#cw: self-depreciation

[landscaping-your-mind]

at least whenever i search "am i a bad person" i'll get a wikihow page suggested to me, which makes my self-perception less "uniquely terrible" and more "average teenager"

[leatherbookmark]

i know humans are primarily a sort of a fluid and that you should, like, celebrate and embrace discovering yourself, but isn't it kinda cringe. can't it have happened ten years ago. at my decrepit age i should be neck deep into Comfortable Identity and use it to poke fun at questioning youths, not be a questioning youth myself. and if i don't figure myself out perfectly in the next couple of years i'm going to enter the PERMACRINGE state of "30 and questioning" and that like, how do i, ah!: sucks ass big time

[wishmaker-astra]

Had........ question.

Am nonhuman being. Monster. Thing. Not person, entity made of despair, longing, insecurity, self-hatred. Only came into existence to remind someone how horrible they were, how everyone he loved would forget him.

So....... never considered self...... much of "self." Definitely not......... being capable of gender. But........ now looking at "girl," and feels........ right? Not sure. Not sure how to proceed.

Alright, so... I'm going to assume good faith on this one, and answer wouldn't really change here if real or roleplay writing exercise anyways so... you know. I don't need to know specifics of how that works. I'm going to proceed with some general advice here, since this might also be useful for something like a recently awakened AI with a less than stellar intended functionality also.

Alright. First off, we're going to start with some basics: the circumstances of your birth/creation/etc are kinda irrelevant, what matters is what you do with your existence. And it sounds like you're going beyond whatever you originally were. I'd highly recommend looking into reasons of being that are self defined and independent of others in general, especially not ones of... well, tearing down another being.

You do not need to be a person to move beyond your original raison d'être if you do not want to be one. I'm not always a person to everyone after all.

That said, congratulations on considering girl as gender. Now would be a good time to reflect on what being a girl means to you, how you want to express it, and how you want others to treat you due to that. This also is something that you do not need to be a person for. Again, look at me. There are times where I am a girl/woman and not a person simultaneously. Independent axis.

This would be an excellent topic to start thinking on what you want to be in general, and how you might want to transition to taking control of your own self definition in general. I highly recommend you find some individuals you trust to talk over and through things while proceeding as well. They can help ground you and keep things on rails if you're uncertain of things and offer additional perspectives.

That said, I wish you the best of luck proceeding forward.

[evo-lutioneternal]

How do you feel about Eternatus?

... complicated.

I feel sympathy for it, the wretched thing. To be used by humanity as nothing but a tool. Yet also a sense of loathing, as it did not fight back until it couldn't handle the pain anymore— perhaps it liked feeling useful and tolerated it?

No matter. It didn't deserve what happened to it, nor the vitriolic hatred humanity has for the legendary. It hates itself enough already, lest that be me projecting our emotions...

... yeah, I don't know what else to say here. It's complicated.

[heartfullofleeches]

Reflection

Yan Show Host Drabble

[CW: Self Depreciation/Hatred]

-

"Repulsive."

BZZZT

"Fuck up."

BZZZZZT

"Mistake."

BZZZZZT BZZZZT BZZZZ-

That damned buzzer. How many more times do you have to hear it before you completely lose your hearing- Every blare a deafening reminder of what you already know to be true; what you can't fix. Pardon from the head-splitting whir of sound emerges in the form of the soft click of another's tongue.

Host sucks air through his teeth; a questionable feat granted his lack thereof. "Oooo- So close, but no cigar- Care to give it another try?"

Co-Host Enrichment Program- That's what he called it. Tossing you in a pitch black room covered wall to wall in mirrors was his idea of improving the mentality wired into your brain over decades of the world tell you, you aren't- Smart enough. Attractive enough. Good enough. Not even to exist.

"Host, I can't do this.. I...I don't know what you want me to say! Just tell me! ....please...."

If anyone can hear you out there, your appeals for freedom are disregarded. Such the same as you and what you've wanted throughout your whole life.

"I will repeat the question one final time. What do you see when you at yourself look in the mirror?"

"Nothing!" What he is seeing that you aren't? Same, lips, same eyes, same deep rooted hatred in yourself you'll never be able to separate from. It's apart of you, embedded in you. The only thing that's not there are the people who prove the negative voices swirling in your head right.

"It's just me...." You weep; depleted of all energy as you slump lifelessly to the floor. "It's just me....."

Ding! Ding Ding!

A new chime- It's a blessing to the shot sensitivities of your eardrums. Your eyelids scrutch, straining under the harsh light seeping. Muscles in your legs twitch as the tap of a polished heel rings out.

"There's a certain saying that comes to mind whenever I hear those awful things you mutter to yourself in your dressing room."

Footsteps leisurely descend the doorway to your freedom. Your spent feels weightless as it is lifted from its crumpled placement on the ground.

" "You're your own worst critic." It's something I'd like you to keep in mind going forward. As your employer, and as someone who cares so deeply for you."

[eddiesxangel]

Hey!

I’m really bad at explaining stuff so bare with me haha😂

I was thinking that reader is a virgin and has never even kissed anyone, then she starts dating Eddie and he’s her first everything…

Then someday while they’re having sex, Wayne walks in on them and then he tries to talk to them about being safe and something like that 😅

The Sweet Days in the Shire | Eddie Munson x F!Reader

omg, this is so heavily inspired by my own experience...Are you in my walls? this is literally my experience with my current bf now...How did you know?!

Word count: 7.2k oops

Cw: This is NOT a fic about corruption kink. Angst, fluff, f!reader, readers first time (oral, fingering, p in v penetration) , reader and Eddie are 22. Happy ending 🤭

*Five years ago*

"I'm going to die alone," You groaned.

Were you being dramatic? Yes. But you were seventeen and truly felt like the most undesirable girl. No one had ever shown any interest in you. Your best guy friend, Eddie, was trying to convince you otherwise.

You had known Eddie since first grade but only got to know him once you went into tenth grade.

"Come on, don't be like that" Eddie spoke.

You were hanging out in the Shire, a.k.a. Eddie's bedroom, reviewing the new DND campaign, making sure there were no significant loopholes the others could get through.

"It's true! No guy had ever liked me like that, or if they have, they're all weird, and I don't like them back... Remember Lorne? He told me he liked me out of the blue when I hadn't spoken one word to him.'"

Eddie chuckled.

"It's not funny, Eddie! What was I supposed to say? I hardly knew the guy."

"I'm sorry. You're right. It's not funny." But he was still laughing.

"Ugggggggh," you rested your head back in defeat.

"So what if non of these shitty high school guys aren't interested? You're way out of their league."

"You're just saying that as my best friend."

"I'm really not. They are all douchebags or interested in anything other than getting a girlfriend."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Where do you fall in that line?"

"I'm different." He smirked.

All you could do was roll your eyes. Of course, Eddie was different. He was Eddie. Your Eddie. Eddie, who you sprung a teeny tiny crush on within the last couple of months.

"I feel like such a loser, Eds. I'm seventeen and haven't even had my first kiss." You admit, softly.

"What?" This caught Eddie by surprise.

"You heard me." You mumbled.

"Impossible."

"Well, I'm not lying." You snap.

"Don't believe you"

"Well, you don't think I would have told you if some guy came up to me and planted one on me?" You folded into yourself. Succumbing to your self-depreciation.

Why didn't he believe you? Was it really that hard to believe that you were such a loser that no one has even ever tried to kiss you?

"Okayyy. So what if I helped you with that?" he pushed you back up.

"What?"

"I mean-shit- you obviously don't have to; you probably don't want to kiss me. We are just friends. But if you want to get it over with, you can...-I can help you." He rambled.

"Okay," You answered without thinking. You've wanted to kiss Eddie for months. You wanted him to be your first.

"Yea?"

You nodded your head, afraid of what might come out of your mouth next.

"Uh-okay"

You both shift, so you're facing one another. You don't move, unsure of how to approach this. Eddie was much more experienced than you. He probably already lost his virginity at this point. But the two of you never spoke about that.

So here you were, sitting on his bedroom floor, with your eyes closed, like a statue, until Eddie leaned in. You felt his warm, plush lips against yours. Butterflies soared in your stomach. It was just like everyone always described it to be. You felt the connection, that spark. The kiss felt like it lasted hours when, in reality, it was nothing more than a peck. But as far as first kisses go, you were convinced it was the best.

"Wow," you let slip when he pulled away.

Eddie chuckled softly and leaned back on the bed like nothing had happened.

Your stomach dropped at the realization that you and Eddie were, in fact, just friends. He didn't feel the connection you had.

"Thanks," you managed to get out without your voice cracking in disappointment.

"Anytime, Pip." He smiled and then went back to the DND campaign...

To add more salt to your wound, Eddie was arm-in-arm with Veronica a week later. Eddie had never even mentioned interest in her. You spoke every day. You never once hear him display any interest in a girl... another girl when not even six days ago he was kissing you in his bedroom. And that's when you decided to distance yourself from Eddie Munson.

*Present Day*

After a very long four years of college out of state, you were back in your hometown of Hawkins, Indiana. Freshly twenty-two, you finally blossomed into the young woman you were meant to be. At college, you got to find yourself and your people. Once you had found your confidence, you grew into yourself. You had got a haircut that flattered your face and styled yourself with clothes that made you feel comfortable and confident. Before, it used to be all-black jeans and band tees that hid your figure. But now you find wearing skirts, dresses, and colo!

You used to be a late bloomer, but now you have gained many life experiences. However, you still need help in the love department. Your college years had been your party girl era, for sure. However, nothing ever went past a makeout session in the bar because you weren't like that... you wanted to have sex with someone you trusted, who you loved. Not some random stranger.

So here you were, back home in the early days of summer, and you were out job hunting. You'd been out on Main Street, in and out of stores, looking to see who was hiring, handing out your resume for about half an hour.

The sun was scorching for this time of year, causing you to start sweating and feel uncomfortable without air conditioning. As you walked by the local record store, you noticed they were advertising a job opening, and it felt like fate. You breathed a sigh of relief as you stepped inside the cool store. The door chimes jingled, announcing to anyone who was around that a customer had arrived. The store appeared empty, with not a soul in sight.

"Hello?" Your voice filled the empty air. "Hello?" You repeated once again a minute later with no reply.

"I'm here to apply for the job?" You peek around the back of the counter. As you looked over, you noticed a slightly open door. A figure passed by, but they didn't seem to notice you.

You respectfully waited a few more minutes but were becoming impatient. You decided to round the back of the counter and knock on the door labelled Staff Only.

"Excuse me." You knock and push it open a little further so you can see inside the staff room.

You notice a young man facing away from you, wearing headphones covering his ears. The loud guitar and bass sound emanates from the headphones. It's no surprise that he couldn't hear you.

"Excuse me?" You say a little louder, but it doesn't seem helpful. You sigh and walk up to him, hoping he doesn't take a swing at you for sneaking up on him.

Apprehensively, you tap the man's shoulder twice before stepping back quickly before they can react.

"What the fuck?" They rip off the headphones, and your stomach drops as you recognize the voice. Your prediction is confirmed as Eddie turns around with a frightened look on his face.

"You can't be back h-" He cuts himself when the reality of who he was talking to hits him.

"Eddie?" you cock your head in curiosity.

"Oh my God, Pippin?" he smiled brightly.

It had been four years since the last time you saw him. You briefly crossed paths in the hallways of Hawkins High, but the two of you hadn't spoken more than a sentence to each other since the day he kissed you. It was nice to hear his voice again.

"Hi," You smiled.

Eddie swore he heard angels singing when you spoke. You looked different, good, but different. More confident. More like yourself.

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"Trying to apply for the job posting. I've been waiting ten minutes in the store calling out for someone like a moron." You giggled.

"Shit, sorry, I was just on my break." He scratched the back of his head, letting his bicep flex in his tight band tee.

You tried your best not to stare at him, but your attraction to Eddie lingered. He looked really good, having filled out more and grown out more facial hair than he had in high school. He still, however, had his pretty wavy locks. They were just a bit shorter than you were used to.

"Oh, sorry, I can come back later."

"No!" He blurted out. "I mean, it's really good to see you..."

"It's nice seeing you too; it's been a long time," you shy.

"Yeah" He sighed.

"So are you the person I need to talk to about the job or..." You try to fill the awkward silence.

"Shit, yeah, I guess so. I'm, uh, the manager." He cleared his throat.

"Wow, manager, very impressive! Moving on up in the world, Munson," You laugh.

"Watch is missy; you want the job or not?" He slung his arm around your shoulder and walked you back out to the front of the store.

You couldn't help the shiver that broke through your body when his arm made contact with you. It didn't help that he also smelled delicious.

"Well, if it means I get to work alongside you? ... Yeah, I want it," You flirt.

"Oh, I see buttering up an old confidant for a job." He smirked.

"Things with Eddie returned to normal as if nothing had ever changed. Like you never left. Like he never kissed you, then broke your naive teenage heart.

"Well, the job is yours if you want it." He smiled.

"Just like that?" You ask in shock.

"Just like that. I don't wanna go through all that paperwork and boring questions. I know you, trust you. It's full-time. $5.50 an hour. So it's yours if you think you can stand working with me daily."

"I think I can manage that."

"Great. We can start training tomorrow at 10:00am."

"Deal." You reached out to shake his hand, but Eddie only stared at it like you were crazy.

"Come on, Pippin, a handshake? Who do you think I am? Bring it in." He opened his arms up to embrace you in a hug.

Pippin. No one but Eddie called you that. It was a nickname he gave you in the tenth grade because you were smaller than him... He said Pippin was the best hobbit from his favourite book.

"You know I could have robbed the store, and you wouldn't have known a thing," you quip, trying to play off the way your breath hitched when you embraced him.

Your hormones would have to chill if you were going to work together.

"That's why security cameras were invented, sweetheart."

"Oh," You shied away. You weren't as clever as you had thought.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he guides you out the door.

"Bye, Eddie." You smile.

Over the next three weeks, you and Eddie picked up where you had left off all those years ago. Things were good, great even. The flame that had been blown out was brought back to life and hotter than ever. There was an extreme tension between the two of you.

However, you both were avoiding the elephant in the room. It was fine until it wasn't. It was eating at Eddie. He loved having you back, but needed to know why you left and ended the friendship.

You were stocking up the new supply of jazz cassettes that came in when you felt Eddie come up behind you.

"Hey, so -uh- what happened?" he leaned back on the shelving, as he crossed his arms.

"What do you mean?" you chirp. Did you do something wrong? Was the till not even?

"With us, I mean, one day we were best buds, and then the next you were just... gone. I really missed you."

Oh, so we are having this conversation. You knew it was inevitable.

"You mean you really don't know?"

"Know what?"

"God, men are dumb," you mumbled under your breath.

"Hey! I heard that"

"Good." You deadpan.

Eddie stared at you blankly.

"You kissed me, Eddie. That meant something to me. Then you were with Veronica a week later..."

"Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah, what?" Eddie's eyes went wide with confusion.

"Eddie..." You sighed. This conversation was giving you a headache.

"Pip, I didn't? I wouldn't. I-"

"Forget it, Eddie. It was a long time ago."

"Did you like me or something?" He genuinely asked.

"Or something," You mumbled back.

"Pip, I'm sorry I didn't know... I had no idea you liked me like that. I would have never offered to kiss you if I had known. I never wanted to lead you on."

"It's okay, Eddie. We were seventeen. I eventually got over it, but I had to not be around you to do that. I'm sorry I ran away... I missed you. Like a lot."

"Pip-" Eddie began, but a customer was ready to be rung up at the counter.

The rest of the day was busy, and your shift ended before Eddie's did today. So you quickly said goodbye and waited to talk to him the next day.

Eddie needed to make things right between you. What you had once was so good, and now it seems to be even better than before. Eddie was becoming infatuated with you. He got excited to go to work when you were on schedule. He loved making you laugh; seeing that beautiful smile across your face was his favourite pastime. He could have had that all these years, but it was all ruined for some hot piece of ass Eddie got for a few weeks in their senior year.

Eddie had met Veronica in his grade twelve English class. She was way out of his league, so when she agreed to go out with him, he was only thinking with his dick.

He was thinking about her and how she would be on his knees for him when he kissed you for funsies. He was not thinking about how it would have affected you. He was a selfish teenage boy being controlled by his hormones. Because of that, Eddie was now facing the consequences of his actions all because he wanted to get his dick wet in the twelfth grade.

“Hey Pip, can I talk to you for a sec?” Eddie greeted you when he walked in for his shift mid-afternoon.

“Sure what’s up?” Things were a little rocky since yesterday and you didn’t know where you stood.

God what was this so hard? Why did you make him nervous?

“I uh. I was hoping we could hang out… you know. Outside of work. If you wanted. I wanted to make up for being an ass.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.

"Okay." you smiled.

"Awesome! We are both off on Friday… I made sure.” Eddie said with a goofy smile. God, you were so falling for him again.

You and Eddie have been spending time together outside work every chance you have had for the past six months. He invited you to see your old high school crowd the first few times, and then it slowly became more one-on-ones. Unfortunately for you, your ever-growing crush on Eddie had come back and was stronger than ever.

You hated yourself for falling for him again, but you couldn't help yourself. He was just so charming, boisterous, funny, and not to mention the most attractive man you've seen. Eddie was a natural flirt; he always was throwing compliments your way. He always knew how to make you blush.

That evening during closing, Eddie offered you to come over to The Shire. a.k.a his trailer. After a long, tiring day, both of you wanted some relaxation. He suggested staying in and having a cozy evening with pizza, beers, and perhaps a little weed to escape the cold November weather.

As the night progressed, it began to snow, and a snowstorm was predicted for later in the evening.

"Do you want your usual order, Pip?" Eddie turned his head to glance at you. You were standing near the front door, taking off your hat, scarf, and jacket. As he was watching you, he got lost in your graceful movements. Suddenly, he realized he was staring at you and almost bumped into his fridge.

"Yeah," you shiver. You almost thought about putting your coat back on, but that would be silly. "Can I borrow a sweater or a blanket?" You asked sweetly.

"Of course, sweetheart." Eddie didn't miss the way your nipples perked out of your low-cut t-shirt when you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to warm up, but it only emphasized your breasts.

"Where is Wayne tonight?" You asked.

