#going all in with him & having no regrets. feeding that sickness because they SHARE IT.

[designedparadigm]

   simon  in  love  is  nothing  but  a  sick  dog.  love  is  something  that  breaks  him  down,  it  cracks  him  open,  it  makes  him  bleed  on  his  knees  for  someone  else.  he's  rotten  through  to  his  very  marrow  -  an  infection  he'd  so  willingly  spread  to  someone  else,  taint  them,  drag  them  down  with  him.  deep  into  the  darkest  pits  he  knows  so  well.  he's  never  going  to  be  fixed;  he's  broken  and  he's  broken  forever.  to  take  him  is  to  take  him  in  the  pieces  he  comes  in  and  love  him  anyway.  it's  something  he's  been  thirsting  and  hungering  for  his  whole  life.  he  had  that  with  his  family,  the  unconditional  care  -  and  had  it  ripped  away.  it's  left  him  more  sick  than  it  did  anything  else.  gaping  open  chest  wound  that  forever  weeps.  god  knows  he's  so  fucking  sick.  sick  for  craving  it,  sick  for  needing  it,  sick  for  caging  that  part  of  himself  away.  as  if  by  creating  a  beast  hungry  for  blood  he  could  hold  back  the  longing  and  the  undying  need.  it's  the  desperate  need  to  crack  open  someone's  ribs  and  unfurl  in  their  chest.  to  find  a  home,  to  quiet  the  ache.  it  will  never  be  normal.  he  will  never  be  normal.  sick,  degenerate  freak.  he  needs  his  jaws  around  someone's  throat  -  and  he  needs  them  to  need  him  just  as  much.  a  sick  and  twisted  codependency  -  something  so  wrong  but  something  that  holds  him  together.  a  reason  for  him  to  wake  up  and  a  reason  for  his  partner  to  wake  up.   they  need  to  understand  it.  they  need  to  be  just  as  fucking  sick  as  he  is.

[me-amora]

The tragedy of Lady of Autumn's character

The Lady of Autumn is a very tragic character that holds her pain close to her heart for no one to see.

This woman truly has lost almost everything. She has lost her freedom. She is abused.

First she lost her family. She lost her sisters who must have been dear to her. Then she lost her freedom and autonomy by being sold into marriage to a cold older man. She lost her identity, she's only a broodmare and a beautiful prop to be paraded around.

It is said that High Fae have a harder time conceiving. So to have 6 children from Beron imagine the amount of times she probably has been forced into that position or forced not to use any contraceptive method. And out of many children, all coming out as boys seems extremely weird if you ask me. It makes one wonder if there could have been female heirs that were... killed? Sent away?

Then she experiences true love one time in her life. Can you even blame her? For once she has something that her heart beats passionately for. And she has the addictive adrenaline of knowing that what makes her feel alive could very well be the reason she dies.

She's forced to watch Eris, still so young, be molded into Beron's shape by a cruel hand. She's forced to see Eris be physically and mentally abused by his own father to become just who he desires him to be. Set to marry when he's barely grown up, to a poor girl who would meet a similar end that she did. And she can only watch, not having the power to challenge Beron. She needs to have more children as she sees what Beron is turning them into.

And then Lucien is born and her fear must have been indescribable in the moment, upon looking at his features... How could she even run? Run how and where, lying in a bed after giving birth? When her baby has just been taken away from her arms.

God forbid knowing what happened between her and Beron after he found out. What he did do her. Or what type of deal she sealed with him to keep Lucien alive. It seems to feed on her soul and wither her life force away. She also never experienced romantic love again.

She watches Lucien being an outcast in his own family. Fitting in but never quite at the same time. Somehow Beron's harshness managed to amplify towards Lucien, she couldn't even believe an individual could have such a deep well of hatred to share inside oneself. The others watched this too, and consequently marked their younger brother as different from the day he was born.

She watches her children face each other as opponents, and saddens when she remembers she wanted them to have what her and her sisters did. Any brief brotherly moments warm her chest.

Lucien falls in a forbidden love just like she once did. She's powerless when Beron decides to kill Jesminda, in what she knows will irreparably shatter Lucien forever. She sees her other children participating in this deep act of brutality and tells herself she is no one and that she has failed. She can still hear Lucien's pleas and desperate cries. An alive ghost, present but not being able to manipulate reality. Lucien runs away and the others go after him. In that moment she convinces herself she will never see him again. She asks the Mother because she's the only who could hear her cries. From one mother to the other. The son of her passionate love. At that moment she regrets all of it, as she believed she only brought him into the world to suffer because of her impulses. It isn't Lucien that she never sees again, it's her other two children. She cried the death of the children she thought she hated. But she couldn't hate any of her children, not really, not ever. She still loved them all and it was so sick and twisted. She mourned the loss of three children, even if one was still alive.

She hates Beron. That's when she understands and finally believes in the existence of an infinite well of hatred. Each day his presence, his touch, his smell, grows more repugnant.

She looks herself in the mirror and she believes she has failed everyone. Her sisters. Helion. Herself. Her children, mainly Eris. But above all, Lucien.

All of this and she doesn't even have a name :/

(Nameless is my price I guess)

[ruified]

I realyyyy love angst :D

There's a oneshot or a scenario that i've been thinking about that's been rotting all over my head where what if reader / s/o is in their deathbed and about to die soon to a uncurable illness and (character) (i guess chuuya or sigma? idm) who thinks of reader as someone special to them is watching over them until their very last breath

LIKE

WHAT WILL THWY DO AND HOW WILL THEY REACT BEFORE AND AFTER DEATH!?!?

Haha my silly little idea is getting the best of me i just wanted to share this idea because i want my feelings to get hurt

❝ until your last 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 ˎˊ˗

warnings: death . characters: dazai osamu, atsushi nakajima, sigma, fyodor dostoevsky, chuuya nakahara . synopsis: their s/o is on their deathbed, they all have their own ways of coping with it . a/n: sorry this took me so long to get to, i was thinking very hard! i hope this is to your liking and you don’t mind little ideas like this instead of a scenario ^^;

DAZAI —

— Dazai doesn’t know what to exactly make of the whole situation, you are so incredibly important to him and now he’s going to lose you? It’s sending him into a downward spiral.

— He refuses to touch you anymore, he just can’t do it

— He wants to make the most out of what little time you have left together but he also has an urge to cut ties with you and make it easier on both of you

— He eventually decides that he can hold your hand at least while you lay in that hospital bed

— After you pass, he tries his best to take care of himself because he knows that’s what you’d want, but that doesn’t mean it’s not hard

— He visits your grave frequently at first, then it dies down to your birthday, anniversaries, and holidays

ATSUSHI —

— He has been keeping a close eye on you since he first noticed you were sick, and he’s been taking great care of you ever since! However, that doesn’t stop the inevitable

— When he heard the news, tears welled in his eyes and he had to excuse himself, he didn’t want to cry in front of you

— He kept you company as much as he could

— On days where he had a lot of work, he’d ask someone else like Kyouka to go check on you

— He would prepare little lunch boxes for you every day and bring them to you

— He brings a lunch box to your grave for you

SIGMA —

— He paced around a lot in the hospital room, especially after he heard the news

— He tried so hard to think of a solution but nothing realistic came to mind

— He had you come stay in a room at the casino so he could at least still be close to you even when he had work

— Your room was kept away from any other visitors and was close to his office, making it easy for him to check on you

— He asked his staff members to change your glass of water frequently and give you a new warm blanket when you needed it

— He kept himself busy with work to try and keep away the dread of your passing

FYODOR —

— After hearing the news, he decided it would be best to care for you at home instead of being kept in such a dreary hospital

— He would read books to you to keep you entertained

— He’d bring his laptop into your room sometimes so that he could at least keep you company even while he worked

— He’d cook soup for you frequently, sometimes even feeding it to you

— He asks you if you have any wishes before you go, he doesn’t want you leaving with any regrets, and he does whatever he can to make it all come true

— He attends to any possible unfinished business you may have before your passing so that you can go without worry

CHUUYA —

— He really doesn’t believe it at first

— He contacts Mori and asks him to look over the medical records and tell him the truth; Mori tells him that it is in fact all real

— He’ll often sit next to you and squeeze your hand, refusing to let go

— He’ll fall asleep with you in your hospital room, draped over you in your bed

— He sits next to you and cuts your apple slices into bunnies, or sometimes other, more intricate shapes

— He asks you often if there’s anything you need him to do for you, also wanting to fulfill any last wishes you may have

— He makes sure you have a proper funeral, he’s tired of those he cares about not getting one.

[444takeomi]

WHEN YOU’RE SICK

: ̗̀➛ summary: 1st gen bd taking care of their sick s/o

character(s): shinichiro sano, wakasa imaushi, takeomi akashi, keizo arashi

warnings: none

wc: 0.5k

a/n: i'm sick right now and i wish i had someone to take care of me, so i decided to write this instead💀 also i’m trying out a slightly different format for shorter posts like this one, not sure how i feel about it yet

: ̗̀➛ shinichiro

shin will literally drop everything to take care of you if he finds out you're sick. it doesn't matter if he's busy at work, he’ll close the bike shop without a second thought — you're always his number one priority, especially when you're not feeling well. he feels terrible when he comes home to find you all wrapped up in blankets, your voice scratchy as you weakly ask him if he can make you something to eat. he tries to make you homemade miso soup but he’s literally hopeless at cooking, so he ends up just making instant ramen instead. shin will cuddle with you and watch your favourite movies and tv shows, not worried about the fact he could get sick himself — he's willing to risk it if it means you start feeling better.

