least two injuries of yours that need treatment. Come on.” He nods his head in the direction of one of the tents and you chuckle but follow him. At least you try to. Four more steps and your legs give out, you clutch a random person's arm to prevent your fall, mumbling a sorry when they just barely catch you.

The ringing in your ears is back and you groan when you’re laid on one of the cots, your back protesting painfully.

Your vision is blurry and you can’t understand what’s being said - what the hell was happening to you?

-

“Wait, she’s- she was with me and Chris.” Eddie looks up in confusion as he hooks you up to an IV, checking your pupils with a small torch. “What?”

Buck nods, “Yeah, she saved Chris and then me. When the last wave happened she was swept away- we were all swept away.”

Eddies brows furrow and she looks down at you, your hair a damp mess, clothes dirty and bloody. “She saved Chris?” His best friend nods and crouches down next to you - Eddie notes the pained groan he tries to conceal as he does so - extending a hand and awkwardly patting your shoulder.

“Will she be okay?”

Eddie's answer is interrupted when you open your eyes and wince at the lights surrounding the tent.

“Hey, you feeling okay?” Buck asks before Eddie can get a word out, and you almost faint again seeing these two fine men looking down at you with concern. Great first impression, you think.

“Feel like I was in a tsunami,” you grunt and both of them laugh a bit. A third voice pops up next to you, “We were in one, silly.” Leaning over your head and looking upside down at you was Christopher, a smile on his face.

You huff a laugh and hum, “You’re right. Smart boy.”

Eddie looks at Buck at the exchange and he just shrugs with a grin. Chris walks to Eddie and leans into his side, eyes still on you.

“Is there something on my face, or..?” You ask half joking as three pairs of eyes stay trained on you.

“Just beauty,” Buck grins and there’s a second of silence before Eddie gags and rolls his eyes, “That’s so creepy, díos.” You laugh as Buck tries defending himself, simply looking just as cute to you as earlier.

[sergeantkitty]

Y'all, my man Lucifer just likes himself some duckies.

Anyway, feel free to read through my rant of why I think he likes ducks so much. SPOILERS for S1 Ep8 toward the end.

(Click image for better quality.)

So in case you don't know, there's this famous(ish) Christian story called "The Devil and the Duck". I'm gonna try my best to summarize it here.

This boy gets a slingshot as a present and decides to be a little shit and impulsively uses it to shoot his grandma's pet duck. This kills the duck and the boy feels extreme guilt. His stupid bitchass sister reveals that she saw the whole thing and holds the boy's guilt over his head (remember this phrasing for later) and makes him do her chores and stuff for him, using what he did as blackmail and a guilt-trip.

The boy for a while keeps doing his sister's bidding until he cracks under the guilt and exhaustion from all the chores, and in a break down he apologizes to his grandma, admitting what he did to the duck. The grandma then reveals that she saw what happened from a nearby window, and although she was deeply hurt by what the boy did, she still forgave him immediately. She says that she'll always love the boy since he's her grandson and that seeing his immediate regret was enough for her. She was just waiting for him to admit it, apologize, and stop letting his sister manipulate him.

In the story the boy represents humanity/any person, the sister represents the devil, and the grandma represents God/Jesus. The boy commits a horrific sin and feels immense guilt over it and the sister/devil holds the sin over his head and tries to convince him to do her bidding since the sin was so great that there's no way that grandma/God could forgive him. The lesson of the story's pretty obvious from there: don't let the devil guilt you with your sins into giving up and turning against God since God sees all your sins and faults and still loves you and forgives you anyway, so long as you apologize and repent for your sin against him.