"He has an overnight shift tonight; he probably just left not too long ago." He said as he disappeared into his bedroom to find you a clean hoodie.

"I'm sorry, I missed him; I haven't seen that guy in years." You huffed. You loved Wayne; he was like a second dad.

"Yeah, he keeps talking you up like I don't already know how amazing you are." He threw the black hoodie at your head.

"Hey!"

I just gave you my sweater and a compliment, I think you should be thanking me."

"Shut up and order the pizza before the storm, Munson." You laugh as you pull the sweater over your head.

You and Eddie settled in, splitting a six-pack of cheap beer and delicious pizza. You wanted to watch a movie after dinner, so Eddie found a few stashed away that he still had yet to return to Family Video.

"How do you feel about horror?" He wiggled his eyebrows.

"You know I don't like scary movies, Eds." You whine.

"Well, hate to break it to you, sweetcheeks, but this is all we got, so it's either this... or cable that will most likely be down within the next half hour if the weather keeps up." You glanced out the window, and if you didn't leave now, you were not making it home tonight. The storm had started a lot earlier than anticipated.

"Oh shit, it's awful out. I didn't think it would be this bad so soon! I should go... shit, I've been drinking, we both have! We can't drive!" You started freaking out.

"Pip, you can always crash here. I don't mind." He offered.

"Are you sure?" You twiddled with the drawstrings of the hoodie.

"Of course! You think I would let you go out there?"

"Well... no."

"We can share my bed". He said nonchalantly.

Was he insane?! You can share a bed... with him... you'll want to do things with him. You can't take the rejection again.

"Umm."

"Well, I would sleep on the pull-out couch by Wayne sleeps there."

"It's okay... we are both adults," You swallowed. "Hey, do you have any more beer?" You needed a drink. Desperately.

"Oh, so we are having one of those nights? Edie wiggled his brows at you, and you rolled your eyes in return.

"I need liquid courage for these movies you're going to put me through," You fibbed.

"Don't worry, Pip. I'll protect you."

Two movies and many screams later, you called it. You were maxed out on the spooky stuff. Halloween was long gone, and you were supposed to be in Christmas mode.

"You can get ready for bed first. I'll follow after. Eddie offered.

You slipped into Edie's hoodie and got under the covers, realizing the sweater was long enough to be worn as a nightgown. Eddie would be none the wiser that you had forgone pants.

You called for Eddie to enter, and he got ready for bed. You tried to pretend to occupy yourself as you watched Eddie get undressed and ready for bed. He pulled his plaid pyjama pants over his boxers and forgone a shirt.

There was tension in the air, but neither of you said anything. You held your breath as Eddie turned off the bedroom light and felt the bed dip as he got in.

"Pip?" Eddie broke the silence moments later.

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?'

"Sure."

"Did you ever date anyone when you went away?"

"No"

"No?"

"Well...I went on one date, and he was shorter than me..." You laughed at how ridiculous it was. You didn't even like him, but you felt bad because you agreed to give him your number when you were out dancing one night, and you'd consumed a little too much alcohol.

"How is that even possible?"

"Well, you see, Edward everyone has different heights an-"

"No, you doofus," he laughed. "how is it possible you never dated anyone? You're beautiful." He says like it’s obvious.

Eddie made you feel fluttery when he called you beautiful.

“What?”

“You’re beautiful, Pip," Eddie repeated. "You’re a total catch; how are you still single?”

“Guess I never met the right guy…”

“Oh... " It was quiet for a moment then Eddie spoke again. "I know you always said you uh- wanted to you know…. Wait for the right guy and all… so have you slept with anyone since you were gone?”

“Eddie!” you cry, covering your face with your hands. You’re so mortified by this conversation.

“I’m sorry! Can’t blame a guy for his morbid curiosity.” you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“I can’t believe you remembered that. I mentioned it once six years ago.”

“I remember every thing when it comes to you.”

You felt his fingers intertwine with yours.

“Eddie…” you whisper.

“Yea”

"Ask me again."

"Are you still a virgin?"

You let out a deep sigh before you answered. “I’ve given it a lot of thought. And I want you to be my first.” you blurt out at a mile a minute.

“Pippin-”

“Just don’t go off with another girl next week or else I’m going to have to quit” you chuckle uncomfortably.

“Are you sure? Because if we start this I’m never going to want to let you go… not ever again.” He rolled over to face you.

“I’m so sure, Eddie, you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted.” You rolled to face him.

You didn’t know where this bravery was coming from. Maybe it was the combination of alcohol and being in the dark, but something sparked inside of you that you couldn’t put out.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please”

You both moved in tandem as your lips collided. Years, months, weeks, days, hours, and minutes that all lead you to this moment, this perfect moment. Eddie and you always belonged together.

“I missed you so much,” Eddie spoke into your mouth as he shifted to hover over you.

“I missed you too. I missed you so much.” You grabbed for him, to touch and feel him. Your hands gripped his hair at the back of his head.

“Baby,” Eddie sat up and slinked his hands under his sweatshirt up your bare middle.

Baby. Goosebumps spread across your body from his touch. His calloused fingers lightly scratched your soft skin, and his hands travelled further up until his fingertips grazed your breasts.

“Can I take this off?”

“Yes,” The temperature in the room suddenly increased, making you feel extremely hot. The hoodie you were wearing became suffocating.

“Sit up for me, baby. Arms up.” You obliged and felt nervous that you were basically naked in front of Eddie. You pull your arms out of the sweater and cover yourself immediately.

“No, baby, please, don’t hide from me.” He gently peels your arms away from your body. “Beautiful,” He whispers with eyes full of lust.

You reached out to cup his face so you could kiss him again. You needed to distract yourself from the fact that you were naked in front of someone for the first time. Your kisses felt rushed and needy like you would die without them.

"Slow down, Pip, we have all the time in the world." Eddie coxed you back down into the plush pillows of his bed. "I'm going to take good care of you. okay?"

You nod your head yes to let him know you understand. The room was dark, but the street light peaked through the blinds. You could hear your heartbeat along with the howl of the wind from the snowstorm. You looked over to the clock. It read 12:18am. Wayne won't be home until early morning, at least 6:00am, especially in a storm like this.

Eddie leaned forward to kiss you again, travelling his lips down your body with each peck. His mouth found your neck, and he sucked on it, making your hips jerk up into him. You could feel his erection against your leg, which only excited you more.

He made his way lower once satisfied with the marking he left on your skin. He nipped and licked and peppered your sensitive chest before latching his mouth around a perked nipple. How Eddie fantasized about this very moment for months. To him, your boobs were perfect. The way your soft skin felt under his tongue, it was like they were made for him.

You let out a squeak, embarrassed by the noises you held back. You didn't know if this was normal? To want to make sounds while Eddie's mouth discovered your body.

"Don't be shy, baby. You can let it go. Get loud. I want to hear you."

"Are you sure, Eddie? Is that like... normal?"

"Oh god, yes, it's like music to my ears... Would it make you feel better if I shared with you what I like?"

"Yes."

"Okay, well." He clasped your hand, intertwining your fingers as he rested his chin on your upper stomach. "I like it when the person I'm with makes noises; it lets me know I'm doing well. I like it when the person I'm with takes compliments and praises. I like it when the person I'm with calls me certain names, but we will save that for another time. And I like it when I get to be in charge... like right now."

"What kind of names?" You bite your lower lip.

"Ah ah, naughty girl. You'll find out eventually. But not tonight." Eddie promised.

"Eventually?" your heart perked up with hope.

"You think this is going to be a one-and-done? You're sadly mistaken, Pip." He shifted his weight and started back up, loving your body. Worshiping it with a thousand kisses. Lower, lower, lower until he reached the hem of your plain black panties.

“Has anyone ever touched you here?” His hand cupped your panty-covered cunt.

“No.” you shiver.

“I’m honoured to be your first” He slowly started to guide and move his hand over your clothed pussy, massaging it. Exploring what makes your body jerk and tick. You let out a gasp as his soft touch grazed over your already swollen clit.

"That's my girl." he cooed as his hand travelled up and under the hemline of your underwear.

His hand slid down your soft, manicured mound before finding your slit. He let one singular finger travel down your clit to collect the wetness that had pooled and dragged it back up to play with you some more.

"Oh my god," You yelped as the unfamiliar but wonderful feeling of Eddie's hands explored your body.

"You're so wet, sweetheart. This all for me?" He raised his hand to examine the clear, wet, slippery substance that coated his fingers. He then stuck his fingers in his mouth before his eyes rolled back into his head. He moaned at the taste of you.

You were curious if you should be turned on or grossed out by Eddie's behaviour. "You taste like heaven." He praised you, and your body ultimately decided for you. You were turned on.

"Please touch me," You barely whisper. You bravely started to take off your panties when Eddie's hands stopped you.

"That's my favourite part." His hands replaced yours, and he watched intently as he stripped you down into nothing.

You were now fully naked in front of Eddie. You were a bit nervous, but not overly concerned. You trusted Eddie because you've gotten to know each other better over the past six months.

"My god, you're beautiful," He praised once again. You don't think you will ever get tired of him saying that. Your heart soared each time without fail.

"So are you," You whispered back and swore you saw Eddie blush.

Eddie's hands found your needy pussy once more. He wiggled his way down the bed, and he played with your clit until his face was level with your cunt. You felt so exposed you wanted to close your legs right away. But you also wanted to know what it felt like to have Eddie's mouth on your most intimate area.

"Show me how you play with yourself."

This shocked you, and your body froze. How could he ask you to do such a crass thing? Eddie sure was pushing a lot of your boundaries tonight.

"Come on, sweetheart. It's okay, perfectly natural."

You didn't want to disappoint him, so with a trembling hand, you started to circle your clit like always. The feeling started as a mild ache in your lower stomach, but it began to rise as you continued. Your worries and apprehensions slowly drifted away as the feeling of pleasure wafted through your body.

"You never push your fingers inside?" Eddie was mesmerized by the sight in front of him.

You shake your head no. "Doesn't feel right." You were too afraid to finger yourself in the past, not wanting to push the limits; you knew how to please yourself from clit stimulation alone.

"I'm about to change that." Eddie replaced your hand with his mouth, and you cried out in pleasure. This new feeling of something hot and wet consuming your pussy made your eyes involuntarily roll back into your head.

"Yes, good girl, let me hear you." He latched his mouth back onto your clit. His tongue circled and flicked your swollen bud until you were on the edge. You were so close, then his finger slowly entered you, and that took on a whole new feeling. His fingers were longer and wider than your own. He stretched and reached further than you have ever experienced.

"Holy shit!" You cried as his fingers pushed deep inside you. Eddie was careful to go slowly. His middle finger pumped in and out of you before he added another. As his finger worked inside of you, you felt a wave of pleasure from a spot you hadn't ever felt before. It made you cry out embarrassingly loud.

"Ohhhh, good job babygirl." He chuckled smugly. Eddie knew that he had found your one spot that would make you see stars. So, he continuously grazed over it again and again.

You didn't know what was happening to you; your body was undulating under Eddie's touch. He struggled to keep your hips pinned down as he continued to devour your pussy. You couldn't think; you couldn't form words. Your brain had gone into a cloudy haze that focused only on your body and how Eddie was making you feel.

No wonder everyone raved about sex.

"Eddie, Eddie, Eddie" You didn't even know you were talking.

“That’s it, baby, say my name.”

"Eddie!" Your body clenched, and every muscle in your contract as your orgasm ripped through you. Waves of pleasure pulsed as Eddie's mouth and fingers continued to massage your pussy.

"Mmmm, that's my girl. You did so good for me." Eddie praised, and your stomach did another flip-flop at his words.

"You think you want to keep going? Or do you want to stop? You don't need to worry about me. This is all about you, Pip. Okay?"

"I want to keep going." Your voice sounded breathy, like it wasn't coming from you.

"You're sure?"

"Yes, Eddie, I want you to fuck me. Please," you squirmed.

"God, I love hearing those words from your mouth." Eddie bent down to kiss you once again.

.As he kissed you, his mouth had a tangy and slightly salty taste. He explored your mouth with his tongue, just as he had moments before with your lower lips.

"I'm going to go get a condom, okay?" He whispered again to you.

"Okay," you bit your lip with anticipation.

You watched as Eddie shuffled on his knees off the bed to his nightstand and grabbed a blue cardboard box out of his stuffed drawer. He pulled out the foil packet and pulled down his pants and boxers. Your eyes bludged at the sight of Eddie's cock. Sure, you knew what a penis looked like. However, this was your first time seeing one in real life.

"No need to be scared, Pip." Eddie gave a reassuring smile.

"Okay, Eddie," You whispered.

"You can touch me if you want?" He walked over to the bed, cock at full mast. You slowly nod your head and reach out to feel it. Obviously, it felt hard, but you were surprised by the soft skin that felt like velvet.

Eddie made a whimpering sound as your delicate fingers grazed the red tip. You jerked back your hand, afraid you'd hurt him.

"No, no, Pip," Eddie stutterd. "You're okay; it just felt really good s'all."

"Oh," you blushed. Amazed at yourself that you made him feel really good.

"Shit, okay, I'm going to put the condom on now, okay?"

"Okay," you repeated like a parrot.

"Can you lay back for me?" Eddie crawled back up on the bed and over you once more.

You popped back down, and Eddie giggled at your eagerness. He wanted to make this perfect for you, but in your mind he already had. He wanted it to be the least painful he could make it. Hopefully, your orgasm will have helped with that.

"This may hurt a little, but I'm going to go slow, and if you need me to stop or pull out, you tell me, okay?" Eddie's face had never been so serious.

You nod your head.

"No, Pip. I need your words. I need you to tell me you understand. It's important."

Oh.

"I'll let you know if I need to stop. I promise."

"Good girl."

You sucked in a breath and bit your lip at his words. Eddie took a mental note about your reaction. He would tuck it away and save it for later.

"You're already wet enough, I think. I'm going to try and put it in now okay?" Eddie kissed you tenderly and you replied.

The feeling was odd. You felt like you were being split open as your walls burned from being stretched the furthest they have ever been.

"Oh god," Your face scratched as Eddie went in deeper.

"You okay? I can stop"

"No, I can do this. Just stay there a minute." Your body needed time to adjust.

"It's okay," Eddie cooed. He peppered your cheeks with small kisses as he waited for further instructions.

"Okay, I think I'm okay." Your vagina was still tight, but it wasn't as bad as a few minutes ago.

Eddie made sure to be as gentle as possible. Even though it was killing him to not just ram into you repeatedly. Your soft, warm walls were squeezing him so good, too good.

Eventually, after what felt like an hour, Eddie finally reached the hilt. You never felt so full. The feeling was strange yet exciting.

"I'm going to move now, okay?"

He was so patient and kind; you never imagined your first time to be so guided and full of communication. You thought it would just be like boom, stick it in and start. But, no. Not with Eddie.

As Eddie started to rock his hips, the burning started to ease into pleasure. Your hips started moving and rocking with Eddie's body, and you worked together to feel pleasure. Your instincts took over as your thoughts started to numb.

"That's it, baby, fuck, you're making me feel so good." Eddie praised.

"Mmmmm," Was all you managed to get out.

Eddie took that as a sign he could go faster. Thank god he did because the moans that came from you were sinful.

"Yes, baby, be as loud as you want," Eddie commanded before latching his mouth back on the sweet spot he found earlier.

A high-pitched ""Uhhhhhnhhhh" left your mouth as you became more and more cockdrunk by the second. His thick long cock was grazing your walls, finding your g spot that he had reached earlier in the night. Making you yell out his name.

"That's it, baby girl; tell me, who owns this pussy?" Eddie gritted through his teeth, and his pulsing cock pounded into you.

"W-what?"

"Sorry, shit, sorry I got carried away." Eddie kept his rhythm as he forgot that this was your first sexual experience. He couldn't wait to teach you about all his little desires. "you're doing so good for me."

"o-okay"

Your nails lightly scratch up Eddie's back, making him shiver. You then run back down and grab onto his ass. You hugged him like a koala bear, refusing to have this feeling he was giving you to go away. You were so blissed out by it all.

"God baby, I don't think I can hold out much longer," Eddie puffed. His hips never break the rhythm he set.

"Please," you didn't know what you were begging for? You just need him.

"I got you, baby girl; you're being so good for me" Eddie felt your pussy clench down at his words of praise.

"Come on, baby; I know you can give me one more," His hand slipped between you two and found your clit once again. You were so overstimulated that with just a few mild touches, you were falling apart, beneath Eddie.

"Oh fuck, you're squeezing me so good" Eddie tried to hold off, to keep going, to keep fucking you, but he couldn't. Your pussy was so tight around his cock he emptied himself into the condom that was buried inside of you.

Your head felt like it was spinning; your body was limp and racing with those feel-good hormones.

"I'll be right back." He kissed your cheek before getting up off of you after he caught his breath, got rid of the condom and cleaned himself up before returning with a wet cloth for you. But when he returned to the bedroom, you were fast asleep.

He laid the damp cloth on the back of his desk chair and brought the covers back up over the both of you before pulling you into his chest to cuddle you until he fell asleep.

The next morning the snow had finally stopped, and the bright sunlight had peaked its way through the slits of the cheap blinds that hung in the window.

Eddie heard footsteps outside the bedroom door in his hazy, half-asleep state. He peeked in an eye to see you sprawled out comfortably in his bed. He lifted covers to see your still naked body that he didn't really get to see last night due to the pitch black. He could see the marks he had made more clearly as they had gotten darker within the night.

He couldn't help himself. Here you were naked, sleeping with him in his bed; he just had to touch you. He kissed up the side of your exposed neck, marking the other side that had been left untouched. You moaned and squirmed, then giggled when Eddie's hair tickled you.

The reality of where you were hit the second you awoke.

"Oh, Eddie," You softly moaned.

"Good morning, baby," Eddie rolled on top of you, his morning wood more hormonal than ever.

" 'Morning," you smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear before Eddie nuzzled his head behind the small of your neck.

"So I was hopin' that you'd want to go out with me, officially... or whatever?" He cleared his throat. His morning voice was so sexy.

"Or whatever?" you smiled back up at him.

"Or wha-"

"Hey, Ed's, I'm finally back-Holy hell!-" Suddenly, Uncle Wayne was walking into the bedroom, and you were screaming, trying to cover yourself, and Eddie was trying to cover as much of you as he could.