: ̗̀➛ wakasa

waka is already a clingy boyfriend, but when you're sick he’s extra affectionate with you because he knows you're not feeling well. he makes you something simple to eat like okayu (rice porridge) because it's easy on the stomach, but also because he’s not that great at cooking either. if you're feeling up to it he’ll run you a warm bath and will offer to help you wash your hair. he gets all pouty if you refuse to kiss him in fear of him getting sick, insisting that he’ll be fine and that one kiss won't hurt — however he ends up regretting his choices the following week, whining to you that he doesn't feel good. you have to spend the next few days taking care of him, and good luck because waka is so dramatic when he's sick.

: ̗̀➛ takeomi

omi was always responsible for taking care of his younger siblings when they got sick, and so he doesn't mind doing the same for you. he might complain about it a little, acting like your sickness is somehow an inconvenience to him, but underneath all that he's actually really worried about you and wants to do whatever he can to help you get better. he hates cooking with a passion, but he will go to the store for you instead and get you whatever you want to eat, as well as some tissues and medicine. omi will roll his eyes whenever you ask him to cuddle with you, but he always gives in because he secretly likes how needy you get when you're sick — he won't admit it out loud but he thinks it's adorable.

: ̗̀➛ keizo

benkei is so attentive when you're sick, you won't have to lift a finger. he has no problem with taking time off at the gym so that he can take care of you. unlike the others, he's a great cook and will happily make you homemade chicken noodle soup — he insists on feeding it to you even if you're perfectly capable of eating by yourself. he keeps on top of your medicine and checks your temperature throughout the day, just to make sure that your fever isn't getting too high. he also encourages you to drink herbal teas like ginger or peppermint, because they can help you feel less congested and reduce nausea. benkei wants to do everything he can to make sure that you're feeling better as soon as possible.

please do not translate, repost, or share my writing on any other platforms eg. tiktok

[sannylity]

Toxic and Infidelity AU for Slimeriana.

I’ve given them way too many sweet and fluffy prompts and AU’s. It’s about time I feed into the toxic couple agenda™️ lol

—

Charlie and Mariana are childhood sweethearts.

They loved each other as long as they’ve been friends since kindergarten, ever since Mariana shared him his food since Charlie didn’t have any. Sometimes his dad forgets to pack him food, but that’s alright. Mariana soon ends up asking to pack food for two.

Ever since then, they became inseparable. Attached to the hip. You rarely see them without the other.

No one was surprised when they got together in middle school. They were each other’s firsts. First kiss, first date, first boyfriend, even losing their virginities to each other. At some point, they have exchanged promise rings, vowing to replace it with a shinier and more meaningful bands of gold in the future.

Unfortunately, they were also each other’s first heartbreak.

Charlie had to move away.

For some unexpected reason, Charlie is moving an entire ocean away and he is being taken away from Mariana, his everything slipping from his fingers.

They both thought of doing long distance. But they were discouraged by what happened to Quackity and Wilbur, a relationship like theirs turning sour the longer they kept the unattended phone calls and forgotten anniversaries.

So, they decided on one thing.

They’ll wait.

They’ll have to wait.

Mariana promised he could wait for Charlie, even if it takes forever. And Charlie promised the same.

Forever only took five years.

But five years is enough for everything to change.

Charlie comes back to his hometown, to his childhood bedroom and to the same people who welcomed him back with wide open arms.

He asks about Mariana.

The crowd turns quiet.

That’s not reassuring at all.

It was Quackity who stepped forward and told him he’s on his way with his fiancé.

“Fiancé?” Did he heard him right? The music was too loud inside and traffic isn’t any better outside. He was going to ask again, because he honestly just misheard.

Before he even opens his mouth, the front door swings open.

It’s Mariana.

He surely grew into his features, taller and more handsome than ever, but the same exact guy Charlie is still in love with.

“Mariana!” He drops whatever he was going to say to Quackity, choosing to tackle him into a tight hug instead.

The same warmth, the same scent, the same body. Everything felt all too familiar. It’s the first time Charlie felt truly home.

At the same time that he’s tightening the grip around his waist, Charlie fails to notice the stillness of the room and the other man next to him.

Mariana pulls away first, taking a firm step back, which is weird. Charlie was gonna quip and say he promised he didn’t bring any sickness with him.

But then his eyes landed on the other hand Mariana is holding and it stays at the different ring on his finger. And it burns and it burns and it burns.

Mariana is talking. Charlie can hear him talking, but it’s like he’s submerged underwater. He can’t hear anything besides his own blood pounding in his ears.

Suddenly, Charlie remembered his own hand. He hides them behind his back, casually removing the promise ring that he still wore. Suddenly, he can’t find his place in the small town he grew up in. Suddenly, he feels like disappearing, quickly regretting his decision of ever coming back, getting mad at himself in the process for being so naive.

Charlie forces a smile on his face.

“Quackity told me,” He doesn’t have to elaborate before regarding the other guy. Also taller, also more handsome, also better than him in every way. “Congrats to you both.”

He excuses himself quickly. Mariana’s calls falling into deaf ears as he left his own welcoming party just like that.

Charlie ends up at a bar. Of course he does. He wallows in his self-pity. Ignoring the worried calls of his friends. It doesn’t matter. They’ll probably say the same thing and tell him to move on.

That’s not what he needed right now.

He just got back. And this is how he finds out that the love of his life is someone else’s.

Out of his own volition or maybe he’s just so drunk, he ends up wallowing to the bartender like he’s a therapist. Charlie cries for being too late, he cries for the one love that matters to him, he cries for how much he still desperately loves.

But one thing was certain. It wasn’t his fault that he was threatened into cutting ties with everyone, that he was made to believe the future of the people he cared about would be ruined if he doesn’t follow. His grandfather is just the right type of rich and powerful to pull that off.

With a deadbeat dad who has died and the reason for why Charlie had to move, he had hoped for a silver lining that was Mariana.

Maybe he’s been in this bar for hours, maybe he’s been complaining too much. But the bartender gives him a piece of advice that for once sticks right through the marrow in his bones.

“He’s not yet married, isn’t he? He’s engaged, sure. But coming over to see you when he didn’t have to? There’s still something there,” The bartender, a blond and muscular man with a thick Brazilian accent pours him another glass. “If you love someone, you fight for them no matter what. Even if it makes you crazy, even if it makes you the bad guy in the story. You fight for what’s yours.”

Cue Charlie’s attempts to rekindle things with Mariana. Cue infidelity issues because even if their trust is broken, their attraction is so much stronger. Cue their secret affairs, the lies they tell everyone just to keep each other. Cue pretending to be friends while in public, but drive each other mad with jealousy and lust in private. Cue being found out, the decisions and sacrifices they have to make. Cue the dramatic confrontations, the slamming of doors and the tearful drives and breaking of plates. Cue tragedies and happy or sad endings.

Would Charlie and Mariana make it?

[delopsia]

I saw this post today abt how all the best horses go to heaven with no tail because their person couldn’t bear to be without them and cut the tail hair off to remember them by. And it’s got me emotional because Rhett is totally the kind of man that would go to auction and find horses that are really old/not doing well and he would give them all the love and care for the rest of their lives no matter how long or short their time is with him. And he would 110% keep every horses tail because every horse deserves all the love

And now I’m crying over this

You cannot do this to meeeeee 😭 Rhett and having a whole wooden box of tails, with their little nametags and photographs to remember their faces by. He begged his dad not to sell the old ranch pony, Peppermint, when he was little because they all knew she would wind up in a bad place and had to work extra around the ranch to pay for her feed as a result.

It's an odd little snowball effect; after Peppermint, he finds an old mare that wandered up on the property and keeps her when nobody claims her. She only has six months left in her, but she's the sweetest little thing, and one way or another, she's referred to as Sweetie until her last day.

Then there are the two donkeys that Royal brought home from an auction. didn't know they were sick until that weekend, and the vet's only suggestion was to end their suffering. They didn't have names, but Rhett kept their tails anyway.

He bids on a horse with a broken leg that the owner tried to conceal and makes sure to call the vet that the sheriff uses after he wins. It's expensive and the longest night of his life, but he doesn't regret sitting with that little two-year-old until the pain finally left their veins for the last time.

When he has ranch space of his own, he starts taking in old ranch horses from the surrounding area, giving them a nice pasture until their time comes. Collects binders of pictures and memories and talks about them like he'd known them since they were born. If he's lucky, he'll move up near a tourist town and open up a small business that lets visitors spend time with the old fellas. Sharing their stories and making sure their memory will live beyond their last breath.

[dxmoness]

hello 🫶🏽 can i get a request where yandere eros made the reader get in a forced marriage with him so one day the reader try to kill him by getting on top of him and putting a pistol on his forehead when he's sleeping and as she closes her eyes preparing herself he wakes up. daring her to do it knowing she can't bring herself to take a life away, she eventually gave up and started to have a breakdown while eros take the gun away and hugging/comforting her although whispering in her ear, "we'll figure out your punishment tomorrow"

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 | 𝐄.𝐕.

𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊 ➜ istg you all are feeding my Eros simping side. Anyway this will be my second time making suggestive work so hopefully this doesn't flop.

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 ➜ arranged marriage, reader doesn't love Eros, suggestive, no specific pronouns: first person view

Church bells rang as you fidget with nervousness. The people around you prepared you and panicked at the time.

Yes, you were getting married. Anyone could guess so. But, to whom? A man you did not even know or love. Eros Vasilios was a mystery to you. All you knew was he was the crowned prince and the future love of your life. Other than that you're just about nothing.

Of course that didn't stop everyone from reassuring you that you were going to love being with this man. Ugh. If they only knew your situation.

"You look ravishing. I'm sure His Highness would agree." A smile came from the head maid who had just watched you look at yourself in the mirror. Your heart was pounding as you heard the music of the wedding. The doors swing open as you walk through. Eyes were on you as some were envious and others joyful.