I think Lucifer as we see him in Hazbin Hotel is placing himself both as the devil (obviously) but also the boy in the story. He's clearly interpreted more as a sympathetic, guilt-ridden figure. He surrounds himself with memorabilia of his greatest regret: the downfall of man (hence the apples and snakes.) Now keep in mind that I've highlighted the phrasing of "holding over [one's] head", well that's because that's the specific phrasing used in the story. Now look at Lucifer's hat. It has the snake and apple. Lucifer is LITERALLY holding his greatest sin over his own head and has given up on his dreams and happiness in favor of doing the bidding of his own personal devil: his depression. He's let himself whither away in isolation and gave up on trying to be a proper king for the people he granted free will to since in his mind they're all wretched sinners abusing that gift. All he sees is the bad side of humanity.

I think to him the duck symbolizes the dreamer still inside him, that bit of hope left in him, that hope that even though he's the cause of evil in humanity he'll still one day be forgiven and maybe even be let back into heaven. We see heavenly figures like Sera and Emily feeling clear sympathy for him in S1 Ep6. They don't hate him, they just fear earning the same fate. Even going into S1 Ep8 we see him decide to stop letting his depression rule over him and help Charlie redeem sinners. He's working to, in some way, repent for his greatest sin because, thanks to Charlie, he's seeing the good in humanity again.

Do I have any way of knowing if this is even REMOTELY accurate? ...No... but I like the thought of this being the reason behind Lucifer's duck hyperfixation, and I haven't seen anyone talk about this or bring this possibility up. Anyways, thanks for reading my little rant :3

[acowardinmordor]

You Left Me, You Miss Me - Five

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five

Continuing immediately from part Four. And I hear your screaming, and enjoy it, but I am pretty sure that I'm not going the direction you expect me to.

------

“Huh?”

“I asked them to,” Eddie repeated, quieter.

It didn’t make more sense the second time.  His kids were stubborn. They were obnoxious, and someone asking them to do, or not do something had never once changed anything. Steve spent the last few years asking them not to leave crumbs in his car, and to call before coming over, and to please, just once, let him choose the movie on a movie night. Plus the part where everyone asked them not to put themselves in danger when monsters crawled out of the ground. 

Threats didn’t work on them, law enforcement didn’t work on them, like hell was something as delicate as asking going to do a damn thing. 

“Yeah, no, I heard you, but I don’t get it. So you, what? You sat them down and asked them to ice me out? And they said ‘sure why not!’ Man, even if you asked them to, they’re still the ones that did it. Shit, you’ve never liked me. There’s no way that you didn’t tell the boys to stop hanging out with me last year during your game meetings before everything happened.” Eddie shrank further into the seat, so Steve added, “So, it’s not your fault, but I guess I forgive you if that makes you feel better.”

Eddie gnawed on the inside of his cheek, wincing at what felt like every other word.

“Shit, Steve, it’s -- Shit,” he cursed as he sloshed some of his coffee over the brim. His eyes were clenched shut, and he was curled in on himself. “I didn’t sit them down and tell them to stop talking to you. That -- no way that would work. You’re right. They wouldn’t just -- Like I said, they’re crazy about you. It’s more, it’s all of the, I told them about how ever since -- shit. Look, it doesn’t matter why or how I did it, just trust me, I’m the reason. It’s my fault, and I fucked up, and I didn’t mean it to make -- but you left, and it’s killing them, and so you gotta forgive them, at least talk to them, cause its not their fault.”

“Yeah,” Steve stalled, “still don’t get why you think this is on you, dude.”

“At the beginning it -- shit, no. Doesn’t matter. Jesus Christ, Munson, don’t make this about that. Okay. I asked them not to invite you if I was around, cause I wasn’t -- I didn’t want to see you, and then I made sure they were always around me because -- because I wanted them to. And then I, you know, kept poking at them about it when they’d bring it up, reminding them that you don’t like D&D and that you wouldn’t want to watch the new Star Trek movie, and when they said anything I just kept telling them that -- Shit, just believe me. I’m the one that made them do this, it’s my fault, it’s not them.”