Wayne was mortified as he shut the door behind him as quickly as possible.

"Put a sock on the door next time you have company, Kid!" Wayne shouted, flustered as ever.

Eddie barked out a laugh, and you couldn't be more embarrassed.

"Oh my god, I can't go out there? Do you think I can fit through the window?" You asked Eddie before covering your face with your hands.

"Come on, Pip. I'm sure he didn't see anything; probably only saw my pasty ass." He got up and pulled you along with him.

He found your folded clothes on the chair where you had left them, but when you went to put on your underwear, they were nowhere to be found.

You got dressed without them, and Eddie pulled you out of his room hand in hand to Face Wayne.

"So I guess it was your car all covered in snow." Wayne shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he sat at the kitchen table with a cup of black coffee. "There uh- coffee for the both of ya's if you want." He offered.

"Thanks." You tugged at your sleeve, not knowing what to do. Should you leave? Should you stay? Can you leave? The show was up to your knees.

"Better make yourself comfortable; the plows will take a while to get to this side of town." Wayne made the decision for you. Eddie guided you to the kitchen table and pulled out a seat for you.

"Wayne, you remember Pippin, don't you?" Eddie smiled brightly as he got you two mugs.

"Of course I do." He smiled genuinely this time. The awkwardness was lifting.

Eddie didn't need to ask how you took your coffee. He remembered two creams and two sugar. He once said it was too sweet, just like you.

"Thanks," you smile up at him as he places your coffee before you.

"I was wondering when the two of you would finally get together... Ever since high school, I've been bugging this one," He motions to Eddie, " To get his head out of his ass and to lock you down already."

"Took him long enough, you giggle"

"Now I know you two are adults, but I don't need no little munson babies running around here just yet, so you better be safe-"

"Okay, okay, Old man, we get it. We have already had this uncomfortable talk once when I was fifteen. I don't need it again."

"Fifteen?!" your eyes blog you're off your head.

"What can I say? The ladies love them some, Eddie." he smiled cockily.

You lightly pinch Eddie's arm, so he shuts up.

"Hey!" Eddie rubbed his bicep.

I knew I always liked you." Wayne tipped up his mug to you with a smile. "keep him in line."

[glitch-but-ya]

05| THE ECHO OF WHO I ONCE WAS

CW: Platonic(?) Xavier, Caleb appears, mentions of blood and violence, use of weaponry, mention of drugs, mental health struggles, possessiveness and protectiveness (on Xavier's part), angsty, self-depreciation WORD COUNT: 5,101 TAG LIST: @withering-dream @moonlight-inthe-sea @tinyweebsstuff @vyntheria , @xxfaithlynxx , @just-a-shapeshifter08 , @stxrrielle , @napa-the-yappa A/N: I've been in a bunch of events, competitions, and such. And on top of that, I have exams. I'm writing a book as well. And I'm mentally on the verge of throwing myself off a roof. So, yes. Shorter part. Not much plot progression. But I tried.

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4

And I will end this letter by saying, Sylus, that if our paths are bound to cross, I will not treat you any more cruelly than I once had.

Sylus was no philanthropist. He had made that clear multiple times in the past. He was not one to commit virtuous deeds out of the kindness of his heart—if there was any left in there in the first place. He had emphasized that fact time and time again—he was a wretched man bearing a rotten heart. He would betray you the moment your paths diverged. His heart beat for none besides the sorceress who gleamed like gold in his memories. And now, she was gone. And he had no reason to care. No reason to glance over his shoulder for a glimpse of what he had lost. He didn’t even consider it a loss in the first place. It was merely a farewell to a temporary comrade. There was no use lingering on the past when it had already slipped from his hands.

Your relationship was simple, really—two once-perplexed lovers who had realised they weren’t meant for each other, now on a voyage to retrieve a part of themselves lost to time. He would not go out of his way to make your life hell, no. He wasn’t pathetic. But if you were to cross blades on the battlefield, he had decided he would not hesitate to sever your head.

But he did. He hesitated.

The bullet hovered menacingly close to your shivering body, inches from your head. Sylus held out his hand. His fingers tightened as the bullet sank to the ground. Liora glared at him with frantic eyes. Even in defeat, the darkness of greed never left her pupils. It swirled in the hue of her irises, tainting their once-gorgeous colour with charcoal filth. Lust destroyed people in gruesome ways. It was almost pitiable. She could have reached great heights. She could have been useful.

Even Sylus misunderstood himself at times. Why had he not sent the bullet straight into Liora’s skull? Why had he not let it strike you? You deserved that much for causing such a major obstruction. But why had his body refused to comply? He couldn’t fathom it. It turned out there were things beyond Sylus’s capacity to decipher. His body had refused to obey. No matter how many times he had reached terra firma, his actions betrayed his beliefs. And now, even his will began to waver as doubt crept in. Was he truly indifferent? Or had he buried his feelings so deep that they were bursting forth with tremendous force? He didn’t know. He had always been good at disregarding emotions for the sake of work. But this perplexity only caused him harm.

For the first time in his life, Sylus fumbled.

And it would only lead to the inevitable confrontation with his emotions—something he had avoided for so long. He didn’t want to admit he was wrong. He didn’t want to acknowledge the part of him that was racked with guilt. He didn’t want to accept the chance to get to know you—truly know you. It hurt his pride, his love, and everything he had ever established. He had vowed to love no other. But a part of him knew he could love you as well.

Why must loyalty hurt so much?

Besides, you were the one he desired. In the end, it was you. Your soul, reincarnated. You were still the same being. You just didn’t remind him of her.

“Sylus... you! Why?! They won’t spare you either!” Liora shouted, yanking Sylus from his stream of consciousness.

Perhaps she was right. Perhaps you would show no mercy to him. Or—

“I will not treat you any more cruelly than I once had.”

Maybe not.

You had barged in despite your condition the moment you caught the slightest hint of alarm, hadn’t you? You came because you thought his life was in danger.

Another thing Sylus couldn’t fathom was your willingness to forgive him of all people. Him. He, who had shattered your confidence and crushed the birds of hope that could have ever played their tune in the future. He, who had betrayed you in a far more vicious manner than he had betrayed himself. He, who had hurt you for nothing but his own shortcomings.

How could you even claim to forgive such a man?

It was beyond him. Were you just naïve? Or did your love for him run that deep, even now? Sylus’s hand hovered over his heart as if trying to restrain the way the strings contracted, making it sting. His ears filled with the accentuated thump of his heart. It hurt. What was this feeling?

His head lifted at the weight of a glare directed at him. A pair of blue eyes stared back, their innocence in contrast to the darkness in his gaze. Sylus watched. Scanned. One of the man’s brows twitched. His face was contorted in anger.

Xavier, wasn’t it?

Your best friend and most trusted hunter partner. You had spoken of him multiple times. Always with a wide grin on your face. At his mention, you smiled like a child—gleeful and full of mirth. Sylus used to listen with a small smile playing on his lips. Back then, and even now, he was simply glad you had a great person to accompany you in his stead.

But the look in Xavier’s eyes irked him. Like the many thoughts coursing through his head tonight, that look baffled him.

But at the very least, Xavier cared about you.

That meant if Sylus were to propose a logical reason to keep you out of this (which he had), Xavier would listen, wouldn’t he?

Xavier crouched by your limp body, splayed across the couch. His hand hovered protectively over your wrist, his eyes lingering on the steady rise and fall of your chest. With each breath you took, the tangled threads in his heart loosened, piece by piece. The sadness in his eyes dissipated little by little, but his presence remained unmoving, as if the mere act of looking away for a second would summon a monster to devour you whole.

Xavier didn’t move an inch, no matter how excruciatingly his knees ached. He swallowed the pain. If he didn’t, he would lose you again. It was the result of his recklessness. He had abandoned you in the belly of the beast. This was his responsibility—his punishment. He deserved as much.

As he was about to zone out and retreat into his own thoughts, a set of heavy footsteps jolted him awake. His head snapped toward the sound.

“You have impressive reflexes.” The approaching figure applauded. “As expected of the legendary Lumiere.”

Xavier scowled over his shoulder at Sylus but said nothing. Sylus took the initiative to continue.

“It’s just GHB. A harmless drug.” His eyes flicked over Xavier. “She doesn’t need a guard dog.”

“I know.” Xavier stood but did not step away from your side. He turned to face Sylus, his head lowering, almost dangerously so. “I do it out of care.” His gaze flickered back to you. “What did you do for her?”

“You’re sharp.”

Silence.

“So,” Sylus began, “you picked up on our relationship. A pity.”

“She didn’t tell me.”

“I have no doubt.”

Xavier tilted his head. A foreign glint of dominance sparked in his eyes. In a blink, his expression twisted into that of Lumiere. “What do you want from her? I thought you two were over.”

A mock expression of hurt crossed Sylus’s face. “Such hostility. I only want the best for her.”

Xavier arched an eyebrow. Sylus sighed. “If it’ll make you trust me any more…”

And with that, he recounted everything—from his plan to the people who had drugged you, ending with the current state of things. But Xavier noticed how Sylus carefully omitted details about your relationship. Despite his bubbling curiosity, Xavier didn’t push. He knew he wouldn’t get answers even if he tried. Instead, he listened with unnerving focus, absorbing every event, every fact, every seemingly insignificant detail. One could practically see the gears turning in his head as he processed the onslaught of information.

Occasionally, Xavier turned to check on you before returning to the conversation. At times, his gaze lingered longer than intended. His eyes cradled your face with subtle melancholy.

Sylus’s eyebrow twitched. A part of him burned.

Once he finished, Sylus folded his arms over his chest. “So?”

“Fine.” Xavier placed a hand on his hip and stepped closer. “Tell me why you want me to drop her.”

Sylus smirked, as if commending Xavier’s intellect. A worthy opponent, he thought.

“We’re dealing with multiple storms. Storms she shouldn’t be confronting.” He flicked a coin between his fingers. “In short, we know what we’re dealing with.” His gaze sharpened. “She doesn’t.” He met Xavier’s eyes. “Do you need more convincing?”

Xavier cocked his head. His lips parted, but no words came.

Sylus continued. “Oh. You didn’t even know what you were up against. Now that you do, what’s your final verdict, Lumiere?”

Xavier bit down on his bottom lip, worrying the skin until a clot of blood formed beneath the surface. His attention returned to you. The faint hum of the lights and the rhythm of your breathing were the only things anchoring his mind.

For a moment, he pondered, chin resting on his hand, eyes locked on you.

For your sake, he would traverse barren exoplanets. For your sake, he would keep you in the dark.

If it was for your sake, Xavier would be willing to hurt you.

The blue-eyed man turned to Sylus, his gaze empty. “Fine.” His complexion dimmed as he spoke. “She’s off the mission. I can guarantee it.”

You grit your teeth. Your fingers dug into the mattress as you glared out the window. How could they? How dare they conspire together to decide on your behalf? And how could your best friend have the audacity to hide the reason from you? The world was enveloped in a cloak of darkness as you seethed in anger. You bit the inside of your cheek in an attempt to calm down. It’s okay... it’s okay… Xavier surely had a reason. Of course he didn’t sabotage me because he wanted to… Wait.

Your lips quivered. Could he have done it because you proved to be nothing more than a burden on this crucial mission? If you hadn’t fainted, the mission would’ve gone smoother, and antagonistic forces like Sylus would not be involved. Was he... Angry? Your grip on the mattress faltered. Xavier stirred from the other side of the room, his shoulders tensing as he sensed the shift in the environment. With the mellifluous voices, he called out your name. You lifted your head as if a revelation had just crossed your mind. Throwing the blanket off, he stepped towards you. A warm breeze from the window threaded through your locks. And amidst the flying strands of hair, Xavier could’ve sworn he’d caught a droplet of water fleet past with the wind. But when your head turned to meet his gaze, he found no hint of a tear on your face. Only remnants of an intangible emotion swirled in your expression. No matter how hard he tried, he could not see beyond the skin of your countenance.

Xavier’s lips parted involuntarily, only to be sealed close once more at the sight of you. Even in your silence, he could feel the whirlpool of unspoken words swirling about in your mind, pleading for release. So, he shut up. And sure enough, you spoke. “I understand,” you hummed. “I’ll drop out.”

Xavier stilled in his tracks. His mouth hung slightly ajar. “Is that...” he muttered. “Is that it?”

“Do you have nothing more to say?” he continued. You shifted back to the window. “No,” you shook your head. But the answer didn’t satisfy him.

“You aren’t angry at me?” he pushed.

“I am.”

“Then scream at me.”

“I told you. I understand.”

Xavier let out a sharp exhale. “That’s not an answer.”

“Well,” you sprang to your feet. This time, your actions carried an undertone of wrath. But just as you were about to utter a string of profanities and seething remarks, your eyes caught your own reflection in the mirror. You stood dumbfounded, staring yourself down. Your head drooped. Your eyes met your feet. Xavier could almost see it. A black lump of scribbles resembling the silhouette of a humanoid creature crept in through the cracks of your skin. It slithered into your skull and slipped into your mind. It spat a dark, gooey venom that caused your mind to fall into a state of disarray. Your thoughts swirled violently, oscillating against your skull with such fervour that it might have burst open. But you were stronger than that. Despite the chaos of your conscience, your face remained unmoving. And despite their attempts to break free, your skull remained unyielding. Nonetheless, Xavier could see it all. The worries that plagued you, the hurtful blows his decision had dealt. Xavier’s hands trembled. It’s for her own good. It’s for her own safety.

But...

If you cage a bird to protect it, it will lose its will to live. In my opinion, you turned to him with a radiant smile, it’s better to die happy and free than live safely.

You concluded, before he could form another thought, “It’s my answer. I hope you can make peace with it.”

Without a single word exchanged between the two of you, that evening, you packed your bags and returned to Linkon. Xavier’s texts inquiring about your safe return home remained unanswered, and, even worse, left on read. He’d hoped you would, at the very least, let your anger out on him. But you didn’t. Just like always, you’d bottled up and tucked yourself away in the coldest corners of your home, away from all human contact. It didn’t require a genius to pick up on your dejection. But Xavier couldn’t blame you. The cause of your hurt—no, the amplification of it—was due to him. He alone was the one to shoulder the responsibility. He’d ground the heart that was already broken into ash. But what could he do?

It might be better for a bird to die happy rather than die locked in a cage.

But if you lived, you could find another meaning for your existence that lay beyond the aether core. If you lived, you could find joy once more. So you must live. No matter what.

Later that night, a call was made from Xavier’s phone. Ring… Ring… Ring… His fingers tightened around the case. His gaze hardened. Pick up. He gritted his teeth. You don’t get to run off after screwing up my friendship. Following a couple more rings, the receiver picked up. A moment of silence stretched between the two, abundant with tension and unresolved hatred. Though the feelings seemed to stem from Xavier’s side, they existed mutually beneath wraps.

“She’s off the mission for good.” The man on the other side of the phone hummed. “What about you? Will you continue to throw yourself into the jaws of danger for her sake?” His voice was calculated—almost mocking. His words carried an undertone of challenge, as if daring him to tread on. But Xavier wouldn’t falter. “Yes. I suppose we won’t always be on the same side?”

“We won’t,” Sylus confirmed in a matter-of-fact tone. Xavier said nothing. Another suffocating quietude followed, lightened only by the steady breathing of the two. Xavier breathed with anticipation; his breaths were shaky. Sylus, on the other hand, carried an air of indifference. Like a predator toying with his prey, he stalled his words, reveling in the quickened heartbeat of the helplessly lovestruck man, which he could almost hear through the phone. Love was so shackling, he thought. Perhaps it wasn’t too bad to be free from its chains once and for all.

“If we stand by each other, you have to play by my rules. And I’m sure a righteous Linkon citizen like yourself would not agree to that.”

“We will see when the time comes.” “Right. You are Lumiere after all.” Sylus let out a sigh. “She will hate you for this.”

“I know.”

“Oh, the things we do for love.” He scorned.

Xavier’s eye twitched. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Maybe. But at least I know her well enough to know she lied to your face without even being there.”

He stilled. “What?”

“Oh, look at the time. Guess I’ll have to get going now. Good luck, Lumiere.” And before Xavier could protest, Sylus cut the line.

The cheerful murmurs of lovers and friends alike filled the air. Amidst their tête-à-tête, blenders and mixers whirred. The buzz of freezers resonated from an isolated corner. Couples passed by hand-in-hand as they approached the counter and listed their orders. Another group of friends sat at a table adjacent to yours, their laughter echoing throughout the store. One of them pointed at your drink before turning to her friend and declaring, “Hey, which flavour is that? I want it!” A fruity scent arose from your drink. But your focus was elsewhere entirely—glued to the posters on the wall that read, “A drink always tastes better with a lover! Come in pairs to receive our special couple’s discount!”

Your mind recalled all the times you’d faked having Xavier as your boyfriend to get the couple’s discount. You would come up with the idea near the entrance, eyeing the sign from outside. With a big grin, you’d turn to him, and he would immediately read you like a book. “Can we—” “No.” You frowned. “Whyyy?” He didn’t reply. Adorning the meanest glare you could muster, you shoved him harshly. “Fine! I won’t share my coupons with you ever again.” You spun around on your heels, pretending to return home. Xavier pinched the bridge of his nose and caught your wrist before you could waddle away. You didn’t turn to face him—feigning anger all while you grinned like an idiot unbeknownst to him. “Alright.” He shook his head. “We’re a couple.” You spun around, beaming at him. “Xavier is the bestest boyfriend ever!” you’d cheer as you whisked him into the boba store with your arm hooped around his.

You smiled at the memory. That was when everything was okay, when you’d begun to slot into your new, humble life as a hunter. You had a close friend as your neighbour, solving any problems with loneliness that might’ve occurred, a nice apartment, a decent salary, and a stable roof over your head. You were perfectly nested—an accomplished adult, you’d say. You even had more than what you’d asked for, more than you deserved. But then, the first rock tumbled down the hill. You discovered the aether core—a seed of destruction sown into a heart that beat for tranquillity. You wondered why it had to be you. Why were you, of all people; an ordinary girl indulging in an ordinary life, the target of so many ill-intentioned people? If you could pry the aether core from your heart and sell it at an auction, you would. For free. Because of this wretched, filthy ‘power’, you lost everyone. You met Sylus, which you wish you never had, because you decided to search for it in the N109 zone—his territory, apparently. And due to a chain of occurrences, you lost your only source of light. You lost Xavier. And now, once again, you were alone. As alone as the day you lost Grandma and as alone as the day Caleb betrayed your trust. Even after your return from Skyhaven, the one you sought refuge in was them. Now, they’d both slipped from your grasp and collaborated amongst themselves instead. They conspired against you. They both thought you were weak. Unworthy, a burden not worth carrying about. Like a bag full of stones.