As you stood in front of your husband to be. You quietly wished it was someone else. Eros gave you a warm smile as the two of you listened on to the Pope's speech.

The attention the two of you got whilst saying your vows were pressuring especially the gaze of your own father who had simply sold you to this man as he chose to be your husband.

"I do." There was no emotion to those words as you spoke it out, wishing you were not in this situation. The kiss shared between you and your delighted husband was short and barely even a kiss at all as you two turned to make your steps out of the church as a married couple.

Those words that you regret months later. Now you stood by his doorway. Eyes shifting while holding a gun. Yes, a gun. Not that you had much of a choice. Eros was someone who needed to be eliminated and you were the one for the job since you after all slept in the same room with him.

The gun in question was bought from a travelling merchant who you told that you were just curious of things like guns thus you bought the said object. Though the guards weren't exactly fond of the idea they didn't have much of a choice.

Opening the door of your room, you found yourself making your way to him. The man who ruined your life by just joining it one faithful day. Putting the gun on his head was easy enough, but the murder... That was the hard part. You see you had thought you'd be able to kill him while he slept because. Why couldn't you?

The gun was directed right at his forehead not on it just inches away from it. It was a clear shot. Your eyes close as you almost pull the trigger.

Almost.

A chuckle came from the sleeping male as your eyes flew open in shock. Your body could no longer function as the male under you looked at you with amusement. "Go on then." He said, his eyes glinting brightly with excitement. "Kill me, doll."

"You..." This sick man was asking you to kill him. Why not do what he asked? You forced yourself to pull it, but to no prevail. Your body couldn't do what you begged it to. His face held amusement as you broke down. Dropping the gun as your eyes filled up. The one job you needed to do and you failed.

The male next to you took the gun away and placed it on the table. A smile plastered on his face as his arms wrapped around you. His lips kissing your exposed neck softly as he whispered words to comfort you.

Once you did calm down, he leaned in and nibbled your earlobe. His hot breath tickling you as whispered slowly. "How about you sleep with me for now darling?" He whispered, tracing her sides and caressing her skin. "We'll figure out your punishment tomorrow."

F*ck.

TAGLIST

@d10nsaint, @chxrrylxdy (you said once that you wanted to be tagged in everything I write)

[themculibrary]

Caring Steve Masterlist

A Manual for the Proper Care and Feeding of Darcy Lewis (ao3) - emma98 darcy/steve G, 2k

Summary: There are times when even the most well put together, happy people get a little sad. Natasha had advised Steve that Darcy is about to go through the perfect storm of moroseness. Unfortunately, Steve is the only one available to try and help. 

It's a good thing Natasha has a list of instructions for this sort of thing.

And Miles to Go Before I Sleep (ao3) - Cluegirl steve/tony M, 152k

Summary: They all made mistakes. They all have regrets. They all have nightmares, suspicions, and questions they'd like to ask.

And they all left business behind them that was never quite finished.

This is the story of how the Avengers ask those questions, get their answers, and come together like fucking adults to make things right again.

Cliché (ao3) - Gothic_Lolita steve/tony T, 1k

Summary: Steve demands to take care of Tony, and he doesn't mind Tony's subspace one bit. Now if only he could convince Tony of that.

Coming Home For Christmas (ao3) - Chiyume steve/bucky E, 118k

Summary: Steve Rogers is a good man. His friends have told him so on numerous occasions, but this might actually be more bordering on "stupid" rather than "kind".

Because what else would you describe the act of inviting a complete stranger - and thief - into your home over the Holidays?

Steve isn't quite sure what to call it himself, but fact is that when it comes to the case of Bucky Barnes, Steve's actually pretty okay with being referred to as an idiot, as long as it keep the other man safe. And to Steve's defence, it had all started out with such good intentions...

Happy (ao3) - Unbreakable92 T, 9k

Summary: Little Bruce falls sick with the cold and Clint volunteers to take care of him so the others can go out.

It's The Snow (ao3) - postmodernmulticoloredcloak steve/bucky E, 44k

Summary: A snow storm, cancelled flights, one last vacant hotel room, only one bed in the room. Steve Rogers is forced to share the space with the one coworker he cannot stand - unsufferable, presumptuous Bucky Barnes, who very much reciprocates Steve's loathing. He expects to have a terrible time. But sometimes things don't turn out like you expect them to, people are not what you think they are, and there's always something to learn about intimacy, pleasure and love.

Just a prank (ao3) - awesome_goddess_of_mischief steve/tony M, 3k

Summary: Tony has been feeling like shit ever since Ultron happened. 

A prank is played at the wrong time during a Bad Day.

Clint and Thor really messed up.

On the Count of Three (ao3) - Potrix bucky/steve/tony T, 2k

Summary: Tony whines. “Truth spell?”

“Truth spell,” Bruce confirms, giving Tony’s arm a consoling pat.

Peter Gets Cuddles (ao3) - starrylovers steve/tony G, 561

Summary: It’s been a long day and Peter just wants to cuddle with his dads.

Stressrelief and a little more (ao3) - Fighting_for_Creativity bucky/steve/tony E, 4k

Summary: JARVIS has the best ideas. 

Sure, Tony was banned from the workshop for the night, which didn't help so much. Yet it ends all in his favour.

After all, he has been crushing on two of his teammates for a while now.

Barnes and Rogers were concerned about their teammate, what they found was anything of what they had dreaded.

The Best Is Yet To Come (ao3) - postmodernmulticoloredcloak steve/bucky E, 30k

Summary: When a severely injured young man gets brought to the hospital where he works, Steve Rogers does not know that that encounter will change his life. Nor Bucky Barnes knows that the dreadful accident that almost killed him and took his arm away will eventually lead to joy. A tale of learning that good things sometimes are found in the least expected places.

The Care and Feeding of Traumatized Ex-Assassins (ao3) - Sholio T, 6k

Summary: Steve starts to notice someone's been in his apartment while he's not there. Set after Winter Soldier; spoilers.

We're Historic And Rich With Good Intentions (ao3) - WolfChansLeftLeg bucky/steve/tony G, 735

Summary: Bucky comes into the picture and Tony is scared he's getting replaced

We're Undone (ao3) - spazzgirl steve/natasha E, 2k

Summary: Steve makes sure that his Omega is taken care in the best possible way

When I Need You (Comfort Me) (ao3) - greymantledlady steve/tony E, 15k

Summary: Sometimes it feels like she’s trying so hard and she just can’t, she can’t. And suddenly everything's just – just too much, and somehow Tony’s got her face down on the workbench, arms curled around her head, big helpless shuddering sobs rising up in her chest.

Because Steve - it doesn't matter what Tony does, Steve’ll still just think she’s selfish and too loud and a show-off, and it doesn’t matter, she doesn’t care, Tony doesn’t care what Steve thinks.

It’s – it’s just, she’s so lonely, so bloody lonely. And she shudders and sniffles again and presses her face pathetically into her arms.

When You Mess With One, You Mess With All (ao3) - starrylovers steve/tony T, 2k

Summary: When Flash and his cronies take it too far and hurt Peter, the Avengers show them exactly what happens when you mess with one of their own.

Wherever You Will go (ao3) - Black_Widow007 steve/natasha N/R, 10k

Summary: The epic tale of falling in love but being in the wrong business for such things. Natasha and Steve harbor a secret relationship from the rest of the Avengers, but nothing ever goes as planned.

Worth (ao3) - Chiyume steve/bucky E, 8k

Summary: Bucky's past is not a pleasant one, but Steve's not going to let that get in the way of saving his best friend, in whatever way he possibly can.

(A series of events that may or may not have taken place on the quinjet after Bucky and Steve escape the airport in CIvil War.)

[night-market-if]

Zinnia 🥺🥺 just finished chapter 12 and I have to say I love it. I'm feeling so many things right now that I don't know how to express them all, but I'll try.

I'm so devastated for Milo and MC. The moment Milo realizes the plan didn't go the way it should and it being too late just 😭 ugh even after all that how can I not love him????

I don't know how you always manage to make things make sense with each new revelation while still making us question what is going on! I feel like I understand him more now and like i don't know him at all, but I suspect that's how Milo likes things to be 😂

I still remember finding this blog when you were still writing paper lanterns and thinking to myself that I would read the first chapter when it came out to see if I liked it, and then wait until the night market was complete to start reading. I've been on the internet for too long and read too many wips that ended up being abandoned, so I didn't want to get my hopes up. But when chapter 2 dropped I couldn't help myself lol I'm so glad I didn't wait!

Reading your story each month has been like a warm blanket for me. It's one of my happy places now ❤️ Even reading your responses on here brighten ups my day a little bit!

Your characters feel so real that even when I disagree with them (Milo 👀) I can tell there is a reason why they are the way they are, how their pasts have shaped them, how complicated their emotions are in the face of what's going on.

Sorry for rambling, I don't know if what I'm writing makes sense because I'm still processing this chapter and english is hard 😂

Thank you so much for sharing this story with us, I can't wait to see what you have in store for book 2, bit in the meantime I'll be re-reading book 1 every chance I get!

Dropped wips was what I was so afraid of when this started. I knew I would see this through to completion if there was enough interest, but I started getting really worried about writers block. Or what if one of my kids got sick. Or what if something happened that just left me in a creative drop.

Since starting this story, I have gone through some personal things with my family life, have lived on only a Patreon income because my husband had to go on strike for almost three months, been up to my ears in medical bills, wondered how in the hell I was going to feed my kids at the time. We have gotten sick multiple times. We have started homeschooling. We have had breaks in very important friendships. And I just kept writing. It was a point of pride for me. That I was able to do this thing that I've wanted to do for so long, despite feeling sometimes like my world was being held together with Elmers glue. LOL! I don't regret starting this story for an instant. I don't regret the work I've put in either. It has provided me and my family with such a comfort over the last year that I completely understand when you say this story is a warm blanket. I am the author of it, yeah. But I am also a fangirl of these characters too.