Okay, so Eddie was pushier since Spring Break than he was before it. Or the kids listened to him more. Or they were trying to take care of him. So Eddie was the prompt for them cutting him out of everything. Fine.

Still didn’t make it the guy’s fault. 

Steve got close with Robin after she found out about the Upside Down. But he didn’t get close to Jonathan. Dustin became, for a while at least, his brother. Steve would die for Mike, but they didn’t hang out if it wasn’t a group thing. All of them were tied together, and any one of them could make a call, and everyone would come to help, but that didn’t make them all automatically into friends. 

God, Eddie looked like he was on the edge of a breakdown in a booth in a diner. 

“Look, it’s,” Steve spun his coffee cup, “you’re real close with the guys in your club right? The ones in your band?”

Eddie went tense, then nodded awkwardly.

“You’re close because of that stuff, though. Not just cause you had some classes together or were next to each other on a bus. You got pushed together for some random reason, but  that happened with a lot of people. But you had shared interests, right? You like that game, and you got bullied at school and you like the same loud screaming music. So you got to know each other, and you had a bunch in common, and so you guys are friends. You’re close, so even though you graduated, and you don’t have class and lunch together anymore, you’re still friends.

“Christ, Steve, no,” he protested. 

Steve ignored that and kept going.

“I never had that with the kids, or any of them. Shit. Never had that with Nance either, but I didn’t know it back then.” His inner Robin glared, and he stayed on topic. “It wasn’t as simple as sharing some classes, there were monsters and all that, but that’s what kept me and them around each other. No more monsters now, so.”

His stomach twisted, like it always did if he got too close to thinking about this. 

He only barely managed to talk about this with Robin, because when it was Robin he was honest, and when he was honest, really honest, he ended the night quiet and hurting and picking apart the past year trying to find what he could have done differently. Shoving all of that back into the dark of his mind, he conjured up a casual shrug and a smile. 

“I get that they’re probably freaking out right now, but they’ll get over it. Give it another month or two and it’ll be fine. Start one of your campaign -- your big story things and distract them if they’re bugging you about it.” 

He wiped up the coffee Eddie spilled on instinct, and shoved the napkin in his now empty cup. 

Time to get home and get a nap before he went to the stockroom that night. He wouldn’t see Robin until he picked her up for work, but they were scheduled alone, so he could talk all of this through then. Trying to pretend this day didn’t happen would last all of eight seconds of contact with his best friend. Maybe she could make sense of how he was feeling. 

“Wait, stop, you can’t leave yet.”

“Munson, I’ve been here since before dawn, I wanna leave.”

“I know, and I’m sorry, but you have to talk to them. They miss you.”

“They didn’t six weeks ago, did they? Or for the holidays? Or for the months before that, huh?” Steve finally snapped, then took a breath. “Sorry. Answer’s still no.”

He bussed their cups and the creamer to the pass through and grabbed his coat and gloves. Steam rose off Hopper’s truck where he had the engine running to keep warm. They exchanged a single nod before Steve turned towards the road to walk home. 

“Steve!” 

It wasn’t a shock to hear, but Steve had hoped that Eddie wouldn’t follow. 

“Okay, I get that you’re not going to just forgive them, and that you don’t want to talk to them, but--”

“No. I don’t. And I know you think this is your fault, and I’m telling you it’s not, and I told you, I’m not mad at you about this. We weren’t friends. I’m not mad at you for not wanting me around or whatever. That’s fine. And? They’ll get over it, and everyone can just move on with their lives with the people they actually like.”

Steve’s stupid voice betrayed him, cracking, and he cut off the rest of what he might have said. Anger was the fastest way to shut down weakness, and it was easy for him to sink into it.  

Eddie had his hands in his hair, clutching at it near his temples, looking borderline hysterical. 

“Would you at least listen if they talked?”

“They don’t have my phone number, and if you tell them where I live, I’ll send Mrs Buckley after you. And Hopper.”

“You could call them.”

“No.”