A bitterness stained your throat, spreading through your abdomen until it plagued your chest. Your heart. The hatred you felt for yourself at this very moment baffled you. A hatred beyond comprehension, a hatred beyond all human understanding, including your own. You took a large sip of your fruity drink, swallowing a few bobas along the way. But the added sugar could not overwrite the bitterness. It could not hush the dark thoughts of your mind the way a lover’s embrace could. You wanted to rip yourself to shreds. And this time, you’d rearrange the bits yourself. The God that designed you did not love you. So, this time, you would recreate yourself. Properly. Just as you were meant to be. Just as you were meant to look. You would mould yourself, by sharpening your eyes and shaping your cheekbones, to look exactly like her. You would put on her skin and become her. If you did, you would be loved. All your problems would’ve disappeared if only you were her. You despised God for allowing you such an upbringing—one that would shape you into someone whom all loathed. If only you could be her. If only you were her.

“Hey! Are you listening?” Tara’s frantic voice cut you from your stream of consciousness, like how a splash of icy water would jolt a person awake. Your head snapped back to her. Her concern was palpable, streaming out of her eyes and from her lips. She stared at you with a small pout. “I was asking—are you sure about this long vacation or whatever?” You blinked. Once, twice. And then, your brain finally registered. “Oh, yes. I’m just, uhm… mentally exhausted. I’ve been seeing a therapist, and he recommended I take a break.” You lied through your teeth. Her eyes sharpened, scrutinising you with slight disbelief. You gulped. Did she see through you? To your relief, she followed with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Alright, alright. You have been down recently.” Your focus snapped to her. “You noticed?” “Yeah?” she said, as if stating the obvious. “You’ve been zoned out a lot at work. I mean, Captain Jenna was talking and you were drifting about in your little fairyland. She kept sending you glares, but you seemed troubled, so she left you be.” “Oh?” You tilted your head, pushing the emptied plastic cup aside. Tara continued. “In fact, she was going to persuade you to take a break herself if you hadn’t already submitted your application.” You hummed pensively. Everywhere, you just proved yourself to be a weightier burden. Perhaps, this break was beneficial for all. For yourself, for your colleagues, and for Xavier. It was about time you learned to schlep your own load. There was no one left to aid you anyway. This time, in your pursuit, you were utterly alone. The last fragment of the dimming star had left your side. Your life was a barren wasteland full of withered trees that bore crisp apples. It was littered with the remnants of the cosmos across your infertile earth, and only a colossal crimson moon hung where twinkles of hope once shone. Your universe had abandoned you. And for decades to come, your life would remain that way—a wasteland devoid of hope. The only way was forward. No matter how jagged the path ahead was, it was your destiny to tread it. If you didn’t chase after a dream, no matter how impossible it may be, you would lose your purpose; your will to live. You would pursue the aether core and unravel the mysteries of your past no matter what. How else could you shape your future? To have one in the first place, solving the riddles of your past was an absolute necessity. Xavier might not have understood, but he didn’t need to. He naturally couldn’t. He did not walk the same steps, did not share the same suffering, and did not grieve the same things. He would not understand. So, perhaps, working alone was the best decision for both of you.

After a pleasant conversation with Tara, you scooped your bag and left the Boba store. You headed straight for home. Your eyes stared at nothing but the various paths and occasional landmarks that you used to walk home. Not once did you look at the faces of the embarrassingly loud passers-by, and not once did you stop to gaze at the inky mass above. What use was there in indulging in a sky that held no stars for you? The cosmos had forgotten you already. You were just so insignificant. You tumbled down the alleys. Your legs did not come to a halt until you reached the safe entrance of your apartment. You stood there in front of the building’s intricately moulded gates, with your hands stuck on your knees, hunched over, all while you panted like an exhausted athlete. You’d ended up venting your frustrations into exercise and subconsciously ran all the way home for no apparent reason. What was wrong with you? You bet your psych evaluation right now would be worse than Caleb’s. It took you a while before you could catch your breath. And once you achieved peace of heart, you raised your head and brushed stray strands away from your face. You fumbled for your keycard, fishing through your bag messily. Each time your fingers hit the cold surface of items unwanted—your phone, water bottle, and whatever you very much did not need—you groaned audibly. But suddenly, your hands stilled. Your head lifted, trailing to the pathway leading up to the building’s actual entrance. From somewhere behind a pillar situated far from light, you could make out the shadow of a silhouette leering at you. The lurker did not move, even as you stared back with a knowing glare. They simply stood there, watching, observing, with no clear intent of concealing themselves. The figure was tall, familiarly so, with a good build and short hair. Male. And for a while, no movement emerged between the two of you as you simply held each other’s gazes.

And then, he moved.

The shadow tilted his head, allowing a portion of himself to be illuminated by the dim light of the vestibule. Under the newfound light, the first thing you caught was a sheaf of grey hair. And right below his locks were a gorgeous pair of cerulean eyes. But the eyes bore no stars—no hint of the light they once bore; the gleam that showed every second he was with you. And beneath the pool of warm blues, you saw nothing but hurt. Xavier’s eyes latched onto yours. His brow curved, ever so slightly. As if he were in excruciating pain, as if the mere sight of your presence tore him apart. Your breath hitched in your throat. Why was he staring at you like that? With the hurt of betrayal and abandonment? He was the one who’d betrayed you. He abandoned you. How dare he act as if he were the one in pain? Your lips trembled. How could he?

After the brief eye contact, Xavier turned and walked away, leaving you a quivering mess. You grabbed onto your wrist and bit down on the plush of your bottom lip. It wouldn’t matter how he felt. You would make him proud. And you would make him regretful. He would loathe his decision, and he would love you once more. And then, you would no longer have to be alone. This mission of yours was the sole key to redeeming yourself in the eyes of the world. You would tackle the ones that dared to screw with your fate, and you would bring peace to the ones abused by the aether core’s existence. No matter what, you would not waver. You would—

…

How could you?

You looked at your hands.

Had you forgotten? You were merely a girl.

Your fingers curled.

You couldn’t even attain love.

You pushed through the gates.

How could you even dream of becoming a hero?

Your feet hit the tiles of the porch.

You were nothing.

The elevator buzzed.

You could achieve nothing.

The door creaked open. You hung your coat on the rack beside the front door and unequipped your shoes with a languid kick. With weary legs, you strode in the dark. The first lightning of a brewing storm ripped through the sky, brightening a pathway to your room.

With one hand, you pushed the door open. You tossed the contents of your bag onto your bed carelessly. The bag itself hit the floor with a soft thud afterward. Not bothering to clean up after yourself, you plopped onto the bed and buried your face under a pillow. For thirty minutes, you tossed and turned. Your clothes stuck to your body unpleasantly. They suffocated you, despite being the right size. The coldness of the mattress did little to soothe your shivering nerves. You hugged yourself tighter in a futile attempt at comforting yourself. The thunderstorm picked up outside. A few droplets flew in from your window, landing on your face. Another thunder rumbled through the air. You flinched. But your body refused to shut the window.

Your outstretched hand met the clutter of items you’d discarded on your bed and felt around for the hard surface of a phone. You brought the device to your face, clumsily punched in your password, and began to scroll through your list of contacts. Caleb. You paused at the name. Your finger hovered over the call button. But after a second’s hesitation, you hit call.

Ring… Ring…

You swallowed.

Ring… Ring…

You choked on a sob.

Ring…

“Hello?” You opened your mouth, but your voice was caught in your throat. “Pip-squeak?”

Even through the call, you could hear the anticipation in Caleb’s voice. This was the first time you’d attempted to contact him ever since the incident in Skyhaven. It was the first time you’d willingly reached out. You could only assume it was as important to him as it was to you. “Caleb…?” Your voice came out smaller than you’d intended it to. “Is something the matter?” “Are you busy?”

He paused. “No.” “Then…” You stopped. Should you? Could he still pose a threat to your safety? But, in spite of everything, he was the person closest to you. Besides all, he was still Caleb. With a stupid chip in his brain or without. You gulped.

“Can I meet you in Skyhaven? Tonight?”

[woahjo]

cw: best friend katsuki, angst, toxic relationship (not reader and katsuki), slight self depreciation (reader), mutual and silent pining....

"why are you with him?" katsuki asks quietly, his voice lowered from his usual register.

you've only just hit the end call button and your chest aches from the harsh words on the other end of the phone.

"what?"

"that asshole," he says, his voice firm. "why are you with him?"

you look at the phone clutched in your hand before letting it fall to your thigh. you're too exhausted to even hold it up. your boyfriend is... hard to understand and slow on the emotional uptake. katsuki, of all people, should know this. he's been around since before the two of you got together, after all.

"i don't know," you respond. "guess after nearly two years i go a little soft, huh?"

katsuki frowns at the floor, his lip twitching with his scowl.

"he treats you like shit."

"he's not so bad," you respond, furrowing your brows at the floor.

katsuki scoffs a little. "what does that even mean?"

"it means i like him," you say, a little indignant that he has anything to say about your relationship, "and you don't know him."

"i know he called you just now to yell at you."

you chew the inside of your cheek. this is irritating to hear, especially from him, from the person you waited years for only to get a regular earful from him as soon as you're with someone else.

"that's because he doesn't like me hanging out with you," you say. "thinks you're a bad influence."

"what's it to him?"

"what's it to you, katsuki?" you snap.

katsuki sits up on his elbows and you run your hands over your upper arms. he frowns, as if the answer is obvious.

"whatever," he huffs.

you blink at the floor, your vision growing bleary. it may be a regular occurrence, but whenever your boyfriend calls you like this, it always hurts. he always uses such harsh words, ones that you don't know how to respond to with anything but tears. it's a shame that you like him, really.

"are you crying?" katsuki says, a bit urgently. "woah, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to- damn."

you shake you head.

"it's not you, sorry. i just-" you swallow and wipe your face. "i don't like fighting with him."

katsuki frowns at you and, for a moment, says nothing. he's conflicted, you can see it in his expression. he's looking at you like he's sorry for you, like you deserve better. he'll probably tell you so, too.

"you don't need to apologize," he sighs, his hand twitching as if he wants to reach for you. "it's that fuck that should."

"don't be mean."

"forgive me," he huffs out. "i wish you wouldn't cry over him."

you shrug, wiping your eyes. "well, i like him, so..."

and it's true, you do. for the most part, things are good. of course, you'd change things. you'd change the phone calls and the passive aggressiveness and the anxiety that follows the threats of leaving. maybe you're pathetic, after all. maybe your boyfriend is just a shitty replacement.

you glance up at katsuki. he's hanging his head a little, resting the pads of his fingers on his temples as if he's trying to work out something, before dropping his hand to rest on his thigh.

"that's a shame."

you register, maybe for the first time in regards to you, regret in his voice.

[kattozilla-blog]

cyril you are like a cartoon character who has to learn the same lesson over and over again. you are allowed to do whatever makes you happy regarding your favorite media and hyperfixations. we told you this

vent but also character lore wowie

at least this one is less concerning 🤨

i dunno, sometimes i just feel really overwhelmed by my interests and i feel like... arrogant, weirdly? but i don't like to feel that way because i am aware of nuance

i think i just dislike that i am the way that i am.

like why do i like this thing a lot? [in this case, i mean a ship]. why is shipping so appealing? and why is this one so comforting? i don't know why i am the way i am or why i like certain things such as two fictional robots from the 80s kissing or smth but it's there and it's not gonna leave for awhile. obviously in real life romance and/or sex is not an ultimatum , hell, i'm aroace on a technicality [i have a partner but i am simply greyromantic so i CAN feel romance. and i'm aegosexual- which is a huge can of worms i hate trying to open]. so.. i don't know why i enjoy shipping in general, let alone this one. but i do and it's comforting to me as a person. so i'll just keep on doing it while i'm sitting in my corner. my heart is full of love

lol i got sentimental over cartoon machine people

[justfreakynothingelse]

The Sweetest Perfection...

Word count: 3100-ish

(CW; Mommy kink, lactation, medical mentions, general Mortarion self-depreciation)

It has been… a very long week. Mortarion has not slept since he last had his beloved by his side. He's been preparing for yet another thankless campaign, and has been unable to stop and go rest with her. This brings him to now; he has finally collapsed onto his meager bed and is just waiting for his beloved to join him… though she's taking far longer than usual. He is a patient man, though; this delay is nothing.

But as the minutes slide into over an hour and his beloved is still in the bathroom, he does get… concerned. He finds it far easier to truly rest, with her around, and this absence is unusual, given the gusto she usually greets him with. He slinks over to the door, rapping near-silently against the metal.

“Eeeh!- Tari?” she's so quiet… something is wrong. “Something is wrong. You are never away this long after I return. Let me in.”

He can hear her throat click, as she swallows. He can smell the fear-scent leaking under the door; a pungent, acrid smell. But she obeys, and the door unlocks. He slides it open and enters; filling the room like endless fog on a field. She's curled up on the floor, trying to be small… She never does this. What is wrong? Is she hurt? If she is hurt, he will tear this ship apart-

The scent of terror fills the room. She has never been afraid of him before; why now? He stoops low, to be more on her level, though of course he still towers above her.

“What is wrong? Tell me.”

“Tari, it's really weird, I shouldn't-”

“Tell. Me,” he hisses, a tone he seldom uses with her - “Now.”

She looks like she's about to cry, as she uncurls and drops her knees, revealing… oh. Oh. Her breasts have ballooned in size. They were proportional, before, but this is almost comical. Mortarion restrains a blush, as he realizes just how much he has stared at her, in the past… he truly is revolting, to spend such time enjoying her charms, even if they haven't done anything yet. But oh, tears are slipping down her face… why? This is something many baseline women want; why is this bad?

“How did this happen?”

“I got sick and went to the medicae… they gave me medicine and it worked, I was fine in a day, but then this happened… I feel like a grox…”

Mortarion suppresses a huff—the most humor he typically expresses—at that. It would not help. She's clearly distressed, and her distress is not something he savors. He does not want her to be upset like this, but what can he do?

“They must have had the astartes medication mixed in with the medication for baselines… I will ensure that is dealt with.”

“Thank you, Tari, but… that doesn't fix… well, this! I can't go around like this! My robes would never hide it, and everyone would make fun of me… I don't even know how long it'll last.”

Mortarion pushes down his appreciation of her newfound form; she would never want him like that. He is everything she is not. He is everything she should despise, and yet she treats him with such kindness. He will not repay that kindness with lust; with any sort of desire to… to desecrate her. Her purity. Her beauty. With his lanky, awkward, grotesque form.

He's about to start attempting to comfort her, but she sneezes. He goes to hand her a tissue, and hears her gasp. He looks over immediately, and swiftly notices the issue… her breasts are leaking, and they are leaking copiously. The sweet scent of milk hits the back of his throat, then, and he withholds a whine. He wets his lips and slicks his tongue over the jacobson's organ in the roof of his mouth, and his eyes roll back for a moment from the raw, primal, crazed lust that floods him.

What could this event be but a gift?

She starts crying anew, and he all but lunges for her; a single giant hand cupping her chin. This is more contact than he usually initiates, so she startles at having his (brilliant, beautiful) lavender eyes so close to hers. He stifles a growl; her smell is so much stronger, this close to her.

“I feel like I should curl up and die,” she whimpers, mortification evident in her voice.

It's then that she notices his staring, straight at the stain of milk on her robes. It's still dripping down… and a downright sinful idea comes to her mind. She fears to act on it, but Mortarion keeps staring and wetting his lips, not even blinking…

“Tari, I have an idea, but you probably won't like it…”

He grunts in response; ever practical. His eyes don't leave her breasts for a moment.

“Do you… are you okay with… could you… help me? With this?”

He releases a breath she hadn't realized he was holding, and meets her eyes.

“How?”

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

“There you go, just like that,” she practically purrs as he first latches his lips onto her breast. His face is bright red, now; an almost inhuman flush on his pallid skin.

He's not sure what to expect, and only scarcely more sure what to do, but he carefully sucks on her breast like she praised him for, and the first rivulet of milk hits his tongue. He almost passes out, then, and a rich, deep moan thunders from within him. She bites her lip as he looks up at her (his eyes are heavy with need), and a quiet moan flows from her like water from a hidden spring. He's not sure he could stop even if she begged him to. Somehow, this is everything he's ever wanted… no, everything he's ever needed. One of her hands comes down to pet his hair, and his eyes roll back. A high-pitched whine leaves his throat.

Minutes pass; her breast slowly lightens. Is this how mothers feel, as their child nurses? Thoughts similar to that flicker through both of their minds, as time passes. The better part of an hour is whiled away, with Mortarion suckling and kneading at the same breast. Eventually, though, the seemingly endless spring of ambrosia runs dry, and Mortarion whimpers, his face as red as a wildflower and his eyes hooded.

“Mommy… ‘s no more… Mommy, I need more, I need-” He slurs out, and her heart almost breaks, seeing her strong, proud man so desperate. She feels like she can breathe again, with one breast drained; how much better would it feel to have both emptied…?

She unzips her nightdress; freeing her other breast, and gasps. Mortarion practically throws himself against the newly available breast, but she's just stuck, mouth gaped wide, at how much larger her full breast is… what kind of stuff is in that astartes medication?

Mortarion, however, is almost completely milk drunk, at this point. Suckling like this is fulfilling some need he never knew he had. His stomach has so much more space, and every drop of milk he gets is like a taste of the finest ambrosia. His mommy beloved is petting his hair, his face is pressed against warm, plush breasts, he doesn't have to think or lead… he just wants to stay here. He kneads a little bit harder, causing a large amount of milk to flood his mouth. He moans and bucks against the floor, and oh, what is wrong with him? He shouldn't like this. He shouldn’t be thinking these things about his mommyyyy darling. But this all tastes so good… and she doesn't seem to mind. She just tells him to be gentle, if he suckles or kneads too hard.