Thank you so much for reading this and thank you so much for giving me a chance to prove what this story could be.

🪷✨🪷✨ If you want to support me 🪷 ✨🪷✨ 

Demo 🌿 Patreon 🌿 Ko-fi 🌿Discord🌿Kickstarter

[honeyedafterglow]

two days after i killed myself

the day after i killed myself, i had no regrets. i was finally free—no more of that crushing weight, no more dark water filling my lungs until i was sure i’d suffocate. i didn’t have to think to myself, one more day. just try to survive one more day because i had no days left. it was over. i didn’t have to hurt anyone ever again. my family wouldn’t have to worry anymore now that i was gone. selfishly, i was relieved that i would never have to face them after what i’d done. i didn’t want to see how it hurt them. i didn’t want to know.

but i saw. from my place in death, i saw what i had done, the damage i caused. it was irreparable. my mother barely got out of bed. our dog barked and whined, begging for her attention, her love, asking where i had gone, but when she never responded, the dog simply climbed into bed and lay in silence with her. my cat, once confined to my room, now roamed the house as he howled, calling out to me, a living, breathing reminder of the daughter my mother lost and the love i had for cats.

my father, on the other hand, drowned himself in his work. he logged up to a hundred hours a week, only leaving himself enough time to miss me when he returned home at night to see my empty bedroom, the lights all switched off, the door cracked slightly open the way it always was when i lived there, eternally unchanging. he had begun to adjust the thermostat from his phone instead of passing by my doorway to do it manually. he didn’t want to think about me and what i left behind more often than necessary.

my little sister, who was only sixteen, still traveled between our parents’ houses. when she was at our dad’s, she kept the door to my bedroom from our shared bathroom tightly closed. she locked it when she showered, and sometimes expected me to burst into her room and scold her for leaving it locked after she was done. but i never did, and she eventually stopped unlocking it.

at our mom’s, she did her best to avoid walking down the hallway that led to my room and the bathroom unless she needed to pee. my door was always closed now, and my cat never seemed to figure out why. he would sit in front of it and cry, wailing for me to let him in, unaware that i was not home and i never would be again. my sister cared for him on my behalf, holding him when he cried in the middle of the night, feeding him when he purred and begged for food. he was how she honored me in my death. he was how she showed that she had loved me.

my older sister didn’t live at home anymore, but she felt the loss, too. when she lay in her bed, she sometimes caught herself staring at the candle i made for her in my pharmacy class and began to cry. she couldn’t bring herself to light it, unwilling to let a flame melt away something i had given her. when she felt strong enough, she often visited my social media pages and scrolled through my posts, remembering how i’d ask her opinion of my photos and whether i should post them. she always encouraged me to post them, no matter how other people may react. it was my page and she wanted me to share whatever i felt like sharing. now that i was gone, she was thankful for that.

my boyfriend was surprised by the news. at first, he thought it was a joke, something i’d orchestrated to get a reaction out of him—a sick prank. but he eventually realized that it wasn’t a cruel joke i’d been playing. he still went over to my house, sat on my bed, looked at the rumpled sheets and flattened pillows where we used to sleep together. he thought about how i would always sling one arm and one leg over him when we slept, like a koala hugging a tree, and i could see the ache i had put inside of him.

sometimes he would log onto his computer to play his favorite video game and see the minecraft logo, forced to remember how i made him play it with me the night after our first date when i panicked and made him go home. he remembered the feeling of his arm around my waist in the movie theater as we watched spider-man, of my hand in his while we walked through cedar point, of my skin against his the first time we had sex. he remembered the sound of my heartbeat whenever he rested his head on my chest, the smell of my perfume that he liked to spray on himself, the sound of my laugh when he said something particularly stupid. he couldn’t stop remembering. sometimes i wished he could forget, if only it would stop him from hurting so badly.

the day after i killed myself, i had no regrets—i was proud of myself for my success, relieved i had finally freed everyone from my web of misery and pain—but the day after that, i did.

two days after i killed myself, i regretted it. i wanted to go back. i wanted to push my hands through the earth i’d been buried in, my fingernails caked with dirt, and crawl home to the family i’d left behind. i wanted to wrap them in my arms, tell them i was sorry, promise them i would never hurt them that way again—but i couldn’t. i was dead.

two days after i killed myself, i regretted it more than i ever thought i was capable of.

[tothedarkdarkseas]

16, 33, 41?

16. Can they stay up all night just talking?

Definitely. This is aided by substances, usually, but between the music and the drugs I think they've had their share of late nights, not all as productive as they'd like; some spotted with regrets, but many just... genuinely good memories, good "matey" nights pouring over the dizzy thoughts and playing a verbal game of MASH about their rockstar futures. (This is, of course, more true of the early years.) I'd say it's rare that "just talking" truly excludes the initial excuse for time spent together, be it writing and recording or smoking and snorting, but it can exclude any physical contact beyond the socially appropriate.

33. Who’s the better cook?

It's honestly hard for me to hedge bets on this. Neither. The answer is surely neither. I simply cannot see Stuart having any ability beyond feeding himself, for nothing more has ever been necessitated; I cannot see Murdoc having any ability beyond feeding himself, for that core survival ability was necessitated. I think some years into their celebrity Stuart has slightly more interest in food, specifically through his dabbles with vegetarianism, religious and spiritual bases for eating or not eating something, the cuisine of other cultures when he becomes a more seasoned traveller. I wouldn't say that translates into a gift for cooking itself, though. Murdoc has had to know more of the fundamentals of preparing something even on limited resources, but I think he's promptly forsaken that for the glory of wealth and convenience.

I'm going to ultimately give it to Murdoc, I think, but that comes with a half-dozen asterisks beside it. The two smoke so heavily that they can only be so critical. No one else eats their cooking; no one else is as inoculated against the taste.

41. Which one would take their jacket it off and drape over the other one because they were visibly shivering?

This also threatens to be a bit more tender than I portray them, but probably Stu. It's a headcanon of mine that Murdoc is often cold, but isn't really willing to admit to it, or can function with a bizarre unawareness of those charmless human needs; maybe it's a result of heavy drinking fucking around with his bodily awareness. Stu's certainly not offering out of a fondness, but a knowingness of what isn't being said.

He might ask something like "D'you need a coat or are you having a fit?" or mutter about "drunk shakes." He might tell him if he didn't dress like a tart Stu wouldn't have to be so put-upon, how he probably looks like a real tit without his jacket now. He sort of likes it though, being put-upon, if only for the very low-stakes upper hand it gives him. There is a sick sort of traditionalist dominance that overrides his lack of natural chivalry toward Murdoc, you know, ah-- it's embarrassing, he thinks. Murdoc ought to be embarrassed. Murdoc ought to feel small, the way he's been made to feel small by Murdoc tying his shoes or stealing from his nightstand or picking which of his least-favourite shirts he'll have to wear for the next four days. Whether or not that image consciously enters his mind, there is a certain smug satisfaction that accompanies the instinct that the gesture is emasculating to the other. (We know, though, that this is not the same issue for Murdoc. Win/win from his end, really.)

[klkbassotherthings]

The Fearless Part 2. (Maybe I should post this elsewhere…)

Serah was also one of the fearless, a month younger than Arvyn. It was said she came into the world with a scream that was heard by the heavens. Her gold eyes were complimented by bronze skin; something she hadn’t inherited from her pale, noble parents. Like the rest of the town, desperation had forced Lord and Lady to consume that which was normally below their station. They didn’t regret it. After all, they were the ones to make the final decision in order to save their starving people. But, as proud as they were of their fearless daughter, it was tiresome getting her to behave in accordance with her title of Lady. A title her green-eyed younger sister, relished.

“Arvyn!” Serah’s bare feet slapped against the cobblestone road as she ran to greet him. For the fearless, shoes were largely an annoyance, worn only during the snowy season.

“Serah,” he stated with neither joy nor annoyance at her appearance. Many were put-off by his cold demeanor, but he never meant any offense. Social situations were just awkward for him. The exact opposite of his fearless “sister”.

He braced when she slung an arm over his shoulders. “Where ya off to?”

“Going to Grayhands,” he replied. “It’s the first day of my apprenticeship.”

“Ahhh. That’s why Eric is all up-in-arms,” Serah said as she matched his leisurely stride. “Saw him this morning, cursing the wind. He wanted to apprentice under Grayhands, but Grayhands wouldn’t have him. Everyone knows he was waiting for one of us. You, Col, Grimm, or Trenton specifically.”

A shiver went through him at the mention of Grimm. If people thought he was cold, Grimm was a blizzard blowing through the shutters. The son of the village scribe kept to himself and rarely spoke, even to other fearless. It was that silence the blacksmith desired. The rumblings of the forge was the only sound he wanted to hear while working, not the ramblings of some youth. Grimm would have never gone however, his hands more deft with pen than hammer.

“By-the-by,” Serah continued, “have you seen Trenton this morning?”

“I’ve barely started my day,” he replied with raised eyebrow. “Why?”

“Guess he went out to feed the cattle last night and didn’t return. After Selena, his parents are worried sick.”

That was concerning. Selena, who was so named because her gold eyes were as pale as the moon, had vanished a couple nights prior. A search party had followed a trail behind her house that split the wheat field outside the village wall. Unfortunately, it went lost in the mountainside forest beyond and they still hadn’t found her. For Trenton, another of the fearless, to go missing, was more than mere coincidence. Neither of them voiced it, but they both wondered what might be happening—and who was next.

The thought nagged Arvyn throughout the day. All the fearless shared a familial bond, compelled by circumstance of birth instead of blood. As the oldest, he often worried about his younger kin, though he had little reason to. Most of them had loving families, and the townsfolk treated them with almost reverent admiration. Only their immediate teenage peers, like Eric, spoke ill of them; words poisoned by jealousy.