It wasn’t about who placed the call. If he heard them, if they said a fraction of what he wanted to hear, he’d cave, immediately and entirely, and then both the real life Robin, and the mini Robin in his brain would give him hell. 

“Steve come on, something, anything. Letters? If they write letters?”

“I’m not giving them my address, and Hopper already asked about mailing stuff through him instead. No.”

It was cold and he was tired. Just about the only person in the party that he didn’t care had abandoned him was trying to pull Steve back into the vat of slow simmering pain he was still climbing out of. 

“Look, Eddie --”

“I’ll drive them. The letters. You don’t even have to answer, or read them. Let me tell them that I can bring you letters, and I’ll drive them up here. If you do want to answer I’ll wait and then drive whatever it is back. As many times as you want.”

“Come on, man.”

“I won’t even -- I don’t have to know where you live, or your number, anything. I can come here. To the diner. Won’t even come inside, just drop them off and wait. You won’t have to talk to me, or see me. Just, come on. Even if you never forgive them, or answer them, let them have this. Even if you don’t read what they say, let them think they got to apologize.”

The wind shifted, and Steve tucked his chin into his coat to wait it out. 

Eddie was shivering two steps away, gloveless hands shoved under his arms, hair tangling into more of a mess than usual. 

“That’s a stupid idea, Munson,” he said when the gust stopped, “If they know that you know where I am, and you don’t tell them, they’re going to hate you. They’d drive you insane trying to get you to tell them, and they’d be horrible the whole time. They already ditched me for you, so, don’t make them hate you too.”

“They already hate me.” The response was immediate and defeated.

“Dude, they don’t.”

“They do. They figured it out a few weeks ago. That I was the reason. Just cause you don’t get it doesn’t mean they don’t. This is my fault. They already hate me. They won’t even talk to me long enough to yell. They act like I don’t exist.”

“Christ, Munson, is that why you’re up here, freezing your ass off in a parking lot and bitching at me? So you can get them to like you by getting me to talk to them?”

Eddie flinched. Didn’t say anything for a minute as he shivered with wide eyes. Then, without any of the dramatics the guy was known for, “Please, Steve. Even if you throw them out right after. Let them write to you, and let me tell them the truth when I say you got them. I think they can survive if they don’t hear back. They’ll blame me, but that’s fine, they should. The silence is what’s killing them. They need to say how -- they need to believe that you heard how sorry they are.”

It was so fucking cold it was making Steve’s eyes water. That was the only reason for it. The cold front that came in overnight.

“I’m not gonna promise to read them,” he caved.

The tension collapsed out of Eddie, and he slumped forward, hiding his face in his hands. 

“I work here in the mornings Monday through Wednesday every week. You should drop them off then. M’not saying I’ll read them, or write anything back, but if they want to write, fine.” 

Eddie nodded over and over, hiding behind his hands, and whisper-mumbling something that Steve couldn’t catch. He was shaking again. The kind of full body wracking that meant the cold was sinking deep.

“Christ, go get in Hop’s truck before your fingers freeze off or something.” 

Without waiting for a response, or checking that he listened, Steve turned and kept walking. Another gust of wind tore through him, loud enough that he wouldn’t have heard another call of his name. It was a good thing that John messed up the big combo that morning, and Steve had eaten it during the lull after breakfast. He wasn’t going to manage anything else until tomorrow at the earliest. 

That was assuming Robin didn’t kill him on the spot for his stupid, stupid decision. 

Ten steps down the road, and he already regretted it. Even if he didn’t read anything, even if they never sent anything, the choice would sit like a rock in his gut; a new ache, a new bruise, and Steve was dumb enough that he’d keep poking at it. 

---

I'm sad that this is two chapters without Robin. That's some kind of a crime. Can guarantee that Robin has Strong Opinions about this when she talks to Steve that night.

I don't do tag lists or regular updates, and I have no shame about that.

>>>>>Part Six