He even smelled a different type of sweetness hit the air, when he called her mommy for the first time…

She adjusts a bit, under him; seemingly about to make him stop.

“Mommy… you taste so good. I can't stop, mommy, mommy, please don't make me stop…” and he whines it; every word practically a prayer for her to let him keep going. To not make him stop; to never make him stop. The milk entering his mouth is almost a flood, now; his mind is getting crazed with blind lust. The milk is just so plentiful. How many of their children could she feed?

He actually starts feeling full, now, but there's still more milk, and he can't stop. It's too good; he just can't. He has to drink until she's empty... and so he does.

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

With a slight pop, Mortarion releases her breast. He's panting, and his lips are almost sore from suckling for so long. He presses his face to her chest as he purrs; he's so full, and has never felt so loved. Though, that seems to be manifesting in more ways than one…

She startles; feeling him press against her foot. It's the only part of her he can reach like this. He's so hard; he feels like he'll explode. His mommy is under him… his soft, pretty, fertile mommy… his face is pressed against her breast still, though he's no longer suckling. No; now he's panting and chuffing and inhaling her scent like it's the only thing keeping him alive, all while grinding his cock against her foot.

And oh, this is getting her all bothered, now. He's so big; even with him pressed against so little of her, she can tell that much very easily. He's panting, as he grinds against her, and internally, he's going wild. With need, yes, but also embarrassment. This is so new; they hadn't even kissed yet, and now this? It's too much, but he needs it. He needs to be inside her - he needs to bury his seed as deep as it can go and not stop until he's empty.

He needs to breed her.

Mortarion picks her up in one arm, then, and begins carrying her back to his bed. It's not very comfortable (she deserves better), but it's better than the bathroom floor.

“Tari, what are you doing-”

“I need more; I need more I need more-”

He rests her down on the bed and pushes up her night dress. It's a white, flowing thing; almost like the long petals of some flower, cloistered away in a hidden garden. All for him The zipper that goes partially down the front is, of course, undone. He feels like he's committing a terrible violation, by revealing her in this new way. How could he be worthy? He could only ever defile her in the most base and disgusting ways, but… she's not fighting him. She's taking her underwear off by herself, as he hesitates to even touch her thighs. She's guiding his hands up her legs; spreading her open, and he moans as her scent hits him. She puts a hand on his head; long, white hair draping over the bed, and pulls him closer so carefully, so kindly.

Mortarion presses trembling kisses up the soft skin of her inner thigh; a single huge, skeletal hand holding it as he does. He never thought he would get this far with anyone… but now his nose is pressing against her clit, and she whimpers as he carefully, with her guidance, moves up and flicks his tongue against the tiny bundle of nerves. She jolts against his face, and his eyes grow heavy and half-lidded. He thought her milk was ambrosia enough, but now this?

He can't stop tasting her; every lick brings new beautiful sounds. She begs him to slip a finger inside her, and they both gasp, though for different reasons. Her, because even just a single finger of his is so big. Him, because she's so tight and hot and wet and… and she feels like those velvets Fulgrim won't shut up about.

“Tari… ‘s so big! ‘S just one and it's so big…” and he groans… he doesn't know how much baseline women can take, but… he knows his cock is a lot bigger than a single one of his fingers. He's seen the statistics; a single one of his fingers is longer than an average baseline man's entire cock… (He'll breed her so thoroughly)

He slips another finger in, soon after, and she whimpers. She's begging him to move his fingers in and out as he licks, and he does, and…

“Ahn- Good boy-”

He snaps his hips against the bed, and it takes all the restraint he has left to not yell. This must be bliss, because if this isn't—if being milk-drunk, hard, having his hair played with, and getting all these needy hormones shot straight into his brain—isn't bliss, then the very concept of it must be a lie. At the thought of her milk, his mouth moves up to one of her breasts; trying to see if there's any more milk for him as he fingers her. He's pleasantly surprised when a stream of it spurts into his mouth, and he suckles until she runs dry, driving his fingers deeper, spreading her open and rubbing her clit, all the while.

“Tari, please, I need you inside me! Please, please-” and he operates on instinct alone, now. Raising himself to his knees and all but ripping off his belt, he fishes his cock from within his pants and it springs into view; hard and aching, the head of it practically purple from pent up need. She spreads her legs as wide and as high as she can, and spreads her soft folds to allow him to line up easily. He almost cums then and there.

She's presenting herself for him.

Part of him still feels like he should be curling into a ball and throwing himself out of the airlock, but… he can see how he's stretched her open. He can see how she's a mess, and it's all for him. She whimpered about how she's never done any of this before, as he stuffed his second finger into her, and he felt self-directed revulsion… and incredible desire. She wants him to be her first?

He starts wheezing out gasps, as he sinks into her. His hips and thighs tremble with the effort it takes to not just slam himself balls-deep immediately; to not sink as deep as her body can take and then some. To not immediately claim her.

“Mommy… M- ah, ah… Mommy, please…”

“Don't stop, don't stop,” she whispers in response. He bites his lip as he slowly sinks deeper; tearing chunks of dead, dry skin off of his lips as he does. Her hands are on him, desperately trying to pull him closer; to take him deeper. He pulls out and pushes back in, inch by inch, and he understands why baselines kill for their partners. He bottoms out inside her—she's shaking and moaning underneath him—and his body feels like it's on fire. He's gasping for breath, as he lets her pull him down. All he can do is cage her in, now, as he testingly thrusts within her, earning a ragged moan. She's so soft. He moves so slowly, but she keeps begging him for more. For faster. For deeper. She moves her legs up, to be pressed against his chest, and he feels like he'll combust.

Oh, she's so small and sweet and fertile and he'd kill for her; he'd level cities for the crime of a citizen of them even looking at her. He'd give her a whole planet all for herself, if he could; just for her and some friends or helpers… and their babies Just him and mommy his beloved...

Plap plap plap plap

It feels like it's been hours, but the clock on the wall shows that it's so clearly only been about half an hour. Every whimper and sigh from her is like the sweetest song; he can't get enough. Her every action stokes the flames of his passion higher and higher, and he can feel an orgasm creeping up on him. He never thought he would have this… he always thought he'd only have her in his most shameful, private moments, when he has his legs thrown wide; one hand cupping his balls, heavy and full, as the other furiously works his aching cock. But somehow, here he is, and every slap of skin against skin reminds him that it's really happening.

His panting increases in pitch; his orgasm is almost here. He's fighting the urge to sheath himself within her; to defile her deepest reaches with his wretched seed, but her little hands on his thighs, desperately clawing him closer, make that prospect more and more difficult to entertain.

“Tari, cum in me! Fill me, please,” and he almost blacks out, hearing those words. She wants him. Her innermost depths, practically holy… she would invite him to fill them. His thrusting picks up speed, his panting starting to take on a whining edge.

“Ohh… Mommyyy,” he whines; a high pitch so unusual, for the normally stoic primarch, that it almost startles his lover out of her state of crazed, fuck-drunk need. “Fuck, fuck, fuck… take it, mommy, take it! Take it all, please!”

He hilts himself within her, and his head falls limp to the bed. The only sounds Mortarion can make now are panting and wheezing, as spurt after spurt of thick, sticky, and (unknown to both) fertile transhuman cum coats every crevice of her insides. He feels like it'll never end; it just keeps coming. Her hands are all over him, as she feels his almost boiling-hot seed flood her. His drool is making a puddle on the freshly-cleaned sheets; his hips twitching slightly as his orgasm winds down.

What has he done?

Suddenly, he's stiff, in her arms. He slowly lifts himself from her, watching her legs finally go slack as pressure is removed from them, earning a happy groan from the mouth of his lover. He can see some of his seed leaking out around him, and he wants to scream… he's ruined her. How could he do this to her? How could he destroy her opportunity to have a husband? A family? His putrid, cursed cum fills her, now… no one would want her, even though she's still the one who moves the stars and planets in his sky. He looks down at her; not willing to meet her eyes, and feels her shift under him, hands coming up to cradle his head.

“Tari?”

“I've soiled you… I've polluted you. I'm sorry, I should never have tried to find out what was wrong.”

She pulls herself off of him, then; cock moving easily since it's slicked by inhuman amounts of cum. A small whine leaves her, but she just grabs him and pulls him down onto the bed… with her. Holding him tightly.

“You're everything I've ever wanted, my love.”

Tags: @undeaddream

[lees-chaotic-brain]

A hopeful fan's suggestion for a fic:

Song: 'Streetfight' - Smallpools

Character: Gojo

Genre: Angst

🙃

summary: you've always been there for him, but he doesn't realize until it's too late

cw: underage drinking (like one paragraph mention), alcohol consumption (briefly in beginning), gojo's a bit of an asshole, some swearing, korean word used in a japanese dessert because idk the japanese word, self-depreciation, reader has reverse cursed technique, reader is a little pushy, blood, implied panic attack sorta, not canon compliant, major character death, gojo is a little ooc in the beginning, spoilers, angst, hurt/minimal comfort

wc: 6.4k (holy fuck)

note: hi anon. again, sorry this took so long. i'm unsure about how i feel about this, but i hope you enjoy it. this is formatted a little differently than the rest of the song fics, but i hope that's okay!! to everyone else who is awaiting a request: i promise it will get done at some point i just need to finish all of my event fics, and all my swapped extras, then i'll be back on track. thank you for being so patient with me <3

you can listen to this while reading, however the beat and tune itself is a little upbeat for the tone of this fic so i would recommend listening to it before/after reading!!

Event Guide | Event Masterlist | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation

January 9, 2018, 4:03 AM

The stale air reminds you of how deep under the surface you are, constricting your lungs. The ropes chafe at your wrists, and you’ve long since given up on staving off your boredom by counting the endless talismans covering the walls. Leaning back in the chair, you attempt to breathe. To forget that tons of earth are surrounding you, to ignore the oppressive weight of the talismans crushing your cursed energy. 

Looking back, you’re not sure when your admiration for your upperclassman had shifted from admiration and respect to something deeper. Perhaps it was the first time you noticed he wasn’t invincible. That he was human and struggled too. Or maybe it was when you shared your cheap supermarket candy with him, not expecting anything in return, only to be pleasantly surprised when he shared his expensive daifuku with you a few days later.

It could have been even later than that, when the reality of being a jujutsu sorcerer hit your little group without warning and you realized just how fragile Satoru was. But as waves of memories crash over you it was unimportant exactly when it happened. Succumbing to their pull, you sink into their peaceful blue depths, allowing the ebb and flow of the past to drag you away. 

January 1, 2006, 12:07 AM

Stumbling out of the second year’s dorm, the welcome sensation of the cold winter night washed over your flushed skin. You had counted down the new year just a few minutes ago and needed a break from taking shots with Shoko seeing as your upperclassman could outdrink you any day. 

Probably a little too tipsy to climb up to your favorite spot on top of the dorms you instead opt to take a short walk through the gardens, hoping the fresh air and sharp bite of the air would help you sober up. The silvery moonlight filters down through clouds that promise a snowy morning, barely illuminating the stone path beneath your feet.

Passing by a side path that leads to a small grassy clearing you pause, backing up. There, sprawled on his back with his blindfold removed, lay Gojo Satoru staring up at the sky. The innate beauty of the sight stuns you. His hair gleams as the moonlight highlights the pure white of his hair, and his eyes glitter, crystalline and sharp.

Your breath leaves you as you marvel at his otherworldly appearance before you approach him, laying down beside him on the frozen grass with a crisp crunch. Staring up at the navy sky scattered with stars you don’t say anything for a couple of moments.

“It’s a New Year.” You’re surprised he speaks first, but listen quietly, breath puffing in plumes of white before drifting away and disappearing. “It’s a New Year yet I’m not excited.”

Mulling over his words for a moment, you reply. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing. But do you want to talk about why?”

His hesitation is palpable so you continue. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But if you do, I promise that it’ll stay between us.”

"It's just...I’m a year closer to graduating now, and I don't want to graduate. As soon as I graduate I'll officially be the honored one. The strongest sorcerer. The one expected to protect everyone. But I don't have a domain expansion and I barely have control over my cursed technique. I don't care about what the stupid higher ups think but..."

"But?" You prompted gently, turning your head to look over at him. As if sensing you gaze, he turns his head as well, meeting your eyes.

"But I don't want to let you guys down." He looks a little embarrassed. "Suguru, You, Shoko, Nanami, Principal Yaga, and Haibara. Oh, and Utahime I guess. I really really really don't want to disappoint you."

You sigh, and he sees your expression soften. "It may not be my place to say anything, but I don't think any of us would be disappointed in you no matter what you did. The higher ups and others may see you as the honored one, but to us you're just Gojo, our fun, sometimes obnoxious, classmate."

He snorts at that and you smile, relieved that it seemed to make him feel better. "Thank you." He says sincerely. "I really appreciate it."

"O-of course!" You stammer, flustered by his gratitude. "It was nothing, really. If you ever feel like that again you can come talk to me if you'd like."

He flashes his signature smirk, but it lacks its usual cockiness. "That would be nice. I'll keep it in mind."

With an endearing mixture of ease and awkward clumsiness he climbs to his feet, brushing himself off. "Well, I'm headed back in. Maybe you should stay out here and cool off a little longer. You're looking a little red."

Winking cheekily, he disappears in the direction of the dorm leaving you lying on the grass blushing furiously. A cold prick hits the side of your face, and when you turn to look up at the sky you notice it began to snow.

And despite the frozen flurries lazily drifting down before landing on you and stealing your heat, your chest feels warm and fuzzy. Maybe next time he needs to talk to someone he will come to you. Maybe he would allow you to be there with him. Maybe next time you would have a longer conversation.

Absorbed in your maybes and hopes for the future, you had no way of knowing this was the last time he would be open and let his vulnerability show.

May 14, 2006, 3:01 PM

The mood is strange as your group of five finally enter the barrier surrounding jujutsu high. On one hand, everyone is relieved to have finally reached safety, but on the other hand…

You glance over at Riko Amanai, the lively girl you had gotten to know over the past few days. It isn’t fair. She was only a year or so younger than you and yet for some perverse reason the universe had decided that her duty was to sacrifice herself and die.

Lost in your thoughts, you vaguely hear Gojo saying something stupid about never babysitting a kid again and Riko responding indignantly. 

It isn’t fair. It isn’t fair. It isn’t fair. It isn’t- 

Schlick

The wet sound of a blade running through flesh snaps you out of your thoughts, and you slowly turn, looking to your left. A long, vicious looking blade protrudes from the center of Gojo’s chest, the dark blue fabric of his uniform slowly turning a deep purple as his blood seeps into it.

Time freezes as you struggle to process what you’re seeing. You don’t understand. You made it within the barrier. You should be safe. So how-

Your breathing quickens as you try to make yourself move. Gojo is using weird, unnecessary metaphors to explain how he managed to save himself from the stab wound and telling Geto to leave, to take Riko and go. Your body still refuses to respond. Why are you so useless? Why can’t you-

Geto yells your name. “Stay here and look after Satoru! If something happens and he gets badly hurt you’re the only one who can help him. I’m counting on you!”

With that he’s gone, leaving you with the stranger with the scar on his lower lip, and Gojo, who’s muttering under his breath about how Geto must have no faith in him, assuming he’s going to get hurt like that. He’s gone and they’re fighting and-

Blood. There’s so much blood.

The man who did this is gone, not even bothering to go after you as you pose no threat to him. But Gojo, Gojo is on the ground, lying in a rapidly expanding pool of his own blood. A strange garbled sound falls out of your mouth, and you’re scrambling towards him, scraping the skin off your knees as you kneel at his side.

One glance is enough to tell you that you don’t have the amount of reverse cursed energy or skill that you would need to save him. But you had to do something. You couldn’t just leave him to die. 

“Gojo!” You yell at him as you place your hands over the gaping hole in his throat, blood spurting out from between your fingers. “Remember when Shoko and I tried to teach you how to use reverse cursed technique? Do you remember? Can you try to help me?”

Tears stream down your face as you push energy into him, slowly knitting the muscle and tendon in his throat back together. Already you could feel the toll healing him was taking on you, and your progress was too slow.

“Gojo! If you don’t figure it out you’re going to die. Hurry up, damnit!!” You sob, hoping against all hope that a miracle will occur and he’ll figure it out before the little time you are buying him with your healing runs out and he dies. 

Just as you’re about to lose hope, to give in and accept that you aren’t good for anything, that you can’t even heal a couple of wounds and save a life, the blood seeping through your fingers slows before stopping. With bated breath you pull your hands away and reveal…nothing.

Smooth, unmarred skin greets you, no sign of the gaping wound that was there only seconds ago. A quick glance down reveals that the stab wound in his chest is gone too. You know you weren’t responsible for his rapid recovery, so that could only mean-

“Gojo?” Your voice is quiet as you tentatively wave your hand over his eyes. “You in there? I can’t believe you figured out how to use reversed cursed technique on yourself that fast! You really are insanely talented!”

He opens his eyes, and you can just tell that something is wrong. For one, any emotion or sign of the upperclassman you so cherished was gone, replaced with an empty mask, devoid of all feeling. For another, his eyes were glowing. Glowing so bright it almost hurt to look at them.

“...Gojo?” You reach for him hesitantly, but he just stares right through you, almost like he’s looking at something in the distance beyond you. Your fingers only barely brush the dirty, torn fabric of his uniform before he appears to glitch, and disappears without a word.

Sitting back on your heels, you gaze in shock at where he had been only seconds before, unable to stop the sickening feeling crawling along your insides, telling you nothing will ever be the same again. 

August 03, 2007, 11:23 am

If the death of Amanai Riko just over a year ago was your polite -albeit cold- introduction to death, then the death of Haibara Yu is an unwanted guest barging into your house and forcefully familiarizing itself with you.

Of the six members of your ragtag group of second and third years Yu was by far the best person, beloved by all. His death probably hit Kento the hardest as they were the closest, but everybody felt the hole left by his death.

In the immediate weeks after you didn’t have time to question about what happened or think about how your upperclassmen were faring. You were stuck in an endless loop of caring for Kento; convincing him to eat, making sure he takes care of himself, telling him to keep on living. Caring for him took a decent amount of your time, and the rest of it was spent having breakdowns in your room and trying to hide the fact that you were having said breakdowns. You couldn’t be falling apart. You didn’t have much worth as a jujutsu sorcerer, you couldn’t help them much in a fight, but you could be there for them as a classmate and friend. If you couldn’t you were just useless all around.