Having two of his “siblings” go missing, disturbed him to the point he was having trouble focusing on his new duties. Grayhands had patience, but it only lasted so long. By the end of the day, Arvyn’s thick-skinned knuckles were bloodied from being cracked several times too many. “I expect better of you tomorrow,” the blacksmith scolded when he was finally released to the dwindling daylight.

[devouredlamb]

he had issuues with control, it wasn't entirely unknown in his family and dakota had bore witness to that even before his turn. when it came to feeding, however, he took dakota's lead. he liked to see the other hunt, if only because he made it look effortless, even for an apex predator such as themselves. dakota drew people in, his sparkling eyes, the tone of his voice, his incredible scent. josh loved to watch him work, even if it didn't seem like work at all. he followed after him, a faint smile resting on his lips as they finally came to a stop at the bar, their inteded targets welcoming them enthusiastically from the get go.

louis looked at jack, his expression softening as she referred to him. he wondered sometimes if he did the right thing, he was fearful that she'd come to resent him for the choice he made on her behalf but jack was swift enough now to reassure him of the opposite. louis smiled, taking her hand and offering it a gentle squeeze, knowing riley felt differently but deciding not to acknowledge that for now. the story wasn't exactly his favourite but he'd already shared with jack how messy things had been. he sighed and shifted, licking his lower lip out of habit before offering gabriel his attention. " jack was sick, alone and afraid. I heard her from the street, coughing and spluttering. I couldn't just leave her there. I picked her up, carried her home... she was in and out of consciousness and riley did not want to help. she's too young. we didn't know her. it was unpredictable. " he glanced towards riley, " but I thought different, I understand their reluctance but I wanted to help her, I wanted to give her a chance, you know? so I begged, and they refused, and then they said if I wanted her to survive, I'd have to turn her myself. so I did. it wasn't great... it didn't go very well, but we got there in the end. I've never regretted it. "

gabriel narrowed his eyes as louis picked up where jack left off, it seemed a little too white knight for him but he said nothing. he itched at his jaw line and glanced down at the recording, seconds ticking away while he said nothing, digesting the story for a short while before lifting his gaze again. " so, you meet riley, they turn you, how long was it before you decided to baby trap them? years? decades? " he lifted his brows. louis' jaw clenched but he forced a smile, " I had been with riley for just under ten years when I found jack. " gabe nodded his head, " and do you feel responsible for her? " he asked riley, " is this little family unit real or is it more of a you versus them dynamic? "

niki hummed softly, " you may just be right, perhaps I should take some time. " he glanced up at the door again and frowned at the direction of the conversation happening out there. he didn't want gabriel to soil a good mood, even if riley had anticipated that he may have tried to push some buttons, especially given their last encounter with the man. niki lifted from the bed and gave kieran a smile, " I hope to hear about it, I am very intrigued to know you, kieran. but I must insist that you eat now, you must be hungry. "

a lot of dakota's life , especially when it came to being sober , was all about trying to grasp to some sense of control . maybe being a vampire , it was also about control in some ways but not always . there were moments where he didn't have to be so uptight and tonight seemed to be one of those nights . dakota didn't hesitate to move inside the bar when the two parted , stepping inside . it was lively that night , not that dakota expected anything different . his eyes drifted , eventually catching the eyes of two at the bar , lips twitching .

" should probably ask louis for the details , " jack was quick to offer , " considering i wasn't fully conscious and all . " there were bits and pieces that she remembered and of course she remembered the after but if gabriel wanted a play by play , it was best to get it from the source . " i don't wish he made another choice , though . " she was glad to be here , after all .

august wasn't unaware of the glance thrown their way by gabriel but he didn't look back at the man but instead allowing his eyes to rest on jack as she spoke . august didn't make a big deal at the way matteo angled toward him even if only slightly . the way theirs knees touched . he was afraid if he did , that matteo would shy away from him .

" seems very ... human . " kieran's lips twitched as she looked back at nikhar , not at all put off at him getting closer . " it's okay . knowing your limits . " she looked back at him , " also okay to try and know who you are outside of someone . " she didn't want to step on any toes but it appeared as if the two could speak freely . " been there , done that , wasn't exactly fun . " kieran was no stranger in getting wrapped up someone and forgetting herself .

[serenetoru]

k. ayato x gn!reader.

genre: angst.

Tw: reader’s death, regret, swearing, just Ayato being mean :(

my first time making a fanfic and write stuff so, enjoy!

also my grammar is a bit off.. so sorry about that.

—————————————

you loved him. you really do. But be as it may, it doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t have time for you. Today is the 3rd time this week you had asking him to atleast spends some time with you, but ofcourse, you had been back at this damned room, your shared room. “Ayato… please, honey you shouldn’t do this to yourself.. you’re hurting.” said you, so full of concern for his well-being. “I’ve said this countless time [name]. STOP BOTHERING ME.” woah, this is new, he has NEVER raise his voice at you, shocked at his reply, you get out of his office, broken hearted. “[name]…? i’ve heard everything.. im sorry..” Thoma says while pats your head, comfortingly. You could only stare at your hands, dumbfounded at your ‘soon to be husband’. You only wanted Ayato to talk about your recent sickness, you got cancer. “It’s alright, Thoma, really thank you for always being there for me” Thoma smiles down at you, “anytime.”.

your sickness got worse on these pass couple of weeks. you couldn’t walk anymore. Ayaka stood beside you, feeding you while her brother still doesn’t know about any of this, “[name], we should really tell about your condition to Ayato” face full of concern while fidgeting her dress. “Really, it’s okay Ayaka, he wanted some alone time” You reply to her statements half-heartedly. You can’t stand him anymore, all of his bullshits, you’re so tired of his childish silly actions. Tears threaten to fall from your eyes, all you wanted was him to finally lay beside you, sharing your sweet-nothings to eachothers, and maybe even go out on some little harmless dates, actually, when was the last time he had taken you to dates? you couldn’t remember. You felt as your body began to ache- so bad that you almost screamed. It hurts, physically and mentally, you’re not ready to leave this world, you haven’t fulfill your wishes yet. “[NAME]!!! WHATS WRONG?!?!” Ayaka, your best friend, your fiancè’s beloved sister. “Aya… please, don’t tell him about this.. AGH… it.. hurts..” Tears started to fall on her crystal blue eyes, it hits your face like a rock falling to the ground. “Shhh… don’t cry, its all going to be alright.., i want you to tell him how much i loved him..” you smiled at her, for the last time.

A week has passed after that incident, the estate has a depressing aura surrounding it, even the fatui near the estate are concerned about what happened. Fortunately(or rather… unfortunately), Ayato has begin to notice this, how when you hadn’t come up to his office to “bother him”, how everytime when Thoma sees him his face falls into a saddened one, and how..how he has suddenly felt… troubled..? why does his heart picked up when he’s near your shared room..? everyone in the estate is so.. depressed, as if someone has passed. He connected all the dots and… no. There’s no way. He refused to believe that. And there he came searching around the estate, looking, searching, YEARNING, for any traces you left behind. Hell, he even goes out to Inazuma city to ask about everyone if they have seen you, but all of that comes to a waste. No traces was found, he’s stressed. Had you gone to another island? or even region? why doesn’t you tell him anything? do you… hate him..? He grips his Sumi(a japannese calligraphy pen or some sorts), it almost break because of how much power he used. “Godammit [name]. Where could have you been..?” all of the regrets, its all coming to him, it feels like a burden behind his back, guilty. He hated the fact that he had yelled at you, when he swore on his life he would never yell at you. He asked one of the guards regarding your presence, but all of the guards said that they cannot tell him, its not that they want to, but its an order. From a certain someone, someone he cherishes, he loved, he worships. He’s getting enough of this, “Ayaka!” his smooth voice rangs around the estate, Ayaka, who was practicing her swordmanship rushes to her brothers office, “Yes brother?” she asks him while also being nervous. “Where is [name]?”

Tears streaming down his face. How could.. how could you..?!?! you left him. In this world behind, alone, well not really but he doesn’t care. Why hasn’t anyone told him about your passing?? once he opened the letter that you write from him before you’re gone, he’s so, so heart brokened.

—————————————

To my dearest, Ayato.

Hello, dear. It seems that Ayaka has given you this letter i wrote days, weeks, or even months prior. Yes, i’ve probably am already gone from this beautiful world, im sure you’ve probably felt guilty about it. Don’t worry, i’ve forgiven you, so don’t think about it that much… just.. be happy for me alright..? I love you.

Full of love, yours only.

—————————————

thanks for reading, this is so shit, im so sorry

[xavierknightsbridge]

My Stepbrother’s Belly

Simon was pissed off. Bad enough his mom had a new boyfriend. Bad enough she'd married him. Worse that he had a musclebound jock his age for a son. Worst of all that he was expected to share his room with this brunette Adonis with his bulging biceps and douchey personality. Watching him work-out topless, stuff his face and rub his temporary pudge and belch, jack off to porn without headphones. It was torture. Worse because his new stepbrother was hot.

Simon in contrast was a scrawny nerd with a mop of unruly black hair and a slight pot-belly. He'd be cute with a haircut but he preferred to hide his looks. The only thing about him that was remarkable was his appetites. What he liked to feed his belly with and was responsible for the permanent layer of pudge wobbling about his middle. But since Brad moved in, Simon had had to even stop his special meals.