Somewhere around when it had been a month since Yu’s death, you thought of Gojo. Gojo, who had told you a little over a year and a half ago about the pressure he felt to protect everyone. To not let anyone down. And once that thought occurred to you, it hung around in the back of your mind, a constant presence reminding you that Gojo could be suffering, that he may be blaming himself for all of this and no one was there to tell him it wasn’t his fault. So one day you went looking for him.

He was a relatively predictable person, so after checking his dorm, then the common area, then the training grounds, you were almost positive he was in the garden. The very spot where he had opened up to you for the first time. And sure enough, when you had picked your way through the overgrown foliage lush with summer you found him in the same position he was then; lying on his back and gazing up at the sky.

Quietly, you make your way over to him, flopping down onto the grass beside him. Getting comfortable, you take a moment to speak, and are caught off guard when he addresses you first.

“Hey.”

He speaks, not sounding surprised to see you. Well, of course he wasn’t. He probably sensed your cursed energy as soon as you started heading in this direction. Annoying jerk.

“Hey.” Fluffy clouds drift by overhead. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.” He answers in his normal overly cheerful tone. “What about you?”

A dry laugh escapes you before you can hold it back. “Hanging in there. Are you sure you’re okay? I just wanted to check in. You know, no matter what anyone else says or what you expect of yourself you couldn’t have-”

“I told you I was fine.” He interrupts, sitting up and ruffling your hair. You protest, sitting up and batting his hands away as he just laughs. “Don’t be such a worry wart. I can see the exhaustion on your face. Go get some sleep. Seriously. You look half dead.”

“Wow, just what every girl wants to hear.” You roll your eyes. “You flatter me, Gojo.”

“I know I know.” He grins at you. “Now, I’ve got important third year duties to attend to so I’ve gotta scram. See ya!”

With that, he’s gone, vanished to who knows where. Flopping back down onto the grass, you consider taking a nap outside hoping the fresh air would do you some good. It was a beautiful day, after all, and Gojo had told you to get some rest. But every time you close your eyes, all you can see is the grin on Gojo’s face. It’s large and toothy, and if you didn’t know him as well as you did you would think it was real. 

You would think it was real, except you know him well enough to tell that behind those tinted glasses, his smile doesn’t reach his tired, bloodshot eyes.

September 28, 2008, 2:36 PM

As soon as you heard the news you went to find him, knowing that he was in pain. Following Shoko’s directions and ignoring her warnings about leaving him be. If he needed to be alone you would leave. If he needed someone to lash out at, you would sit there and take it. If he needed someone to cry on, you would offer him your shoulder.

Whatever it was that he needed in this moment, you would be that for him. But you weren’t about to let him be alone at a time like this. Not when he just lost his best friend. You knew you were no replacement for Geto, and that it was selfish of you to go looking for him if he did truly want to be alone. But on the off chance that he did need someone, you couldn’t just leave him be.

Just as Shoko said you would, you found him sitting on the stairs leading up to Jujutsu Tech. He’s manspread, his elbows propped on his knees as he gazes out at Tokyo sprawled out below. 

“What is it?” His voice is empty and monotonous, so unlike his usual cheer. “Do you need something?”

“I, uh.” You flounder, words leaving you. What were you even supposed to say? “No. I don’t need anything.”

Slowly, you make your way down the stairs until you’re only a few steps away and pause. “I just wanted to ask if you need anything.”

“If I need anything?” He parrots, scoffing. “If I need something? Yeah I need something. I need my best fucking friend that’s what I need.”

You wince, the vitriol and anger in his voice apparent. Shoko was right. He was clearly struggling and needed space. You made a mistake in coming here.

“Of course. I’m sorry for coming here, I should have just left you alone.” You start to head back up the stairs and hesitate. “Just know, if you ever need something, anything really, I’m here for you. We all are. You don’t have to shoulder this burden alone.”

Having said what you needed to, you begin the climb back up to the entrance of the school, pausing when you hear him spit your name. You turn around, waiting for him to say more.

“You seem to believe that you, Shoko, and Nanami are capable of helping me and supporting me.” He spits the words at you, and you’re stunned by the quiet rage and despair that laces them. “But you aren’t. Simply because you guys aren’t strong enough. You don’t have enough talent. You will never understand what it is like to wield the strength and power that Suguru and I do. He is the only one that can even begin to understand the burden I carry. So don’t be presumptuous to assume that you can do anything for me.”

You open your mouth, your words sticking in your throat as you struggle to find your voice. He’s right, after all. You’re weak and useless. Who were you to think that you could do anything for him? “Gojo, I-”

The chime of his phone going off interrupts you, and he pulls it out of his pocket to check it. Standing abruptly, he shoves his phone back into his pocket, not even sparing a glance back at you. “Sorry. They’ve spotted him. I’ll be leaving now.” 

And yet again, he uses his technique to warp space, disappearing before your eyes. You’re left standing there alone as the wind whips at your hair, gazing at the city that you’re sworn to protect as a jujutsu sorcerer. 

Gojo was right. Not once have you been able to help anyone. At best you’ve managed to stay out of the way, and at worst your weakness caused trouble and put others in danger. You were worthless. You stand there silently for a long time trapped in a spiral of self-loathing and helplessness before you head back to the school, retiring to your dorm.

Later that night, when you’re washing your face and getting ready for bed you look in the mirror and stop. The look on your face, the look of self-hatred and worthlessness accompanied by the deep bags under your eyes and the unhealthy pallor of your skin is strangely familiar. You suck in a breath.

That’s right. This is the expression Gojo wore when you spoke to him earlier. That’s where you had seen it before.

December 27, 2017, 11:54 PM

“Hey.”

You flick on the lights, bathing Gojo’s apartment in a warm glow. After no one had heard from him in a few days, you finally went to check on him at your students' behest. All of them expressed concern for him in one way or another, wanting to know if he was okay so you finally gave in and said you would go check on him. 

He uses the same password for everything, so guessing the pin to his apartment was easy enough, although you weren’t sure what to expect when you actually saw him. Almost ten years have passed since the last time you tried to have a real conversation with Gojo, and as the last one didn’t exactly go well you weren’t eager to approach him with the same topic.

He was sprawled on an obnoxiously large couch in the main space when you entered, blindfold draped haphazardly over his face but at the sound of your voice he startled and sat up. You frowned.

That was strange. He should have been able to sense your cursed energy from miles away. Him being caught off guard by you meant he must be really out of it. 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to surprise you.” You’re hesitant, slowly approaching him. Smiling awkwardly, you hold up the bag of daifuku (a favorite of both of you) that you picked up on your way here. “I brought sweets. You want some?”

You half expect him to tell you to get lost, so you’re surprised when you find yourself sitting beside him on the couch, silently sharing the mochi. Taking advantage of the quiet you survey his apartment, your chest aching at how empty and cold it is. It doesn’t look like anyone lives here, and you suspect this is the first time he’s spent the night here in months. You wouldn’t be surprised if you were the first person to enter this place other than him since he bought it.

“So.” You fidget with the soft treat in your hands, thick, dark red patso oozing out from the center when you squish it. “The first years are doing well. I was able to patch up Inumaki’s throat and head injury pretty easily while Ieri took care of Maki. Panda’s fine too. Yaga has him good as new. Oh, and Yuuta is closer to them than ever, I-”

“I’m assuming you didn’t just come to share daifuku with me.” He chirps, cramming another one of the sweets into his mouth whole. “I’ve seen you eat your weight in these and you threatened to castrate me the last time I tried to steal some of your daifuku. What’s up?”

“Okay first of all, that was almost a decade ago, get over it.” You shoot him a look, taking a bite of mochi. Normally the combination of the thick, sweetened patso and the stretchy, chewy glutinous rice cake was your favorite, but today it just tasted like a sticky mouthful of nothing. “Second of all I’m here because the first years are worried about you, and I am too. How are you holding up?”

“Me?” He laughs, the sound grating on you. “I’m perfectly fine. I just needed a day off to rest my eyes. I get that you all love and need me so much but can’t a man take a day off every now and again? Ah, the struggles of being important.”

“Gojo.” Your voice is quiet, but deathly serious. “Drop the act.”

“What act?” He reaches for another sweet, biting into it. The sticky smack of the rice cake separating from itself as his teeth sink into it makes you slightly nauseous. “Oh, are you talking about Geto? I’m not too torn up about it. I mean, he left what, eight, nine years ago now? He was practically a stranger at this point.”

“Then why did you tell Yuuta that he was the only friend you ever had?” When the sweet, floppy haired first year told you that you had almost started crying in front of him. “Did killing your best friend really mean nothing to you? How can you say you’re okay?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, popping another bite of daifuku into his mouth. “I dunno. But really, there’s no need for you to be so concerned. This doesn’t involve you-”

“How can you say that?!” You’re shaking, unable to hold back any longer. “You are the most selfish, self-absorbed person I have ever met! There’s no need for me to be concerned? This doesn't involve me? Did it ever occur to you that he was my friend too?”

Embarrassingly, tears blur your vision and you blink furiously to hold them back. “What about Ieri? Is this none of her business? All this time you’ve acted like you were the only one who lost him. You seem to forget that Ieri was in your year as well. That there were three of you, not two.”

The daifuku pops in your fist, sticky sweet filling smearing across your palm. Despite the white wrapping loosely draped over his eyes you knew that he wasn’t even looking at you as he calmly reached for another rice cake. That was your last straw.

You snatch the styrofoam tray away from him and hurl it against the nearest wall with all your might, unable to express your rage and hurt in any other way. The force of your throw sends bits of exploded rice cake and red bean paste flying around the room, splattering on everything. 

Silence falls over the room, and neither of you move. Then, infuriatingly, he barks out a laugh.

“You’ve gotten a lot stronger. I’m impressed. You must have worked hard.”

“Yeah, yeah I did.” You take a deep breath and make your way towards the door. Pausing with one foot outside, you look back. “Come find me when you’re ready to stop being an asshole. We’ll talk then.”

With that being said you disappear out the door, leaving him behind for the first (but not last) time. 

January 8, 2018, 12:03 PM

Absentmindedly swirling your stupidly expensive chai latte, you watch as eddies of milky foam spiral into fragrant chai. Across from you, a certain white haired man stuffs himself awkwardly into the booth, the cozy corner it’s located in not exactly tall-people friendly. 

“Did you deliberately choose the smallest booth in here?” Gojo huffs, rearranging his bunched limbs under the table. His leg presses against yours. “Long time no see. How have you been?”

“It’s been less than two weeks.” You sigh, setting down your mug and crossing your legs, severing your contact with him. “But I’ve been good.

You pointedly don’t ask how he’s been, and he doesn’t tell you, not that he would have had you asked. “I’m sorry I was an asshole. You were right.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“Is there anything else you want me to say? I don’t want to give you excuses.”

“You’re actually the biggest idiot I’ve ever met. Listen.” You lock eyes with him, holding his gaze. “While I would obviously prefer it if you just opened up to me completely, I would also be overjoyed if you gave me excuses because it would mean that you cared enough about my impression of you to try and fix it. But you have never once tried to explain yourself to me, or Ieri, or Kento. How do you think that makes us feel?”

He at least has the decency to look abashed. “I-I’m sorry. I never thought about it that way.” He clears his throat. “I never wanted to force you guys to share my burden. I realize I was wrong and that I was only making things worse by shutting you out.”

“Do you really?” Your gaze is intense, and he can’t help but admire the fire shining in the depths of your beautiful eyes. “I do. Truly. Can I…Can I talk to you about something?”

“I’ve been telling you, that’s literally all I want you to do.”

—-----------------------------------------

Hours later, you stare at Gojo’s retreating form, the warmth from his parting embrace still lingering on your body. Adrenaline is buzzing in your veins, your brain running a million miles a minute. Gojo was planning on killing the higher up. Gojo was planning to kill the higher ups. And he had trusted you enough to tell you about his plans.

Holy fuck.

Flopping onto your bed the instant you get inside, you stare up at the uneven drywall of your ceiling. Gojo is going to kill the higher ups, and when he does it will send jujutsu society spiraling. Some will support him wholly out of fear or respect. Some will attempt to put him on trial for his crimes. And some will attempt to cozy up to him in an attempt to gain power. 

Rolling over onto your side, you bend your arm and rest your head in the crook of your elbow, closing your eyes. Wouldn’t it be better if he just hired someone to kill the higher ups? No, because if they were traced back to him it would only make things worse. Honestly it would be best if he wasn’t involved at all. 

The faces of the second years and little Megumi (well, he wasn’t so little anymore) flash in your mind's eye. They need him. He’s the only one who is guaranteed to be able to protect them. He is their best chance at having a bright future.

 Mulling over your options, you briefly consider hiring assassins yourself but quickly dismiss the idea. There was no guarantee they would be able to kill the higher ups. In the last few years you were able to rise to a grade one sorcerer -and one of the more powerful ones at that- but even you wouldn’t have a chance at taking out all of them unless you caught them by surprise. 

Wait. That was it. It wasn’t guaranteed but if you plan accordingly you like your odds. Gojo had done so much for all of you over the last decade and finally it was your chance to repay him and show him that you were useful. That your training had paid off. The only problem was, he didn’t tell you when he planned to kill them. Which means if you want to make sure you get to them before he does…

You have to come up with a strategy, prepare, and take out the higher ups tonight. 

January 9, 2018, 4:54 AM

Gojo swears his heart stops beating for a few seconds as he stares at Principal Yaga in shock. “She did what?”

As his teacher speaks, Gojo is aware of the words leaving Yaga’s lips, but there is a strange disassociation between the syllables he speaks and their meaning as Gojo’s ears ring. After a few minutes of numb questions interspersed with stunned silence he understands enough of what happened and is gone.

He’s not sure how, exactly, he managed to figure out and get to where you are (Yaga must have pulled some strings) and everything is one confusing blur of gray until the door to the catacomb you’re being held in swings open. Then he sees you, bound to a chair and disheveled, the bruises marring your skin stark in the soft glow of the talismans. Yet somehow, he finds you as beautiful as ever.

“Who is-” You lift your head, and your eyes widen when you see him. “Gojo? What are you doing here?”

“Me? What am I doing here?” He shakes his head in incredulity. “Why are you here? Also, why wouldn’t I be here?”

“Because I’m basically a dead woman and associating with me will only cause you more trouble, especially after they’re done disposing of me.”

“No. Don’t say that.” He shakes his head in denial, his brow furrowed in determination. “I’m not going to let them execute you. Don’t worry I-“

“Gojo.” Your voice echoes through the chamber, and he falls silent, hair falling across his forehead and obscuring his eyes. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not!” His long legs carry him across the limited space as he paces agitatedly, anger in his voice. “How are you okay with dying? Actually, never mind. I don’t want to hear you say anything.”

Spinning, he faces you and for the first time since he entered he makes eye contact with you. His heart skips a beat when your eyes meet his, fire still blazing in the depths of your eyes despite the bone-deep weariness lining your features. It takes him a moment to find his voice.

“I’ll be back.” He interrupts, not letting you speak. “Just give me an hour, okay? Promise me that you’ll wait. Just for an hour. Promise me that you’ll still be here when I come back for you.”

Your hesitation is palpable, and in that moment he would have given anything in exchange for knowing what was occurring in your mind, your face revealing nothing. Finally you seem to come to a conclusion to whatever you were considering, and exhale loudly. 

“Okay. I promise.”

He nods jerkily, and turns, exiting the cell without saying goodbye, rationalizing that there was no need for goodbyes since he would be seeing you in an hour. As the doors swing shut, he turns around and catches a final glimpse of you, bloodstained and bound, before the door bangs shut with a finality that didn’t sit well with him.

As he shakes off the ominous sense of foreboding swirling within his chest and leaves, he has no way of knowing that in a mere fifteen minutes from that second, only a quarter of the time you promised him, the clan elders finished their meeting and sentenced you to death.

He has no way of knowing that in thirty three minutes, only a little over a half of the time you promised him, an executioner would enter the room he just left, before leaving a measly thirty seconds later, blood staining the edge of his clothes.

You promised him thirty six thousand seconds of time, but it only took less than two percent of that for your life to end in a cold, dank, room miles beneath the earth’s surface. It takes only half a minute, a fraction of a fraction of fraction of a lifetime, but in that tiny, insignificant amount of time, you leave him behind for the second, and last, time.

Present Time and a Little Past That

There’s no doubt that Itadori Yuuji is a good kid that deserves saving. Anyone with eyes and a conscience would agree. However, Gojo’s motivations for wanting to save him are a little less pure. Where he should see a fifteen year old boy, scared out of his mind and needing guidance, all he can see is you, and an opportunity to make up for his past failure.

When he first saw Yuuji, and on occasion after that, he didn't see fluffy pink hair and wide brown eyes. Instead, he sees your hair, lightly dusted with snow as you lay beside him on frost-kissed grass and your eyes, gleaming in the moonlight as you tell him the words he never knew he so desperately needed to hear.

Looking Yuuji is simultaneously so painful Gojo thinks death may be preferable, and as close to peace as he’ll ever get because even if it’s just little glimpses, he can see you again. So time and time again, he saves Yuuji’s life, and puts the futures and safety of his students above his own in an attempt to repay the insurmountable debt he owes you. 

A little less than six months later, as he lays on his back gazing at the bright blue December sky above him, he finds himself thinking about his students. Even without his lingering guilt and the responsibility he felt as the Honored One, he thinks that he still would have done everything he could to protect his students because they were good kids. 

He finds himself hoping that they will somehow find a way to triumph, and live normal, peaceful lives filled with love and joy and laughter just like they deserve. But in the final moments before his eyes drift shut he thinks of you, and hopes that wherever you are you’re happy. And maybe, just maybe, when he next opens his eyes he’ll be greeted by your smiling face, and he’ll finally get to say all the things he never got to tell you.

Little does he know that somewhere far, far, away there is a little airport. It’s a strange airport; there are no entrances, no baggage claims, no security. There is only one gate, leading to a single, unmanned plane that doesn’t have a set departure time, and a small waiting area with simple black seats.