Simon looked down at his pot-belly, belly-button peeping out from his hoody, and sighed, belly grumbling. He'd planned this for months – and Brad had managed to ruin it too. He'd been feeding up his annoying best friend Matt for months, candy bar by candy bar. He was ripe and plump and ready and Simon's mom and stepdad were going away for the weekend with Brad – but at the last minute Brad had cancelled. Stomachache apparently, Simon thought sourly, massaging his poor hungry tum. And now Brad was staying here, with him and Matt, and Brad had invited one of his dumb jock friends to stay for the weekend too: Mitch, a ripped golden Adonis with pecs you could bounce a quarter off and an ass to die for.

A sudden grumble told Simon his stepbrother was near. Sure enough, Brad was stepping into his room, a towel around his naked body, rubbing his bare grumbling belly. “That kid's coming over right? Your boyfriend?”

Simon scowled. “He's not my boyfriend.”

“Whatever you say. Sure is a snack,” Brad said with a wink. He loved to tease Simon about his sexuality. He liked to say he'd be the one making sure his stepmom got grandkids – usually before whipping his big cock out to nut one out in front of some straight porn – with the sound on, of course. “Well me & Mitch'll give you the bedroom. For y'know, Privacy,” Brad winked, and grabbed his dick, visibly hard beneath the towel. “We can hang out in the garage. Just y'know, don't fucking disturb us.”

“Well you don't disturb us neither,” Simon pouted, immediately regretting it as Brad grinned. “See, knew I was right.”

And then their guests were arriving. Brad had put on a tanktop and board-shorts and gave Mitch a high five as he entered, wearing a t-shirt and tight shorts that left little to the imagination. And then there was Matt, guileless and cute, with candy-stuffed belly visible beneath his shirt. Simon's own belly growled with need – but Brad and Mitch being around ruined his plans. He'd have to find something else to do with Matt until he could finally get a free weekend alone with his friend and his belly.

Luckily, opportunity presented itself: a bag of candy Mitch must have been eating surreptitiously, abandoned in the kitchen when he’d gamely followed Brad into the garage. All the better to plump out Matt’s already straining belly with, Simon though licking his red lips as he gathered up the bags of candy and hurrying back to his bedroom where Matt, guileless as ever, lay sprawled on his bed. His eyes lit up and his belly strained at the buttons of his shirt as he saw what Simon was carrying. “Let’s see if we can get those buttons to pop,” Simon said with glee, planning on a day of edging his belly with the sight of Matt’s growing one. If he couldn’t have it now, he’d at least heighten the anticipation for when he could.

“Think I’m gonna be sick,” Matt grunted as Simon rubbed the flanks of his heaving bared belly, round as a beachball and hanging from the flaps of his open shirt like a balloon, sweat dribbling into his belly-button, into which Simon had stuck a lollypop, which he was idly twisting and turning inside that lovely orifice of flesh. “You don’t want me to lose this do you piggy,” Simon said, indicating his burgeoning erection, tentpoling his shorts. Matt shook his head. This erotic play had long been their dynamic, pushing it further with each encounter - until Simon thought one delicious day when it would all come to a wonderful and final end. He pushed another chocolate between Matt’s willing lips and felt it enter his warm stomach, pressing the flesh as it bloated still further. Then Simon sighed.”We can take a break if you like. I think Brad has indigestion tablets. Knock before you go in!”

Simon slumped back on his bed, cock throbbing in his shorts and belly grumbling. He unzipped his hoody to massage his complaining stomach. This was torture. Fucking Brad, and fuckingf Mitch too. There was no way he could indulge his unique appetites while they were about. Sighing, he began to thrust in the bed, indulging his loins to almost-but-not-quite climax, resolved to enjoy his body in some way even if he couldn’t give his belly what it wanted today. 

He came to his senses, edged half out of his mind, when he heard the garage door open. Startled, Simon glanced at the alarm on his bedside table. It had been an hour! Where had Matt been all this time? He had no time to react - his bedroom door was open. In walked Mitch, bare-chested, sporting a noticeable paunch and a towel slung over his shoulder, blonde curls dripping with sweat. He grinned as he spotted Simon’s throbbing erection. “Guess I should’ve guessed what you fellas were up to.”

Simon grabbed aa pillow to hide his throbbing hard-on. Man, he thought, Mitch was pretty hot. Why had he never noticed before now? “Uh, where’s Matt,” he mumbled, trying not to look at Mitch’s firm bared pecs or fat round pot-belly, incongruous over his waistband. Mitch shrugged his impressive shoulders. “Brad and I were working out, then y’know how it is. He put some real hot porn on so we got a little uh distracted. Didn’t see your friend till we’d be rocking out with our cocks out for who knows how long.” Mitch belched suddenly, and rubbed his bare gut. “Sorry, Brad made weed brownies. Didn’t know he baked! Though guess I am now,” he grinned. “Brad said he had the munchies. Needed to cool off. Figured I did too, so came in to use the shower.” Simon watched in awe as sweat beaded down those ample pectorals and onto the gentle curve of his brownie-stuffed stomach. “Say, where is the shower?” Mutely, Simon pointed, more aroused than even an hour of edging had managed to achieve as Mitch sloped away towards the restroom.

Simon lay on his bed for a moment, zipping up his hoody - cock and belly in turmoil. Braad was busy - with Matt admittedly - but if they were stoned out of their minds, it could be hours and hours before they surfaced. And he’d promised his belly a treat. Brad had spoiled it. So it was only fair if Simon had had to give up Matt, then Brad would have to give up Mitch. And so, belly groaning with anticipation and cock bouncing in his shorts, curly-haired geek Simon set out for the shower - and his next meal.

Mitch was so stoned - and so lost jacking off his big cock and painfully full edged balls, that he didn’t notice Simon slip into the restroom. Nor did he see the soap-bar Simon laid out on the floor - until stepping out, gloriously naked, hard as a rock and belly stuffed with brownies, he slipped and fell flat on the tiles, belly-first. Right where Simon - and Simon’s hungry belly - wanted him. Mitch grinned stupidly, as Simon approached, hoody zipped back up.

“Hey, man, in a bit of a fix here. Help me up will you?” Mitch extended an arm and Simon lifted him up, grabbing the muscled hunk with both arms. “You’re pretty cold,” Simon said rubbing the bare skin of his soon-to-be-belly-filler. “Let’s get you somewhere warm.” And before Mitch could wriggle out of his grip, Simon had opened his mouth impossibly wide and began to feed his belly.

Simon was lost in ecstasy as mouthful by mouthful he swallowed down the hunk, head first. The taste of talcum powder on his muscled shoulders, the flexing of his arms and back muscles as Simon gobbled them down, the full round plumpness of his smooth pecs, flexing in his mouth, nipples hard and sweet, was indescribable. Simon gagged a little at the size and heft of those mighty planes of round muscle - but he was determined to give his belly what it deserved so he forced them down his gullet, nibbling and nipping his way to the belly of his prey - Mitch who was soon to be so much pudge. 

Already Simon could feel his hoody expand, zip straining as the upper half of Mitch began to enter the voracious tank of his nerd’s gut. Mitch was struggling inside him, the feeling of which got Simon rock hard, but the weed brownies were taking a toll and the jock was too drowsy to put up much of a fight. The brownies had had another effect too, Simon thought, as Mitch’s belly jiggled and wobbled towards his mouth, plump and rounded with a cute indent of a belly-button. Simon enjoyed lathering the whole expanse of Mitch-belly with his tongue, teasing his belly-button (complete with belly-stud, which he carefully unhooked with his tongue and let fall to the floor) feeling Mitch, evidently ticklish, writhe and moan inside him. He allowed himself to gently chew the gentle sloping paunch of his new belly-food, savoring in the taste and roundness of the perfectly spherical little belly - before sucking the whole wobbling, sweet, brownie-stuffed gut into his now - much larger- superior stomach.

The zip of his hoody was straining visibly with the massive bowling-ball of his belly, belly-button a visible indent in it - Simon felt smug and proud as he saw his gut expand with Mitch-food in the bathroom mirror. All that remained were a pair of muscled legs kicking futilely from his mouth, Mitch’s massive cock and swinging balls slapping against Simon’s mouth, before Simon tossed back his head and swallowed the whole lower half of his latest belly-filler in one. 

The effect was instantaneous - the zipper unzipped in one motion, before it reached the apex of his swollen vore-belly, and pinged it off, breaking the mirror with the force of Simons’ belly emerging, triumphant, smug and satiated. It spilled out of Simon’s hoody like a tidal wave, cloth falling either side of the mighty heaving apex-belly, a great fat beachball of pink belly, with a massive cavity of belly-button into which Mitch’s belly-stud rolled down the great upper curve of thee belly - and got stuck. Simon, now deliciously utterly stuffed, his massive vore-belly proof of his latest conquest and the abilities of his predatory voracious gut, let out a massive belch and rubbed his wriggling belly, as Mitch visibly squirmed beneath the expanded walls of Simon’s massive nerd-belly. Or more accurately a jock-belly now, given what- or who - was currently swelling it out to such a massive, distended proportion. 

Simon gave his new bloated Mitch-belly a satisfied pat, hanging like a sack from beneath his perky pectorals, swelling out of his hoody whose sides had permanently parted, stretched beyond their limit, to accommodate the enormous swell of his predatory belly. Simon caught sight of himself in the mirror and grinned. “Didn’t think it was possible for you to look any better Mitch ol’ chum, but looks like I found a way.” He smacked his massive sphere of tum with glee, even as Mitch began to wriggle within the bloated drum of the vore-belly, as though to express his disagreement. But Simon didn’t care. Mitch was just food now. And food stayed in his belly.

Carefully, Simon maneuvered himself back to his bedroom, letting out a mighty belly-quaking belch as the frame of his bedroom door squeezed the sides of his belly together, belly-button closing like a mouth when the cheeks are squished in. There was a metallic ring; Mitch’s belly-stud had evidently been forced or pushed out of Simon’s bellybutton. Well, not that he needed it now. Not where he was. Gingerly, Simon flopped onto his bed, massive belly wobbling violently on top of him producing more belches and vigorous movement from his massively aroused loins in his shorts. So big was the belly that it took several minutes to stop jiggling as Simon adjusted position, smiling in smug satisfaction and exulting in the delicious fullness of Mitch being eaten by his belly, rubbing his Mitch-belly with pleasure, as though for a job well done.

Mitch was putting up a fight in his bloated tank though, and Simon groaned - as his belly groaned - with renewed activity. Simon couldn’t quite reach below his big deep bellybutton to the sloping lower curve of his Mitchbelly. Towering over him, his bloated beach-balloon of a man-eating gut wiggled and wobbled, flesh bouncing on top of him, causing Simon to moan with a combination of ecstasy and discomfort. 

“Dude,” he said, addressing his new vore-belly. “You need to chill the fuck down. You’re meat now. Food in my belly.” He gave his moving mountain of bare predatory belly an admonishing smack - and heard an unmistakeable moan of pleasure emerge from his gut, seeming emanating from his cavernous crevice of belly-button. Simon’s eyes widened and his cock moved against his distended lower gut as he realised what was happening. Mitch was so stoned and out of it that he was jacking off inside Simon’s belly. His belly was masturbating. Every wobble of that distented sweating, heaving gut was a movement from his food as he pleasured himself within the cavern of Simon’s voracious stomach. 

Simon was lost in an orgy of belly-making ecstasy, thrusting his hips (with considerable effort given the size and heft of his bare vore-belly) in time with the rhythmic movements of his belly-food, belly wobbling and swaying hypnotically, drenched in sweat. Mitch felt amazing inside him - all of that jock-meat stuffing him to such fullness he was belching continually - hoping to keep his meal conscious long enough for him to climax and sweeten his meal with fresh cum from his fat balls - before his body was turned into protein and pudge for Simon’s body. 

He was so lost in his own pleasure (and that of his moving, quaking belly’s) he didn’t hear the door open. Didn’t see the big bare belly bounce the door wide - and Brad, belly massively engorged and distended and with a lump visibly moving beneath the stretched, taut skin - waddle into the room, completely naked, massive cock twitching in time with the wriggling and writhing of his bloated greedy belly.  The ruined shreds of his tanktop clung to his curvaceous muscled pectorals, his new belly having evidently popped and torn the rest of the top. That wiggling rounded beachball of a vore-belly was too majestic to be contained and hidden away. 

Brad’s tanned skin was dripping with sweat, his pierced belly-button stretched and expanded by the massive horizontal expansion of his mighty gut, piercing winking within the depths of his expanded navel. He placed his hands on his hips, belly audibly gurgling and a voice could be heard moaning within the mighty cavern of Brad-belly. A voice that sounded a lot like Matt - but muffled by the thick walls of Brad’s engorged jock-belly. Or rather, nerd belly given who seemed to have swollen it to such astonishing proportions. 

Brad reacted first - belching and rubbing his exposed balloon of belly. “Uh. Say, have you seen Mitch?”

Simon gulped - unable to keep himself rubbing his own swollen sated stomach as he answered. “Not seen him for a while.” His big bloated belly let out an almighty gurgle. “But guess you could say I’ve been hearing from him.” He gazed at his stepbrother’s distended gut that could only be full of Matt in amazement, deep dark belly-button winking from just below the center of that swollen beachball of belly. “Uh you don’t know where Matt’s got to?”

Brad gave his big belly a fond pat, producing a meaty smacking noise that caused his belly to wobble wildly. “Turned out I had a uh task for him, which he’s doing very well.” He belched. “Had a bit of an opening which he’s filling very nicely. Kid’s got a use after all. But he’s uh gonna be busy for a while.” His massive meat-packed belly began to gurgle loudly. “Very busy.” His belly began to squirm, a lump visibly moving beneath the stretched skin. “Don’t think you’re gonna be seeing him for a while.” Brad began to back away, but his belly was too big for the doorframe with his food/Matt changing position inside his big belly and the sides stuck in the door, his belly being squeezed and pushed inwards, belly button getting squashed and Brad letting out a mighty belch and an oof, while his belly squirmed and jiggled wildly. 

“Funny,” Simon said, plucking up the courage to say what he saw. “Cause I think I’m looking at him right now -” and he gestured to the deep belly-button of his step-brother’s bloated tummy, and the bulge moving under the skin of his step-brother —- his friend, who his step-brother had eaten and had made that stuffed exposed stomach so huge and heavy. 

Brad actually blushed, as he considered his predicament, big bare belly squeezed in the doorframe, so fat-bellied with living prey as to impair his movements. But then he glanced at his step-brother’s own big, moving belly and frowned. “Well I sure as fuck can hear Mitch in there. Jeez, you pig,” he said pointing at Simon’s groaning gurgling vore-belly. “I was saving him for later. He was baked out of his mind. I don’t know how you haven’t been knocked out having all that weed in your fat belly.”

“Well I was fattening Matt up.” Simon said indignantly. 

“Yeah,” Brad said, rubbing the bloated curve of his upper belly, still stuck in the doorframe. “No shit.” 

And then they looked ed at each other, step brother to step brother and at their massive bared bellies, clearly full of their friends who they’d eaten to satisfy their appetites and convert from people into big round bellies - and burst into laughter. Brad’s big pecs heaved and his wriggling belly wobbled with effort - and popped free of the doorframe, causing Matt to show from behind the indent of his stretched bellybutton. Brad’s belly hung over his shorts by several feet, wobbling wildly now it was free. “Fuck me, man. I was planning on putting you in here,” he said rubbing his belly of Matt. 

“Not much room ,you stuffed pig,” Simon said and slapped his own wiggling belly of Mitch. “Besides I wanted to put you in here.” 

“I think he’s occupied,” Brad said, moving towards the bed, vore-belly jiggling. “And you’ve never horf me down.”

“I don’t know, man. I got Mitch.” Simon drooled as Mitch moved inside him and once again he contemplated the ripped, handsome body of the guy he’s put into his belly - the complete superiority of having turned such a man into a round beachball of bare vore belly - his belly. “You’re gonna be digesting him for days. While a fat little nerd like Matt is gonna be no obstacle for my belly. I’ll bet I’ve got room for seconds by the morning,” Brad said smugly. “Now move over. I wanna make sure my belly’s bigger than yours, nerd.” 

And Brad, clutching his mighty belly with both hands so it was squashed up beneath his muscled forearms, clambered onto the bed, belching and groaning while said vore-belly thrashed and squirmed. And no sooner was he lying on the bed beside Simon, that the bed, unable to withstand the weight of two fullbellied preds pre-digestion (or really four men) groaned and broke, sending both big bellied boys to the ground with an oof, letting out enormous belches as their stomachs were discommoded - provoking even more frantic squirming inside their fleshy fat prisons. Lying horizontally on the bed, with its legs now all broken so they were only inches off the floor,  so that their bellies sat atop them, big belly-buttons just below the apex of their vore-guts, wobbling in unison as though racing to digest the prey contained and swelling out their bare stomachs to such bloated, distended proportions. 

“Fuck your friend was a chubby little number,” Brad said with a satisfied belch as his belly moved of its own accord.

“Still is,” Simon said, managing to wriggle so he could just about move his arm over his own massive vore-belly and prod his step-brother in his big, deep belly-button which caused him - and his belly of Matt - to squirm and giggle. “Hey, no tickling.”

“You did eat my friend.” Brad belched. “Damn straight. And judging by that fucking monster of a belly, I’d say we’re even.” Simon grinned and patted his big moving belly that loomed over him like a mound. “I think he looks better in me anyways.”

“Your friend - what was his name?” Brad said indiacating his big belly, which currently answered to Matt. “He was some good eating. And definitely better looking now. Only way he was ever gonna be hot was to be some fat on my belly - and ass.” 

Simon rolled his eyes and belched. “Well I hope some of Mitch’s looks rub off on me. Though he’s currently rubbing on me. Of fuck.” His eyes rolled back into his skull as his belly wiggled and moved as Mitch shifted inside of his great voracious tummy. He could feel his belly gearing up for digestion and his cock hardened and he could feel his balls filling with cum at the same time. Judging by the meaty erection poking out of the button hole of Brad’s boxers, he was experiencing something similar. 

“Say, you don’t mind if I keep jacking off,” Simon asked, watching Brad, unable to reach his loins over his fat belly of Matt, beginning to hump the air, thrusting his hips.

“Think we’re past the point of being shy,” Brad panted, sweat coursing down his big muscled pectorals and pooling below the great upper curve of his fat man-eating gut. “God this fatty makes a good belly. I’ve never been this full! Thanks for the snack bro,”

Simon grinned as he thrust his own hips, bed creaking as the two brothers humped and thrusted, fat cocks out and enormous, stretched vore bellies wobbling in time with their exertions, sweat pooling over both predatory brothers as they fully indulged in the pleasure of their vore-states, every part of their bodies sensitive and primed for pleasure as their bellies got to work feasting on living man-meals that had swollen their guts enormously and temporarily sated their appetites so wonderfully. 

“Had no idea you were a pred bro,” Simon said after a belly-wobbling belch. Brad grinned with all his teeth. “Me neither. Figured you were gonna wind up in here,” he said, caressing his bloated big belly. A moan emerged from Brad’s lightly tufted belly button, and Brad grinned and reached down with both hands to stretch his belly button and wiggle it like it was a mouth. “Oh no I’m Matt and I’m a belly cause I’m such a fatty,” Brad said mocking his meal inside his enormous belly. “And I taste fucking good cause my belly was so big and now I’m just a belly cause I was made to be food for a jock and now I’m being digested into pudge and protein cause all I’m fit for is being a fat belly filler.” 