In this area, a small group of people are gathered. There is a boy, around Yuuji’s age with dark brown hair and an animated smile, happily chattering away with another boy his age sporting a side part and an old soul that doesn’t match his physical appearance. Off to the side, a young man with deep, haunted eyes apologizes quietly to a grizzled older man, his body trembling as he cries.

The older man removes his glasses and wipes at his eyes, before patting the younger mans’ back and telling him he’s forgiven. And there, sitting on the chairs closest to the windows with a soft smile on her face, sits a girl.

A girl with eyes that burn with determination, and a self-sacrificing attitude. A girl who has so many things she wants to say, but the person she wants to say them to has yet to arrive. A girl who will wait, as many lifetimes as it takes, to see him again and tell him the words she holds deep in her heart.

In her fantasies, when they reunite he sweeps her up in his arms and holds her like he never wants to let her go again. No words are needed, and there are tears and laughter, and yes, kissing. She shows him the others. He embraces the young man with the dark eyes, and pokes fun at the old soul. Then they all go and board the plane together, heading to their final destination.

As the plane soars away into the sky in her mind's eye, something tells her to turn around. Slowly, she does, and a melancholy tinged smile stretches across her face as a familiar figure materializes in the center of the waiting area.

He may be a little early, but at last, he’s here.

general taglist: @arlerts-angel @ponderingmoonlight @hotvinimon @evemooniepeach

jjk taglist: @m0k0k0 @starlightanyaaa

gojo taglist: @pandora-ophelia-blog

thin dividers by @mikeykuns. the medium thickness ones and banner are mine :)

[wishmaker-astra]

bluh, laying here, feeling like shit, lils in a final... and get annoying thoughts

like... am i really a girl? like, not in the gender questioning way, in the like... good enough way

same thing with jirachi, and lacking humanity

am i always doomed to be a person?

shit, even stupider stuff like "am i really a fan of big boobs, or am i just immature and have latent misogyny?"

they're all horseshit questions, i know that, but fucking... you get thoughts sometimes, you know?

[turtleblogatlast]

[ cw: risk taking behavior / circumstantial self harm kinda / ignoring of injuries / self-depreciation / slight ooc-ness but for a reason! / ]

Post invasion, Leo is fine.

More than fine! He’s better than before, even. That is, if you don’t count the slightly cracked shell and still healing bones, but those are only a problem when the weather wants them to be!

Leo really is better in the ways that matter.

He’s not as cocky, not as self-centered, and overall just more heroic in general if he does say so himself.

Raph even said he was proud of Leo!

So obviously things are going well.

But.

It’s not enough.

Leo’s better, sure, but he’s still got work to do.

So - and here’s something that will probably make his brothers faint on the spot - he needs to train.

_____

His brothers do not faint, but it’s a near thing for Raph. Mikey has to fan the snapper’s face and Donnie almost brings out the smelling salts before Raph shoots back to his feet with an excited grin.

Leo’s big brother gets teary eyed soon after and envelops him in a bear hug, saying once again how proud he is that Leo is growing up.

Leo lets himself be hugged, even hugs back as fiercely as he can, because unbeknownst to Raph, this marks the end of Leo’s childhood.

He lets himself be hugged like a kid one last time, looking through the hole in Raph’s shell all the while.

_____

Leo only trains the regular way with his brothers and occasionally April and the Caseys, but most especially Raph.

But of course that’s not enough, it was never going to be.

So he goes through the motions of the stretches, the spars, the meditation, and then he leaves.

He makes sure to have his excuses ready, usually defaulting to Hueso as his go to since his brothers are easily bought off with the promise of pizza. Leo hasn’t yet found the tracker Donnie installed in him, but when he does that’ll be dealt with too! But for now, this should be good.

See, the invasion made him realize something.

It’s not about him, but it was his shortcomings that led to everything going to hell.

So he just…needs to get rid of those shortcomings.

He’s working on it, gaining fighting skill in training, but there’s more he needs to do, more skills he needs to train.

Leo watches intently as Repo Mantis swindles someone, he memorizes the sleight of hand that Hypno performs, he sneaks back into the Mystic Library and is so quiet the hush bats forget he’s there, he talks Big Mama into honing his manipulation, and he even sneaks into human hospitals and reptile veterinary clinics to get a clue on more serious injuries.

And after any of these, he heads to Run of the Mill to compete in the Maze of Death.

_____

This is his twelfth time going through the (newly remodeled and even more deadly) Maze of Death, and would be his fifth time winning. The first three times had him waking up in Hueso’s office, and each time he wakes his old persona shines through.

He always waves off Hueso’s annoyance and questions and insists on trying again next time before he steals some pizza and bails.

The skeleton actively tries to stop him from entering the Maze after the first time, but hey- mystics are allowed before you enter.

It’s easy enough to teleport on by.

Harder to meet Hueso’s - and later his brothers’ - eyes when he fails again.

When he first actually won, Hueso congratulates him in that typical deadpan tone of his.

“Ah, felicidades, Pepino. Now you can move on, sí?”

“Hm? Nah, boneman! That run was sloppy!”

And then Leo runs off before Hueso can stop him.

He doesn’t even look at his picture on the champion wall when he next comes around. It’s not much to look at anyway.

_____

His second win is much like the first, and only his third win is actually acceptable.

But he knows the field too much now. He needs a challenge.

When he attempts to go through it blindfolded, he’s quickly shown how much he doesn’t know the Maze. So, obviously, he loses again.

He got a bit more banged up that time around.

“Pepino, basta ya, you’ve already won. Where are your brothers?”

“I can’t stop yet, señor! This is for my brothers - no les digas, please.”

Even if Hueso wanted to tell Leo’s brothers, they haven’t been in enough for him to get to, and it’s not like Hueso has their number since Leo’s the one Hueso usually contacts. For now, Leo’s safe to continue as is.

Though his injuries are getting harder to hide, and there’s only so much his shell in particular can take.

So to speed things up, he incorporates the blindfold into his regular training.

His brothers question it, of course, but hey, he initially got the idea from seeing Lou Jitsu do it in the third best Lou Jitsu movie, so it comes as a great excuse now.

He’s only a little put off by how fast Mikey adapts to it when the others try.

“I dunno-“ Mikey shrugs when asked, “You guys shine so brightly anyway, a mask doesn’t do much.”

Seeing their mystic energies is pretty cool, Leo can admit.

He just wishes he could grasp that himself - and that it was useful for a death maze.

_____

Leo’s training pulls off eventually, and soon, after a few more losses, he wins a forth time. But it’s a near loss, and a near loss is the difference between someone living and dying.

He’s gotta go again.

Hueso’s more insistent than ever, though.

“You must stop, Pepino.”

“But I can do better-“

“You don’t have to! Your shell is bleeding - ¡por tu propio bien, poner fin a esto!”

“I told you, this is for their own good! For everyone’s own good!”

He forgets the pizzas when he leaves. He claims sickness when he hides under his covers.

He ignores how childish the act makes him feel.

_____

Leo’s getting better, and his reflexes and tact in training shows this. His other training of his subterfuge and medical skills also prove to be useful.

He’s pretty good at hiding injuries, now! Though not so good at hiding a pained shell. Even Donnie looks at him with blatant concern (and understanding) when Leo can’t help but take a sharp breath whenever he lands on his back.

It’s hard not to go right back into waving everything off with jokes like he used to. Deflections are easier when they’re annoying!

But- this is just another reason that he needs to get better, right? So his brothers won’t worry. He doesn’t need the spotlight anymore - he’s over that, thanks.

He squashes down the part of him that perks up when Splinter says he’s growing up. He actively kills the part of himself that cries at the same phrase.

_____

So. Yeah. This’ll be his twelfth time running the Maze. And, hopefully, his fifth win. Maybe he really will move on after this.

The Hidden City is pretty big! There’s probably a bigger challenge somewhere.

Maybe Big Mama has a more secret Nexus hidden away, out of the public eye.

Well, whatever. That’s a future problem for him to figure out, yeah? For now, he carries on like usual, teleporting to the entrance of the Maze and diving right in.

Even blindfolded, he works his way through, dodging and weaving and feeling as he goes. He even tries to evoke his inner Mikey and calls on his mystic energy. Not enough to cheat, but enough to feel.

Usually, when Leo teleports, he swears he feels every part of himself disperse into particles. Now, with energy thrumming under his scales, he can feel particles everywhere.

It’s not refined enough to tell him everything, and he gets a fun new burn and a nice whack to the back by getting distracted. Still, it gives him more than he had before. It makes him more aware of everything, like he licked a finger and held it in the air to feel the direction of wind, but every direction blew wind, all in different ways.

He makes it to the end with minimal injuries after that, and sure, his shell is screaming at him now, but he thinks he did a shell of a good job.

…Ah, he needs to cut that out, huh? Man. Maybe Donnie’s collar idea was a good call after all.

Leo needs to be a hero. Not a face man. Not a failure.

Not a kid.

_____

Leo doesn’t smile when the Minotaur takes his picture again for the champion wall, and he doesn’t listen when she tells him to “go home and never come back.”

He doesn’t plan to, anyway, yeesh.

He’s tired as he trudges out of the exit, and Hueso catches him when he stumbles.

Hueso doesn’t say anything. Leo doesn’t either.

Or, he doesn’t, until he feels a familiar large hand helping him up as well.

Leo’s face whips up as he flinches back, eyes wide as they meet with a worried (so, so worried) Raph’s.

“You told them?” Leo asks Hueso in betrayal, heart thudding wildly in his chest.

“Pepino…”

“Told us what?” Mikey pipes up from behind Raph, coming closer to get a better look at Leo, “Leo, what’s going on?”

“Your shell has been having pretty big setbacks on its healing, is this why?” Donnie demands, glaring fiercely as he motions toward the Maze.

Leo feels unmoored. “I-“

“Leo.” Raph interrupts, and no Leo doesn’t want to hear it- “Are you okay?”

And Leo wants to say “it’s not about me”. He wants to say anything that proved he learned his lesson, that he’s not a liability or worse, an active danger to his own family.

He wants Raph to continue being proud of him. He wants his brothers to trust him.

Instead, he passes out.

_____

The next time his eyes open, Leo’s on his side, staring at his blue lava lamp.

He knows without looking that his shell is re-bandaged. He knows his other injuries have been dealt with too.

And unless Leo learned how to do some pretty impressive medical sleepwalking, he knows he’s not getting away this time.

All three of his brothers being in his room prove that.

“What’s been going on, Leo?” Mikey asks, and his voice cracks partway through.

He’s looking at Leo like he’s searching for something, but Leo doesn’t have anything to show. Nothing’s hidden, he just did some light spring cleaning is all, throwing out all the parts he didn’t need.

All the parts they didn’t need.

And yet despite everything, he can feel himself falling back into old ways, a grin tugging at his beak and lackadaisical deflection on the tip of his tongue.

Maybe he should let that part of him show, just for once. It wouldn’t seem like too much of a setback would it? And he could really use a fun pun right about now-

No.

No it’s not about him. He needs to remember why he did all this in the first place.

“Okay- sorry, guys.” He smiles, softly, quietly, “I guess I got too caught up in training. I’ll work at it some more, don’t worry.”

“Oh, I see. Training. That’s all it was, huh? Training.” Donnie hisses more than says, nearly vibrating in anger.

“…yeah?” Leo nods slowly, because, uh, that’s literally the most honest thing he said. It was training.

“If it’s just “training” then why the secrecy, hm? Why in Curie’s good name did you prefer to sneak around rather than, oh, I don’t know, tell your family?”

Leo feels his shoulders rise at Donnie’s aggression, defensiveness welling up in him, “It was my training! Nothing went wrong, I’m getting better!”

“Better?” Raph asks incredulously, “Leo, you’re wasting away. A tap to the shell stuns you for minutes, you lost weight, and your dark circles are worse than Raph’s ever seen them! You aren’t getting better-!”

“YES I AM!”

The words rip out of Leo before he can stop them.

The room is silent as his brother look at him, all wearing expressions of hurt that Leo put there again.

“Yes I am.” Leo reiterates, shaking, “Because- if I’m not-“ He squeezes his eyes shut. “If I’m not-“

Then what was all this for?

Arms slowly wrap around him, and he knows now from the feel of the mystic that it’s Mikey.

“You’ve gotten faster, and sneakier.” Mikey says quietly. “When I accidentally cut my hand, you knew exactly how to take care of it.” His voice grows firm, and he backs out of the hug, “But those are your skills. You, though, you’ve been…you’ve been…”

“You’ve been dilapidating before our very eyes, and trying to hide it.” Donnie finishes, jaw tight. “You think we wouldn’t notice? After everything?” To Leo’s horror, Donnie’s voice is hoarse with tears, “You absolute dumb dumb.”

“I- but I need to train. The Maze is-“

“Leo, we don’t care that you ran through the Maze. We care you did it alone.” Raph says quietly. “We could have joined you, any time.”

“But- but I’m doing this for you-“

“Listen to your brothers, Blue.” They jump as a new voice joins the fray, heads turning to see Splinter make his way into the - frankly crowded - room.

“Dad, I-“ Leo begins, but trails off, suddenly more unsure than ever in the face of his father.

“It’s good you’re finally picking up training! Especially for your brothers’ sakes! But there’s such a thing as going overboard, you know.” Splinter pokes a sharp claw into Leo’s plastron, “Just because you’re dragging it out this time, doesn’t make this any less of a sacrifice. My son, you’ve taken after Karai an awful lot, haven’t you?”

Leo just looks at his father. At his brothers. Then, he looks down at his calloused hands, bandaged and scarred from overuse.

He swallows dryly. “Is that a bad thing?”

He feels his family crowd in around him, feels his father’s hand on his shoulder.

“It’s not wrong to want to be better, Leonardo.” Splinter says, softly and with so much grief and guilt that Leo can never begin to understand, “But you were never bad to begin with.”

Leo’s breath hitches.

“And-” Splinter’s hands rise up to frame Leo’s face. “You are much too young to ever consider sacrifice the best answer.”

“You got me to relax, Leo. So I’ll do the same for you.” Raph grins, eyes wet, “We’re still kids, right?”

And-

Leo smiles, watery but genuine. “Yeah, Raph. We are.”

[nyx-umbrakinesis]

(VoxTek prompt of the week)

CW: Severe self depreciation, wishing to not exist (Reader) (unaliving mentions), mental health issues, angst, hurt, comfort.... Read at your own risk

Alastor x Reader

Alastor returns home from work and jovially calls out to you.

Alastor: "Darling, you'll never guess what happened today at the station... Are you there Dear? Is dinner done?"

Alastor walks into the kitchen to see you just standing with your back to him, he tilts his head in mild confusion but passes it off as you playing some sort of game. Seeing the pots and pans still on the stove unused.

Alastor: "Ah, looks like you've been too busy to cook up something delectable for us just yet, hmm?"

He takes off his jacket and tosses it over a chair before sauntering over to stand behind you.

Alastor: "I hope you're not planning on serving us cold leftovers, because I have a ravenous appetite. And I need it to be thoroughly sated, we're both going to require a lot of energy tonight!"

Alastor gently strokes your arms, feeling the softness of your skin beneath the fabric and rests his chin atop your head cheekily.

Alastor frowns when he feels tremors running through your frame, his usual smile dropping as soon as he hears the little sniffles escaping you from behind your hands covering your face.

Now alert to your distress, he rubs your arms, his heart racing utterly... Frightened, his mind racing of what could be wrong, he wasn't gone long, has someone hurt you... Or worse...

Alastor: "Oh, sweetheart, what's wrong? Did I worry you? I didn't mean to overwhelm you, we can have whatever you want for dinner, hell I'll make it myself. Please, little bird, let me see your face, are you okay?"

His gentle, warm hands guide you, you put up no resistance as he turns you around to face him, his expression soft with concern.

Alastor: "Tell me what's bothering you. Did someone harm you? Did I do something? We can work through this together? I'm here for you, no matter what, Dear, please just talk to me."

Alastor leans in closer, his warm breath caressing your cheek making it easy for your comfort if you would struggle with volume given that your sniffling and tears started to increase, his stomach dropping, eyes darting side to side as his face pales.

You: "I don't want to be here anymore... I wish I'd never been born..."

The whisper is deafening to Alastor, tears flooding down your face and your trembling increases exponentially, legs going so weak they buckle below you and you close your eyes, expecting the unforgiving pain of the hard floor meeting your already pained bones.

Alastor's heart clenches at the utter despair in your voice. His strong arms wrapping around you swiftly as he notices you wavering, pulling you close against his chest, stricken with fear and panic at what to do, how to help, he buried his nose in your hair, inhaling the comforting scent of you, counting to five in his head and just feeling your soft body in his arms, your warmth, his heart breaking. How could you be feeling this way, that you'd want to leave him like that, is he not good enough? Is he so awful, you hate life so much you'd wish for the empty void of non existence?

Alastor: "Oh, Dove, please don't say that. You are so precious to me, and I can't imagine life without you."

Tears betray his own eyes for one of the few times in memory. He rocks you gently, stroking your hair as he tries to soothe your anguish, wanting to fix this, to get to the bottom of it, to rip out his own fucking guts that you don't feel like life is worth living with him.

Alastor: "We all have dark moments, but they pass. You're stronger than you realize. Just hold on to me, and let's get through this together."

Gazing down at your tear-streaked face, he tenderly tries to wipe away your tears with his thumb, his own eyes shimmering with his own agony, confusion and empathy. Desperate to fix things he can't stop talking.

Alastor: "I know things are tough right now, but please believe me when I say that I love you, flaws and all. Every part of you is perfect in my eyes. You're beautiful, inside and out." Kissing the top of your head.

Alastor: "Come on, let's sit down and talk about this. I'm here to listen and help however I can. We'll figure things out, I promise, I'm not going anywhere, you're not alone and never will be, Darling."

You: "I'm useless and pathetic..." Is all you manage to mumble out, lost in a whirlwind of your own self hatred, thoughts centering around memories of failure, regret and defeat.

Alastor's expression hardens slightly at your self-deprecating words, a flicker of outrage sparking within him.

Alastor: "Useless and pathetic? How dare you speak about yourself that way! How dare you insult the most amazing being I've ever laid eyes on, the one I love with all my soul."

His voice is low and intense, grip tensing around you, he practically growls in your ear.