Simon was awed, and cum dribbled out of his fat cockhead at the sight - and he slapped his own moving, digesting belly with satisfaction. He sighed – “Mitch is in his own ultimate hotbox right now,” Simon drooled, rubbing his belly and fingering his own belly button in time with his thrusting hips and erect cock. “I can feel every inch of him in me and it’s where he belongs - to my belly. My belly’s claimed him as food and now I’m getting like secondary high cause he was so baked, baked like food which is what he is.” He belched and wobbled his big round bare belly with both hands. “Belly food.” 

Both brothers were now drooling, pre-cum dripping, belly gurgling, constantly wobbling and thrusting and belching as they began to process their food - their former friends, now massive distended bellies wobbling on top of the two mostly naked step-brothers, big belly-buttons wiggling and moving in time with the wobble of the fat, stretched vore-guts. In between belches and over the sounds of moaning and gurgling and bloating from their fat bare bellies, they compared and complemented the meat in their stomachs, the taste and size and fullness and satiation each guy had brought to their belly, and the different shapes they’d made inside their fat voracious guts. 

Eventually, one thrust too many caused Brad’s fat balls to send load after load of cum shooting through his twitching fat cock, causing him to let out a mighty belch at the same time, stilling his meal of Matt for good, turning him into pure, smooth, fat belly. The sight of his sweaty tanned, big pecced step brother fully digest a guy and shoot his load blasting up the lower curve of his belly and spill into his deep, stretched belly button caused Simon to also explode with jet after jet of hot sticky cum, landing on the middle of his belly to dribble in sticky droplets into his yawning belly button. Simon let out a massively satisfied belch - ejecting the last of the air inside his balloon like vore-belly - and turning Mitch into his true purpose - pure food and belly-filling for Simon’s triumphant bloated pred-belly. 

Sweaty and exhausted the two step-brothers flopped back on the ruined bed, bellies jiggling and noisily digesting the guys inside them. Simon, dark hair plastered to his face, nerdily cute, gave Brad, whose tanned belly was stretched with Matt-meat and whose big round pecs were heaving with exertion, a grin. Brad grinned back - and went one better. He struggled to his knees, distended vore belly sloping from below his pair of fat muscled pecs, and swinging wildly - and pulled Simon to his knees too so they stood facing each other. Brad then sucked in his mighty bloated vore belly - and pushed it out so it slapped into Simon’s own big vore belly and flesh touched flesh, sticking together with sweat before both vore bellies detached with an audible fleshy pop. A belly high five between two triumphant preds who’d just sated their massive appetites with belly-expanding meals of living men - formerly friends, now just meat digesting inside their predatory stomachs. 

“Fuck bro, and to think I thought you were just future pudge,” Brad said, laughing as the two clasped shoulder to shoulder and big belly to big belly, belly buttons basically kissing as they faced each other, already getting hard again. “I thought I was the only one who could do this” Simon said, indicating his vore belly. “Never been happier to be wrong.”

“Matt and Mitch might disagree,” Brad said, tracing a finger around his stretched gaping belly button. Simon grinned and belched in Brad’s face so he could smell the aroma of his former friend, now a big lump filling out his brother’s distended belly. “Fraid Mitch won’t be saying much anymore,” Simon said lovingly stroking his belly of former-jock. “Race you to digest fastest?” Brad smiled and gave his brother’s belly a drumming with his palms, causing Simon to belch again. “You’re on. Let’s see who looks best as just bellyfat.”

And, exhausted, they flopped bellies wobbling back onto the bed, and almost immediately into a deep sleep while their grumbling exposed guts noisily converted their contents of former friends into pure bellyfat. 

They woke the next morning, bellies significantly diminished. Matt was now an almost spherical ball of gut protruding (and three times the size of one of Brad’s pair of pecs) below Brad’s firm, muscled chest. Mitch was a pear shaped sack of gut hanging from below Simon’s slim chest, big belly button in the centre of the droopy belly that he’d turned his brother’s friend into. The brothers high fived their bellies once again, and began to jack off now they could reach their horny loins, describing the feelings of the guys inside them and gazing at their own post-vore bellies that had been people, and each other’s - their former friends now just wobbling belly fat, disproportionate to the rest of their brother’s body. 

As they both climaxed, cum pooling into their deep yawning belly buttons, Brad gave Simon a satisfied grin, and poked him in the belly button, coating his finger in his step-brother’s hot seed. He then reached down and wobbled the belly that was all that remained of Matt.

“Any more nerds for me?” Brad asked. “This one whose name I’ve already forgotten has given me a whole new appreciation for geeks.”

“Well Mitch here,” Simon said rubbing his hanging sack of Mitch-pudge. “Has taught me to appreciate the finer qualities of the jock.”

Brad laughed and pushed out his fat post-vore pot-belly. “Man we are gonna have to get through all our friends. Yours for my belly, mine for yours. Could make it a race.” He said, eyeing Simon’s sack of Mitch-gut with arousal. 

“What’s the winner get,” Simon asked, already knowing the answer. 

Brad grinned and pushed their bellies together again so they could feel the gurgles and shifting as their post-vore tums digested and their bellies got a feel for each other. “The best goddamn meal of your life,” he said as both their bellies began to grumble in anticipation.

[fakecrfan]

Hi just want to say your story about the superhero was incredible. It broke my heart and I loved it

AN ASK ABOUT AN ORIGINAL THING I WROTE? 🥺

I wrote two superhero stories but only one has been getting likes in my activity feed recently so I think you mean my construction superhero short story. (checks the post) oh uh wow that’s getting more traction than I realized. Shit. So that’s why a bunch of people followed me recently.

Anyway, I don’t know if you are still watching my blog anon but since you liked my story have another snippet I whipped up just for you.

--

Excerpt from an interview with prisoner #4598, also known by the code names “Constructor,” “Destructor,” and “the Architect.” Transcript incomplete due to being salvaged after the attack on the prison records. Interview conducted by Mitchell Newman.

---

MN: Okay, well, since our memory experts can’t see anything in your head but muck and have established we’re not going to get any information out of you, anyway…

4598: Lethe is very good at memory stuff.

MN: Right, yes, of course she is. So since you’ve forgotten all useful information and I have to visit you at least for two hours a week just so this doesn’t count as solitary confinement--

4598: Could I talk to Sandy?

MN: Ms. White hasn’t asked to speak to you.

4598: Right.

MN: Anyway as I was saying, since I have to be here anyway why don’t you just tell me about yourself? Give me the whole manifesto.

4598: (no answer).

MN: Right. Well. Let me just continue then and you can answer if you feel like it. Sound good? Good. So, here is my question. What do you think about what people call you now? The first time you got arrested, you didn’t escape for months. Why?

4598: (no answer)

MN: Everyone thought it was because you needed to know the makeup of the material in order to shape it. When you stayed put they thought they’d gotten you with their Akonite walls. But it turns out you never needed to know that and you were just… sitting in there anyway.

4598: Right.

MN: What stopped you from escaping?

4598: (no answer)

MN: Did you think that you’d be let out if you played along, since you had good PR then?

4598: No.

MN: Okay. Was it that you still believed in the justice of the system?

4598: No.

MN: Second thoughts about trying to stop the construction of that stadium?

4598: Uh, no.

MN: Alright then. Why?

4598: (no answer)

MN: Is it related to your apparently still-developing powerset? Are you hiding some ability or--

4598: Depression.

MN: What?

4598: I was depressed.

MN: Ah.

4598: Everyone I had looked up to wanted me in jail. I thought no one would agree with me, so there was no point.

MN: Right.

4598: Uh, that’s something Sandy taught me. It doesn’t really matter what powers you have. If you want to get things done--big things, like building cities--you need lots of people. The things I’ve done, rebuilding… It's always because people have helped me. Cleared away poisons so I could go in the area. Gave me materials. Helped me learn.

MN: And without those people, you decided you couldn’t do anything?

4598: Yeah.

MN: So what changed your mind and made you decide to enact the largest villain breakout in history?

4598: It…

MN: What’s that?

4598: I had to try. It wouldn’t be right to just give up immediately. I couldn’t do it alone so I decided to find people who could help.

MN: And those villains--many of them serial killers and terrorists--these people shared your altruistic goals?

4598: (no answer).

MN: Right, sorry. That was a bit blunt on my part. I just mean it must have been a difficult group to work with.

4598: Hm.

MN: You’re pretty famous for not killing anyone yourself, even now. I really believe you don’t want people to die if they don’t have to. How do you reconcile that with working with, oh, Inferno. You know, the one that burnt innocent congressmen alive?

4598: (no answer).

MN: Some of the villains who escaped that day went on to kill innocent people, even if the ones you became friends with didn’t. Do you have any regrets?

4598: ...Skinner killed three children before we caught him. Toxica got… one, but made 48 people very sick for a while. Um, the others--I counted it all up. The amount of people who died due to the actions of villains that escaped because of me was 28.

MN: So you--

4598: The attacks your heroes do on other countries have casualties that number in the hundreds. Thousands sometimes.

MN: We were tracking down a highly dangerous villain with a power that could--

4598: That could not do half of that damage. They never can. The serial killers and terrorists--they’re hideous people. But there has never been one with the power to do what American “heroes” do every year.

MN: That’s because we kill them first.

4598: And then there is the damage afterwards. The sickness. People who die in the rubble. People who have their entire homes destroyed only to be turned away as undesirables when they try to find a home somewhere else.

MN: That’s not equi--

4598: You asked me if I have regrets. Yeah, I do.

4598: I regret every single fucking base I built for all of you.

---

The rest of the transcript is unsalvageable. Prisoner #4598 escaped shortly after, as containment measures on the subject once again failed. Future heroes are advised to use lethal force on sight, as containment has proven impossible and these transcripts indicate de-radicalization is unlikely.