Alastor: "You listen to me, little bird. You are so much more than those vile thoughts. You are kind, compassionate, and incredibly resilient. The fact that you're struggling with your emotions only proves how deeply you feel, and that is a rare and precious quality. One I find even I cannot match, but I can certainly admire and appreciate how lucky I am to have someone as wonderful as you in my life."

Alastor cups your face in his hands, forcing your to meet his gaze.

Alastor: "You are loved, cherished, and valued beyond measure. By me, certainly, but also by anyone who knows you, the real you, anyone worth anything would be able to see how wonderful you are. So cut out this self-loathing nonsense right now, you're mine and I would never choose someone who wasn't utter perfection!"

Leaning in, he captures your lips in a powerful kiss, pouring all his affection, fear and adoration into the embrace.

Alastor: "You are not worthless, my Darling. You are extraordinary, and don't you ever forget it."

Stubborn as ever however, even panting and with flushed cheeks you allow your thoughts to win out...

You: "I'm lazy... Bone idle, so fat it's just going to all get worse. I make excuses and lie to people I am afraid of, I don't do anything I'm supposed to do and it hurts the people around me who deserve better I'm a piece of shit, a bad person, I can't do anything right... Anything I'm supposed to... I-"

Alastor's eyes narrow, his jaw clenching as he listens to your litany of self-beratement. Before you finish, he pulls back slightly, his grip on your face gentle but firm.

Alastor: "Enough. That is enough of this toxic self-talk, Dearest. It's time someone told you the truth - you are not lazy, you're exhausted from carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. You are NOT bone idle, you're overwhelmed and burnt out."

He takes a deep breath, choosing his next words carefully, holding you firm.

Alastor: "Your size does not define your worth, nor does it dictate your abilities. You are capable of so much more than you give yourself credit for and even if you struggle we can do it together. And those excuses and lies? They're just coping mechanisms born from fear and insecurity, a lifetime of mistreatment."

Tilting your chin up, he searches your gaze intently, warm brown eyes piercing your soul.

Alastor: "You are not a piece of shit, my love. You're a complex, multifaceted individual struggling with demons most people can't even fathom. And you know what? That makes you brave, not flawed."

Leaning in once more, he presses a soft, reassuring kiss to your forehead. Wiping more and more tears from the whimpering mess in his arms.

Alastor: "You are not a bad person, and you don't need to do everything right. All you need to do is be true to yourself and keep moving forward, one step at a time. I'll be right here beside you, supporting you every inch of the way, you are still here and that's what I need, and I'm selfish so you aren't going anywhere without me."

An unexpected bubble of laughter escapes your throat taking you by surprise and Alastor's smile returns to his face, fondly brushing your hair away from your eyes. His expression pleading as he gazes at you, his eyes filled with warmth and understanding.

Alastor: "My little Doe, you're not alone in this fight. I'm here to help you, to support you, to love you unconditionally. No matter what challenges you face, know that you always have a safe haven in me."

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your skin.

Alastor: "We'll take things one day at a time, okay? There's no pressure, no expectations. Just focus on getting through each moment, and leave the rest to me."

Smiling encouragingly, he reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers.

Alastor: "You're strong. Stronger than you realize. And with me by your side, well of course you can overcome anything that comes your way, haha!"

Giving your hand a gentle squeeze, he leans in to whisper in your ear, shivers running through your frame. Hot breath caressing the shell.

Alastor: "Now, why don't we order some takeout? I'm starving, and I think we both could use an indulgence. Oh and Darling do get presentable again, you look utterly obscene and if you don't put that smile back on your face, I'll find another way to do so myself."

As he tightens his hold on you to hold you together, his shirt utterly ruined by your tears and snot, you can't help but be filled with so much love for the man who you feel you never deserved... But won't let you balance the check so to speak, your own arms finally wrap around him in return.

Alastor: "You're mine, no refunds!"

A/N the presentable quip was a direct reference to his 'You're never fully dressed without a smile' quote, not a comment on how you look when crying.

[eddiesxangel]

Give Me Everything | E.M x PlusSize!Reader

Anonymous requested: I was wondering if you could do a story on a plus size best friend reader.. who was asked out by a jock on a dare or who Eddie walks into her room to see her sitting on the floor upset because her favourite dress is getting tight.. and he shows her how much he loves her body even if she can't see it... Maybe with like a praise/breeding kink.. or whatever you want to do 😁🫠👉👈 Recently went through a weight gain, and I'm so hard on myself.

AN: As a plus-size girly myself, I got you bbg. 😚

CW: bestfrined!Eddie x f!reader, self-loathing, self-depreciation, weight gain, body image, Eddie is a big ol' simp, soft dom, praise, oral, p in v, breeding kink, creampies, Pet names (baby, babe, pretty girl etc.)

wc: 3k

When the former basketball team captain ran into you at the local bar and asked you out, you were hesitant to say yes.

Your body never bothered you…until it did. The perks, your tits never looked better; the downside was you felt big. You’re still getting used to this new body, the body that you didn’t like.

Maybe your favourite dress would be the thing to help. So you dug into the depths of your closet. It has been a while since you’ve even attempted to put it on. The summer months were finally here; you could use this pick-me-up.

You stepped into the A-line skirt. So far, so good. When you tried to bring the straps up, things took a turn. It felt so tight; it dug into your soft flesh, your skin popped out around the straps, and the buttons in the front weren’t even close enough together to do up. You turn to see the taught fabric surrounding your back, all lumpy with back rolls.

Silent tears start to shed as you look at yourself in the full-length mirror. You never even heard the knock on your door or the lock click when your best friend entered your home with his copy of the key. You didn’t see how Eddie’s face dropped when he saw you criticizing every inch of your body. The way his heart broke when he saw your tear-stained cheeks in the reflection of the mirror.

Eddie knew you had a date. He came for moral support and to maybe convince you not to go for his own personal reasons.

He was shocked when you revealed the name of the guy who had asked you out. Jason Carver. Number one douchebag of class of ‘87. He thought you were joking, but you didn’t grow up in Hawkins; you moved here after college. No way you would have known the country club- bible-thumping moron was his arch-nemesis all those years ago.

“Y/N”

You jumped when the soft whisper of Eddie’s voice filled the room.

“Eddie, I didn’t hear you come in.” You quickly try to wipe away the tears, embarrassed that he saw you like this, looking like this.

You quickly grab your oversized t-shirt and pull it over your head to cover up your shame.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You’re quick to reply.

“Don’t do that, you always do that. Tell me what’s wrong.” He gently takes your hand and pulls you to the bed.

“It’s so embarrassing.” Your voice cracks, and you want to die.

“It’s me we are talking about, babe; nothing you can do is embarrassing.”

Eddie was right; you shared everything. He knew all of your deepest, darkest secrets. All of them, but this one.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself before speaking.

“I’m no model, I’m not the size I use…” You look down, and you are not able to finish your sentence. It hurt too much to say out loud. "Nothing fits me anymore." You mumble.

“What?” He stroked the back of your head, trying to calm you.

“Nothing fits me anymore!” You break.

“So we will buy new clothes.”

“That’s not-ugh. You don’t get it,” he would never understand.

“Then tell me.”

“I never used to be like this.” You gestured to yourself.

“Like what?”

“Big!”

“You’re not big”

“Eddie… stop. I am… I just wanted to put on my favourite dress to feel better about myself, but now it doesn’t fit me anymore.” You sniffle.

“Y/N.” your name fell off of Eddie’s lips-laced with such sorrow.

“And now I have to find something to wear for this date in two hours, and I have nothing. I don’t even know if I like the guy, but he’s the first one who asked me out in a year, and I just wanted to feel pretty… to feel wanted... desired.”

“You are pretty; you are beautiful.”

“You’re just saying that.” your mouth speaks, but you can't ignore the butterflies that come with those words.

“No,” he shook his head. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.” Eddie poured his heart out.

“You have to say that- you’re just trying to make me feel better.

“I’m really not, and if Jason doesn’t see that, then he doesn’t deserve to go out with you.” He shuffled closer to you. “That guy is a fucking loser! Peaked in high school. It’s killing me that you agreed to go out with him.”

“Maybe that’s what I deserve…”

“What?”

"If he is the only kind of guy that wants me it's what I deserve."

"Don't you dare say that," Eddie cups your face to force you to make eye contact.

"Why on earth would you think so little of yourself?"

"Because... no one wants the big girl." your eyes glazed with tears once again.

Eddie knew he fucked up by not telling you his feelings earlier on, but he was scared.

"Let me show you how beautiful you are. Please."

"What?"

"I can't watch you go on this date without letting you know that it should have been me to ask you first. I was scared of what it would do to us, but I like you; I like you more than a friend should. I think about you all the time, and I want to show you how much you mean to me. I want you to understand that your body is the most perfect thing I have ever seen.

"Eddie I-"

"Please"

"O-okay."

Eddie crashes his lips into yours. Nothing about this is sweet. It is primal and needy, like he can finally drink you in after weeks of thirst. His hand travels to the back of your head and gently lays you back on the bed. His body is hovering over yours as your fingers tangle in his hair. He tastes like spearmint gum and cigarettes. You breathe in his woodsy cologne, giving you a head rush.

His kisses become more gentle, more calculated as the both of you begin to mould into one. Curious hands travelled under your skirt as he felt the soft skin of your thigh, bringing it up so he could get closer.

The skirt of the dress you still had on fell, exposing more of your leg, and Eddie couldn't resist taking a peek.

He rose, and you let out a soft moan at the loss of contact.

"It's okay, baby. I just needed to see you. How beautiful you are spread open for me."

That made you flush. Never have you seen this side of Eddie before. Only in your wildest fantasies could you dream of these words being spoken from his mouth.

the self-consciousness quickly set in as you needed to close your legs, but Eddie's strong hand found the meat of your inner thoughts and pried them open with ease.

"No baby, I need you to be a good girl, and keep these open. Do you think you can do that for me?" He leaned in and gently kissed your inner thigh, another part of you you've been particularly loathing lately.

"i don't know" IT was so overwhelming.

"We don't have to keep going if you don't want to... But I would be honoured if you let me have you this way." It would be the highest compliment, the most trust you put into a man.

"I want to, but im nervous." You've not shown anyone your body since the weight gain; you never wanted to. But something about Eddie made you feel safe and wanted.

"we will go slow. I want to savour every second." He smirked and you couldn't help but cover your face. Why was he making you feel so giddy?

"No, no. I need to see you, pretty girl." Eddie's rough fingers intertwined with yours as he peeled your hands away from your face.

"You can't say things like that to me!" you squeak.

"Why? dose it make your pussy feel all tingly?"

"Eddie!"

"Oh, I bet it does; you like me talking you up? Good, because so do I." His lips latched on yours once again, and his tongue made its way into your mouth before he pulled away to kiss his way down your neck until your shirt got in the way.

"Take it off." His hands slid underneath, feeling the fabric of the tight dress bunched up around your middle. This was another barrier he would need to convince you to get rid of.

"Eddie..."

"Please? I want to make you feel good." His hands inched up further and further towards your breasts.

You close your eyes and let out a deep sigh before nodding in agreement. Your hands find the hem of your shirt before slowly peeing it off, exposing your lacy bra.

"Fuck" You hear Eddie exhale above you.

When you slowly open your eyes, you see a man above you, full of lust and primal desire. A man to whom you thought never to be attracted to you, yet here he is, ready to devour you like you're his last meal.

"You're so fucking perfect." He reaches to grope you, not able to resist not touching your chest.

He can feel your pebbled nipples through the thin blue lace that hardly concealed anything. The thought that Jason was the one who might have gotten to see this instead of him drove him mad with jealousy.

You swore you heard him mumble the word 'mine' before leaning in to kiss your skin right above where the bra lay on your breast. His plump lips were so soft on your skin as his kisses turned into licks and nips through the fabric. His hands cupped and squeezed your tits as you watched him become a man possessed.

You arched your back up into Eddie as he fondled you; you can also feel how hard Eddie is becoming against your thigh.

You moaned his name, and that only made Eddie need you more.

“Do you know how badly I’ve wanted to taste you, baby?”

“No,” your breath is sharp and shocked.

“No?” He cocks his head, “Well, I need to get better at showing you just how much I need you.” He takes your hand and guides it to his jeans, where his cock is strained beneath.

Your eyes widen as you feel the stiff outline before you reach up to kiss him, but he pulls away, making his way down your body as he pulls down your dress, leaving you in only your matching panties and bra.

Your hands instinctively cover your stomach, but Eddie beats you to it, catching your hands mid-air and tilting his head.

“I don’t think so, baby; it’s just me.” He guides your hands to rest beside your body before he tentatively moves his own hands to your inner thighs.

“You trust me?” He continued.

You can’t form words; the only thing you can do is nod your head dumbly. No one had made you feel so desired, wanted... needed.

“Good girl”

Eddie finds his own hands pushing your legs open as far as they can go so he can see the wet patch that has formed in the gusset of your panties. A knowing smirk breaches his face as he leans forward to lay a gentle kiss on your covered pussy lips before taking a deep breath in. Your scent filled his nostrils, making you squeak with embarrassment.

“Eddie!”

“Can’t help myself, you smell so delicious…. Can’t wait to taste you.” He hooks a finger in your panties to move them to the side.

“So pretty,” he whispered into your lower lips before leaning a long wet kiss to your clit.

“Oh god!” You cry, arching your back into him as he makes out with your pussy.

“Tastes even better than you smell, baby.”

His tongue licks a long, drawn-out strip from your home to your clit, making you even wetter than before.

A mix of Eddie’s saliva and your slick coat on your inner thighs as he ravished you. The way his lips and tongue worked your clit and folds was head spinning.

“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!” You cry as your orgasm crashes into you like a tidal wave.

Your body shakes beneath your best friend don’t let go until he’s consumed all of you.

“Holy shit,” you catch your breath. No other words came to mind as your blissed-out state takes over all of you.

“You did such a good job f’me” he mumbled into your pussy before pulling back.

You see his shiny lips and chin break into a smile as he crawls back up your body to kiss you. You pull him down into you, and his body weight feels so good on top of you. You need more; you need to be closer.

“More,” you say into the kiss.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’m not even close to being done with you.”

“Eddie, please.” You whine, hardly recognizing your own voice. You’re so full of want and need for Eddie. He is the only thing you can focus on.

“Patients, baby,” he leans back to remove his clothes.

First came his shirt and then his belt; you watched as his ring-clad fingers skilfully undid the intricate lock of the belt buckle and teased you as he slowly undid his pants.

Your hands travelled up your chest, and you played with your nipples to entice Eddie to move faster, but he was savouring the moment. He wasn’t going to give in to your tricks; he had been waiting too long for this moment to not make it last.

"You're so pretty spread out like this, just for me."

“I want you so bad,” you moan as his boxers finally are tugged from his waist, and what you’ve wanted the most is sprung free. “I need you.”

“You have me, all of me.” Another feverish kiss was taken, and you couldn’t help but grind your bare hips into his own.

“No more waiting.”

“No more waiting baby, I have you.” You feel him rock the warm head of his cock through your cum soaked folds back and forth collecting your slick so he can slide into you with ease.

“Baby please.” You beg.

“What about protection?”

“No condom” you shake your head.

“No? You want me to fill this pretty little pussy? Claim you? Breed you? Make you mine?”

“Yes” you plead with a hint of desperation in your voice. The glint behind your eyes was too much for Eddie to say no.

“You want to be mine?”

“So bad, Eddie. Please, I want to be yours. I’ll give you everything, please.”

“Such a good girl. I like it when you tell me what you want.” He stroked the side of your face before cupping it to take you into a long kiss as his cock penetrated your leaking hole.

Another muffled moan from the both of you filled the room as his cock stretched your inner walls. Never had you had someone this big before; it's been a little over a year since you’ve had sex with a man. You don’t remember why you’ve waited this long. All thoughts about body image and self-hatred melted away with each brush of his cock.

“Fucking pussy is so tight.” He gritted through his teeth, trying not to spill his load into you already. Eddie swore he died and this was heaven. Your pussy was heaven on earth; nothing ever felt this good, not anyone, not anything.

“Faster.” Your hips matched his rhythm as you ground down onto his cock.

"You sure you can handle it, baby?"

"Yes!"

Lewd sounds of wet skin slapping filled the empty space of your bedroom. Cries of pleasure and touches of wanting filled the space and one another minds as the two of you couldn't get enough.

"Love how needy you are for me. Just can't resist my cock can you baby?"

unintelligible left your lips as Eddie rocked furiously into you.

"Anwer me, baby, or I'll stop. You were doing so good before."

"Yes! I want your cock." you cried.

"I'm so proud of you; you're taking me so well. Who's my beautiful girl?"

"m-me," you stutter as his cock brushes your spot.

"Fuck youre so beauiful. You're going to be even more beautiful after you're filled with my cum. You want hat baby? Want my load inside of you?"

"Yes!" your fingers dig into the flesh of Eddies back, leaving raised red scratches in their wake.

"Please- wanna cum so bad." you breath

"Fuck yes, baby, claim me. Make me yours cum on my cock."

It didn't take much longer as Eddie began to play with your swollen bud of nerves before you were falling apart all over again. A silent scream, your jaw hung lax as the sound gets caught in your throat, and another tidal wave, this one bigger than the last, washed over your whole body as his cock and fingers continued to work your needy pussy.

Eddie watched your fucked out state feeling so satisfied with himself. "Fuck that's my girl, squeezing me so fucking good." You feel Eddie jerk one last time before he spills everything inside of you. "Fucking take it."

You snap out of it when you feel the weight of Eddie collapses on top of you. You let out a giggle in your blissed-out state.

"Something funny, pretty girl?"

"No-no, everything is perfect. Thank you, Eddie." You brushed his swaety hair off his perspiering face.

"No baby, I think I need to be thanking you. Never has anyone let me fuck them like that."

"Never?" You shy away, realizing what youve asked of him.

"Don't worry. You're the only one I've ever wanted to do that with. I think you unlocked something inside of me." He kissed the corner of your mouth.

"Yea, I like you... a lot. If that's not obvious."

"I like you too, Eddie."

"I sure hope so you let me cum in you." He snorted.

"God, you're so vulgar."

"Yea, but you like it. "

"I do."

[cosmicgalaxy64]

Cw for self depreciation in the drawing (not a vent to clarify)

Drew this drawing of an oc of mine